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jungkookstatts · 1 year

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Not in the Way You Think

[Summary]: You've been after your best friend for ages. But how are you supposed to know that he's after you too if he insists on being a bachelor until his dying breath?

[Theme]: ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, dry humping, protected sex, fluff, somewhat angst, many many years of pining, making out, oral. Soft dom/Dom JK, sub Reader, virgin things, mention of alcohol and a pen

[Word Count]: 6,043

[A/N]: Hi. I've resurrected. For now. Enjoy! Also, if anyone knows what's going on with my materialist -- sos!!

[Materialist]

“Sorry, but there’s no fucking way,” your best friend scoffs against the lip of his dab pen. He was about to take a hit, but was abruptly stopped before you told him something completely unbelievable to his ears.

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you whine.

God, this is so embarrassing. You fiddle with the rims of your hoodie's sleeve, examining it in shame. You can’t dare to look at the face of your best friend on the other side of the couch. His words already make you feel embarrassed enough, you can’t imagine what looking at his face would do.

“Y/n,” he starts again, that disbelieving smirk proving to adorn his features. “You’re 24 years old. What the fuck.”

“24-year-olds can be virgins, too, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes. “Not everyone strives to have over 30 bodies on their ‘fucked list’ by this age.”

You feel so embarrassed. Of all people, you thought your best friend wouldn’t shame you like this. It’s already embarrassing enough to be at this age and to not have tried anything sexual with anyone before. You’re inexperienced. You know that. But the conversation originally didn’t start this way. What was once a talk about which flavored soju was better than the other, turned into a ridiculing conversation about your lame sex life. The last thing you need is his bantering about how shocking it is to hear everything you haven’t done yet.

“57,” he corrects you with yet another smirk. This time, there’s a tease in his eye, obviously waiting for your reaction on his body count number.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

You try to grab the remote on the coffee table, but Jungkook takes it before you can.

“Wait, now,” he laughs when you smack his arm. “I’m not done asking about this yet.”

“Jungkook!” you whine. “I’m seriously so embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it with you anymore.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?!” He raises his pierced eyebrow. “What about Taehyung? And Soobin? Aren’t those guys your ex’s? You had to have done something with them, Y/n, c’mon.”

“Yes!” you blush harshly. “Of course I’ve kissed people before. I’ve just never…done anything dirty with them.”

“Not even like a hand job or anything?” he raises his other eyebrow.

“Jungkook, please stop reacting like that. You’re making me feel worse,” you tuck your hair behind your ear.

It’s no news that Jungkook is not only your childhood best friend but he’s also been a notorious fuck-boy since about 5 years ago when the two of you moved to a different city to attend the same college. He has always told you that he was going to spend his university life being a bachelor, making it a goal of his to see how many girls he could get underneath him by the age of 25. He's gathered quite a lot. Except now, he’s more knowledgeable than you for once, and you’re not taking the news so well.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But his words prove to be carried with no remorse. “Not even oral?”

“Jungkook!” you kick his knee. “Seriously. I continued this conversation with you because I thought you’d be nicer about it. You’re obviously the experienced one here. But clearly, you’re not experienced enough to know that not everyone is constantly looking for which sexual activity to try on the next stranger.”

You’ve been his #1 ear to all of his stories for years now, no matter how repetitive they can be…or how much they secretly punch you in the gut every time he tells you a new one.

The two of you couldn’t be more opposite. He’s sporty and social, you’re quiet and mellow. He’s into the music and business world, whereas you’re into radiology and all-things-hospital. He’d rather spend his free time partying and making himself feel good in any way that he can, whereas you’d spend your free time wrapped in a book or having coffee over a new podcast about aliens.

But no matter your differences, the grunge boy that you grew up with sitting on the opposite side of the couch, making fun of you and laughing at the sheer difference in how the two of you chose to live out your college years, will always be your best friend. He might remain a crush or even your first love, but nothing can change the fact that the two of you click like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t trade anything for that, even your secrets about what you feel for him.

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just–wow. It’s just shocking to me, I don’t know. Especially for you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scrunch your eyebrows together.

“Well, I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, putting his pen on the table. “It’s no secret you were the girl every guy was trying to get into their bed all throughout college…and high school.”

“Tch,” you shake your head. “As if, Kook. Don’t try to make up for ridiculing me about my sex life by covering it up with fake scenarios.”

“I’m serious, Y/n. Just as serious as you are about this,” he says. “You thought that Soobin, the university's #1 crush–a guy even more wanted than me–would agree to go out with you and date you if you weren’t the hottest chick in the school?”

“Yeah, well, that was short-lived,” you scoff, remembering the events of your break up. “He didn’t really want me. Or well, he did, but not like how I thought.”

“This is why I’m shocked,” he explains further. “Literally every man that I knew talked about you. I don’t know how their efforts could have gone unnoticed by you. But I guess you were too in your head to notice. You had the hottest man in the school, but not even that was enough to even make you think about doing anything with him?”

As much as that information flatters you, it doesn’t satisfy you at all. Truthfully, Jungkook could talk about any man in the world that might want you. But if that category doesn’t include him, the thought doesn’t arouse you at all.

Your own brain can’t even wrap itself around why you were so hung up on him. Why would you possibly want a guy like Jungkook to want you. He’s careless and reckless. He doesn’t give things a second thought and pushes all your buttons at the worst times. He’s foolish and irresponsible – a walking stick screaming ‘bad news’.

But at the same time, he is oh-so gentle. He’s kind and sweet, considerate and respectful. His touch makes you jolt, and his voice relieves your headaches in an instant. You feel safe when he is there, and absolutely terrified when he is not. He’s strong and capable, but also sentimental at heart.

You don’t think you could find anyone else like him in the world. No one like your Jungkook.

No wonder your past relationships didn’t work out for you. Taehyung you broke up with out of frustration. It was with him that you realized that Jungkook was too in your head to be dating anyone fairly. And just when you thought you were over Jungkook being your ideal man, Soobin walked into your life. But since he broke up with you over your own inexperience, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how maybe you waited too long. No one wants someone who has no idea what they’re doing in the bedroom at the age of 24. Most of society at this age is dating to marry. You’re still dating for the experience.

“It’s not that I didn’t think about doing anything with him,” you respond. “I just–I don’t know. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t–I don’t know. We just weren’t a good match. The same goes for Taehyung and everyone else before him and Soobin.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything that you’re saying.

“But it’s all irrelevant now,” you continue. “We’re graduated, and there’s nothing I can do about previous male efforts towards getting me in their sheets. It’s just–there’s something wrong with me.”

“Clearly,” Jungkook agrees. “Sex is like–life. You truly don’t know until you try. Do you even masturbate?”

“Jungkook,” you sigh quietly, as a disappointed palm presses against your forehead. “You weren’t supposed to agree to that.”

“Well, do you?”

“Of course, I masturbate.”

“And that hasn’t persuaded you at all? Don’t you imagine what it would feel like to have something other than your fingers or some toy getting you off?”

“That’s so graphic,” you scowl.

“Well, do you?”

You roll your eyes.

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you agree. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just too hung up on a scenario that’s not possible–at least not for me.”

“You’re pined after by millions, Y/n,” he sits up straight on the couch, his legs folding against the cushions to get a better look at you. “Any scenario is possible in your world. Especially related to sex. You could get any man that you wanted to if you just broke down a wall or two and went after them.”

“That’s not–never mind,” you give up. You’re too embarrassed to admit anything. You also don’t really want to. Risking your friendship with Jungkook isn’t worth letting out a secret like this. You’d lose him forever, and you can’t risk that. “No one wants a 24-year-old virgin,” you begin again, trying to move on from your previous words. “Unless they’re a crazy perv, or one of those dudes who thinks that only ‘marriageable girls’ should be virgins until they tie the knot. And, well, those guys are just…weird.”

Jungkook laughs at your words and a small smile forms on your lips from the sound of his laugh.

“Y/n, what are you saying?” he exclaims amidst his laughter. “Look at you! You haven't lost a cent of your desirability in all the years I’ve known you. Any guy would want you.”

“But not you,”

“Huh?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you just say that?!

The thought slipped past your lips without a second thought. There’s heat in your cheeks, and you can’t bear to look at Jungkook’s face. You might have fucked everything up now. Just over a thought you didn’t think twice about. Your brain must have been done suppressing it, but now you have to sit here and wait for the consequences of letting it all go.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “C-Can you give me the remote? I’d like to drop this and finish this show.”

“Nuh-uh,” he laughs in disbelief. His rough hand gently wraps around your wrist, forcing you to look at him again. “What did you just say?”

“Jungkook, please,” you cry. There’s fear in your voice. You’re so scared of losing him, you can’t even think properly. All you want to do is pretend like nothing happened. Like this whole conversation didn’t happen and you were back to talking about flavored soju. The thought of losing your best friend floods your mind, and you beg him with your eyes to stop. But he’s unrelenting.

Jungkook scoffs at the look in your eye, his grip loosening on your wrist before sliding it off completely.

“Y/n, you are so oblivious, it actually gets on my nerves more than anything in this world sometimes,” he says.

You feel your heart sink to your stomach.

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you this because I thought it was obvious how I feel about you,” he laughs to himself. “I don’t know how long you’ve noticed, or if you’ve even noticed at all, but I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, Y/n. And it’s only grown since then. So don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want you.”

Words fail to leave your lips. You’ve had so much shock and embarrassment during your time spent with him tonight. But nothing could have prepared you for this.

“Jungkook, none of this is making sense,” you stop him. As much as your heart leaps at his confession, a part of you is still completely misunderstanding something. “You mean to tell me that you’ve had a crush on me for how long? And yet in the meantime, you’ve made it your mission to be with every woman on campus? How in the world do you expect me to think you had feelings for me when every Saturday morning you tell me about whose pussy you were up the night before? How was I supposed to know?”

There’s a bit of anger in your voice. All these years of getting your heart shattered over his countless stories about girls that weren’t you. About how he kissed Emily on Friday night and then fucked her best friend, Rachel, in the ass a few hours later. About how he went all the way home one weekend just to fuck your high school calculus teacher. Or about the countless times you’ve walked into your shared apartment with him, only to look down and see an extra pair of girly high-heels sitting by the door next to his shoes. Or the many pairs of unfamiliar panties you’ve found in the wash. Or the smell of strong perfume constantly stained on his side of the couch.

“How in the world did I expect you to think I had feelings for you?” he reiterated your questions irritably. “Y/n, I asked you to be my date to prom! Hell, don’t even try to cut out the fact that we almost kissed when we graduated high school. I hung out with you every day after school in both high school and college. Fuck, half the reason I came to this university was to be by your side. We even have an apartment together!”

“You’re my best friend, Jungkook!” you explain.

“You don’t have to remind me,” he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I gave up trying to make us anything more than friends a while ago. Fuck, every time I lay with a girl it’s the biggest reminder of all that we’ll only be friends.”

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you cry. A tear falls down your cheek from his words. God, you’re so frustrated and angry and annoyed and so relieved. You don’t know which emotion to put first. “Fuck you. You shattered me into pieces. You call me oblivious when I’ve spent years loving you. But you’ve been too busy telling me about who you’re going to fuck next to notice."

Jungkook breathes heavily, anger leaving his nostrils. His eyes are foreign to yours. You’ve never seen so much emotion in them at once.

And then suddenly he’s on your side of the couch, hovering over you, holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm. His lips sear against yours kissing you with passion you’ve never felt before.

It’s second nature to hold his face in your hands. His ears slip between your middle and index finger; the cool metal of his earrings touches your skin gently.

You moan into him when you glide your right hand into his locks, pressing him tighter against your body. Jungkook grunts at the feeling of your hand in his hair. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel you like this. No matter how many times he’s imagined it before, no matter how many times he’s pretended it was you instead of the stranger beneath him, the feeling of imagining you is nothing compared to the feeling of actually having you right there in his arms.

You can feel him lay his weight heavier on you the more you kiss him. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against your body.

Jungkook’s lips detach from yours slowly, his thumb lightly pressing against your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” he kisses you again slowly. It’s wet and soft, but you don’t mind. It’s him, and he feels right. “I guess we gave each other too many mixed signals.”

You kiss him back, holding his chin between your index finger and thumb.

“Are my signals clear now?” you ask him gently.

“If you’re telling me that you want me…more than just friends,” he presses his nose against yours. “Then they’re clear as day.”

You smile against his lips when he indulges on you again. Jungkook kisses you slowly and softly for another few minutes. It’s much different from the kissing you did a few minutes ago. This time, he’s gentle, and so are you. Your hands find purchase at the base of his scalp again, and you smile as he moans at the feeling. This is a whole new learning curve for you, and you’re finally going through lessons you’ve restricted yourself from accessing for a very long time. It feels so good. It feels amazing to have him in your arms like this.

But still, somehow there’s something missing. There’s a pit in your stomach, a wetness in between your thighs that begs you to rub up against him. And so you do, but you’re stopped with a firm hand on your hip from the man above you. You suddenly feel embarrassed again.

"Y/n,” he pants against your lips. He looks down at your conjoined hips. A part of him feels embarrassed at the sight–he doesn’t think he’s been more hard in his life. But he respects you more than to indulge in his own fantasy right now. “You’re still a virgin,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you exhale. “But I want you, Kook. I want you to be the one to take it.”

“Y/n,” he coos, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think you should think about it. I’m not the most romantic person in bed. I also don’t think I’m cut out to be your first. I don’t deserve you like that.”

“Don’t say that Jungkook,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “You say that as if I haven’t been imagining you in the same way that you imagine me. You say that as if I haven’t been waiting for 10 years to kiss you like this. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I think this moment is why I haven’t been able to indulge in sex with anyone else. I feel right with you.”

You watch his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. He’s lazy with his decision on which to focus on right now. His heart is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know which feature of yours to honor first.

“What are you doing to me,” he laughs at himself. You smile back at him, and he swears nothing has ever been more right than how it is at this moment.

“Will you take me, Jungkook?” you ask him again, much softer this time. It sounds strange coming from your mouth. You’ve never asked anyone to do that for you. The only person you’ve wanted, or have imagined, taking it away from you has been Jungkook. And here he is above you.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your words send all the blood straight to his cock, as if it didn’t have enough blood in it already. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want,” you confirm with him. “I want you.”

“God, I want you, too,” he says, kissing you passionately yet again. This time, he scoops you into his arms, sitting you up on his lap. You straddle him perfectly, your thighs hugging his, and your core pressed temptingly against his own.

Jungkook moans at the feeling, his hands finding purchase on your hips before slowly grinding them against his own.

Your hands fall from his jaw to his shoulder, the feeling of his clothed dick against your pussy is much more shocking than you thought it would be. Never in a million years did you think such a strange action would feel so good.

“Kook,” you whine against his lips.

He breathes lightly against yours, trying to keep his composure as you make yourself feel good on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently. His hands remain on your hips until you nod, giving him permission to explore your body in whichever way he would like to first.

He watches your face as he slides his hands up to your waist. His fingers make their way under your silk pajama shirt, causing you to jolt at the feeling of his skin against yours. It puts a desire in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You’ve never wanted to explore anyone else like this.

“C-Can I touch you?” You ask him this time.

Jungkook laughs a little at you asking for his permission. In a way, he’s not really used to that. He finds it endearing that even though he’s fucked a lot of girls in his lifetime, the fact doesn’t take away that he’s still worthy of asking something like that to you. The other part of him laughs as if he’d ever say no to you.

“Please,” he gives you permission.

With that, you look at the fabric of his shirt leaning against his collarbone. His typical black shirt covers just enough to make you curious.

But your eyes move to your own hands, which are delicately mimicking his actions, except they start by pushing up his shirt from the bottom. Your fingertips feel his abs underneath them. They’re defined, and you hate to admit that they make you really nervous.

Your eyes flick to his, and they read your mind like a book.

With one motion, he takes his hands off your waist and pulls his shirt off, revealing all his glory to you in one quick second.

You take a deep breath, and he chuckles a little. But his laughs stop the minute you touch him again. They slide up his abs, your fingertips feeling his honey skin underneath you. They slide to his arm, covered in ink. They’re a perfect representation of him, and you haven’t told him enough how much you love them. They’re passionate and edgy, handsome and strong, but gentle and honest all at the same time.

You almost get lost in his ink when he slides his fingers further up your shirt.

Your breath stops in your throat when he grazes his fingers on the underside of your boob. You’re not wearing a bra, and the fact only excites Jungkook more.

But he wants to be patient with you, even though he knows that the two of you want this so badly.

“Can I?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you give him permission in a whisper.

With that, he slides the silk fabric up and over your shoulder, his breath stopping in his throat when he sees you.

“Fuck Y/n,” he breathes out. He looks to you for permission again to touch you, and you nod with a small smile on your face.

Jungkook gently cups the underside of your breasts, his body leaning forward as he does so. His lips wrap around your nipple and you gasp when he twirls his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The sensation prompts you to press your hips deeper against his, eliciting the sweetest sound from his throat. His black jeans frustrate him, the barrier is too thick between you and him.

He sucks on you harder before popping off and transferring his torture to your other nipple. Your pussy feels like it’s almost gushing arousal from his mouth alone. A raspy moan leaves your mouth as he gently bites on your bud, prompting you to tug at his hair.

“K-Kook,” you moan. “Please,” you beg.

Jungkook pops off your nipple, his mouth trailing kisses up to your neck. His hands slide up your back, holding you close against his chest as he kisses and sucks on the sweetest parts of your neck. You know he’s learning you, and you’re 100% willing to let him continue.

“I want you inside of me,” you pant against his ear. “Please, Kook. I want you.”

Jungkook pulls away, resting his hands on your waist again.

He looks at you with more seriousness now, although his lips are red and swollen and his skin is starting to shimmer with the slightest bit of sweat.

“Are you sure?” He asks you again.

“Yes,” you hold his cheek.

“Okay,” he smiles.

With that, he stands up with you wrapped around his waist. You know where you’re going, and you giggle against his neck at the fact that this is reality. You’re in his arms, your skin against his, and he’s on his way to make you feel closer to him than you ever have before. This is the only man that you’d let do this to you, you’ve realized. And the relief that it is finally happening makes you giddy and so so happy on the inside. You can’t help but hold him closer.

Jungkook gently lays you on his sheets. They smell like him, and you feel warm inside when he tops off the scent with himself hovering over you.

“Have you…you know,” he gulps. “Used anything before?”

“Like a dildo?” you clarify.

“Yeah,” he kisses your neck again. He’s completely overwhelmed with you. He can’t stop kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop anytime soon. The urge to mark you as his own–to show every man that you belong to him–is so strong. He can’t help being so proud that this has finally happened. That you’re with him, and that this is the start of something new between the two of you.

“Other than my fingers,” you sigh. “No, not really.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, uncomfortably fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. What you said made his dick hurt with arousal. His jeans are too tight on him now, and he wants to feel all of your skin against his.

You watch him take off his jeans, feeling overwhelmed by the look of his cock springing free underneath his gray Calvin’s.

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes for the change in pace. “They were getting tight.”

“I can see why,” you exhale.

You feel taken aback by Jungkook’s size. It’s still clothed by his boxers, and he already looks like he’s going to rip you open. No wonder he is in such high demand.

“I’ll prep you,” he promises. “N’ go slow.”

You watch him give himself a few pumps over his boxers, closing his eyes from the feeling of releasing a little bit of tension. He smiles when his eyes land on your face, your eyes completely fixated on his dick.

“Something caught your eye?” he laughs at the expression on your face.

“Shut up,” you smile.

Your breath stills when he hooks his fingers around the rim of your pants, asking your eyes for permission before he continues. You allow him, and soon you’re left in just a pair of boy shorts with a huge stain soaking at your core. The sight has Jungkook immediately leaning himself on his elbows against the mattress to get a better look.

“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his hands on the underside of your thigh. He pushes your legs up, examining you for the first time. “You’re soaked, Y/n.”

“S-Shut up,” you shy. “Do something already.”

Jungkook laughs at your embarrassment, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding it up and off your body.

“As you wish,” he whispers against your core. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth gently envelopes your clit. He sucks on it as you squirm beneath him, the intensity of his pleasure feeling like it’s going to be a lot to handle.

You slide your fingers into his hair when he plays at your entrance. It’s so wet, and he can’t control himself from sliding his finger in, knuckles deep, as you moan from his actions.

Your responses only fuel his fire, causing him to lap you up even more, to slip another finger in and curl it up into your g-spot. He can feel you tense, and he knows you’re close. He wants you to get there, but you stop him before he has the chance to.

“Want you, Kook,” you whine. “I wanna cum with you.”

“You wanna cum with me?” he restated your statement as a question.

You nod feverishly against his pillows, your eyes coming to lock with his.

“I want you inside of me when you make me feel good,” you explain. “That’s how I want it.”

Jungkook gulps. Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

“If that’s how you want it,” he smiles.

With a swift motion, he gets up to take off his boxers, his dick slapping against his abdomen as he does so.

It's almost comical how quickly he reaches for a condom in his nightstand drawer, slipping it on while his eyes stay right on yours. They tell you he’s been longing for you for so long. That this moment was one that he always dreamt of, but never thought would become a reality. You can only hope that yours convey the same.

Jungkook hovers over you again, his tip lining up with your entrance.

“Are you sure you want this? I can stop right now if you want me to,” he asks you again. There’s a worry in his eyes, as if he doesn’t think he’s the right one to take this from you.

“I want you, Koo. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Please take me,” you plea.

You watch that man above you gulp before he kisses the tip of your nose. He rests his elbows on the sides of your head, trapping you underneath him. With a kiss, you feel the burn of being stretched suddenly flood your system. He pushes in slowly, your back arching into him as he struggles to find a normal breathing pace.

It hurts, but he goes slow. He’s aware of your discomfort, and he wants you to say something before he continues.

“S’ this okay?” he asks you.

When you look down, you realize he’s only half way, and your head tilts back against sheets. He’s so big, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Mmhm,” you grip his shoulders. “You can move, Kook.”

Jungkook pulls out, and then goes back in quicker and deeper this time. The feeling causes you to dig your nails into the skin of his back, the pain and pleasure bringing you to a high you’ve never felt before.

“Ahh- Y/n,” Jungkook moans on top of you. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he keeps a steady and slow pace. “You feel so good,” he pants against your skin.

“F-Faster, Kook,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mm,” he hums, happily obliging to your request.

Jungkook speeds up the pace, his hips slapping against yours lewdly. There's so much liquid shared between the two of you, but neither of you care. It feels too good to stop.

“M’ feel good, baby?” He asks you, hovering his lips above yours. “This what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes,” you cry, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the name he called you.

Jungkook suddenly takes your hips in his hands firmly. Sitting on the back of his heels, his body towers over you before ramming his hips into yours again. The action causes you to tilt your head back, feeling fuller than you were just a minute ago in this new position.

“Yeah?” He licks his lips. His face looks demonic–like an actual sex demon is on top of you right now. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by this fat cock so bad, didn’t you, hm?”

Jungkooks fingers grip your hips tighter, slamming them against his own even harder than he did before. You can feel him against your cervix, hitting your g-spot with every exit and entrance of his cock in your pussy.

“Wanted you so bad, Koo,” you cry.

You feel your toes start to curl, and a part of you feels scared that you might cum too quickly. You want this to last longer.

“Yeah?” He bites his lip. Hearing you say that makes his head go fuzzy. The girl he’s wanted for so long, the girl he thought he could never have, is finally his. And he’s a part of something that is so special to you, he feels honored and overwhelmed all at the same time. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my dick?”

“K-Kook,” you whine. “S-Say you wanted me, too. S-Say–”

“Fuck, Y/n, I wanted you so bad,” he grunts at the thought. He feels angry for the time he’s lost due to thinking one thing when it was actually the other. He could have been with you like this every night. He could have been loving you and holding your hand, and kissing you all day long had he just grown a pair and done it earlier. He should have kissed you at graduation all that time ago. Or maybe even earlier at prom. He’s wanted you all along. And thinking about how he felt when you got together with Taehyung and Soobin made him feel a jealousy he’s never felt before. He can only imagine what he’s done to you. The fact that he had someone new every night to talk to you about makes his heart hurt with the fact that telling you those things might have shattered your heart into dust just as you dating someone else did to his own.

“I wanted you then, and I want you now, and I want you after,” he continues. “I don’t want to let you go ever again.”

Your back arches from his words, your neck falling back from the pleasure and the pain all at once.

“Koo,” you grab onto his wrist. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip again. His hair falls in front of his face as he watches your breasts move with his dick inside of you. “Cum for me baby, I’m not that far behind.”

Jungkook falls on top of you again. But this time, he brings your legs up over his shoulders, pushing into you even further than before. You’re starting to think he has an endless cock. Every new position he puts you in, you feel another inch inside of you.

You feel a white heat wash over you, and somehow you see stars as he continuously moves his dick in you harshly.

“A-Ahh,” you hear him moan. “You’re so tight–m’ gonna cum,” he tells you against your ear. “S’ that–that alright?”

He holds out until you let him, nodding into his cheek, too blissed out from your orgasm to form a worded response.

His thrusts get sloppy after you give him permission. The last few of them are hard and deep before you feel his dick pulse inside of you. A stream of sweet moans and your name falls from his lips as he releases inside of you. Out of all the music in the world, this is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

After a few moments to catch a breath, he pulls out, not wanting any of his cum to leak out of the condom as he begins to soften from his post-sex glory. Jungkook kisses you gently, moving your hair off your sweaty face. He kisses your cheek and your forehead before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You okay?” he asks you gently.

You laugh at his question. Hell, you were more than okay. Your best friend, first love, and current love, just took your virginity. Although you know you have a lot to experience in the sexual world, you whole-heartedly believe that it cannot get any better than this.

“Yes, are you?” you ask him back.

Jungkook laughs in the same way that you laughed at him.

“Is it safe to say that you’re my girlfriend now?” he asks.

“Only if the feeling is mutual.”

-----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts, 2023 ]

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rafecameronssl4t · 8 days

Note

How would Sarah and Wheezie react to baby Leo

Cameron’s meet Leo || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: before I wrote this. I realised that Sarah is older than reader, even though it's just a year older 🤯

Warnings: allusion to ppd, slight angst

Word count: 618

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You were no stranger to the scrutiny that came with your public life, but today felt different. Strolling through the bustling café with Leo in his pram, you felt a new layer of attention. The quiet coos and whispers that followed you as you approached your table were unmistakable. “Mrs. Cameron, this way, please,” the waitress said with a warm smile, leading you to where Wheezie and Sarah were waiting.

As you neared the table, Wheezie's eyes widened, her excitement palpable. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on Leo, who blinked up at her with wide, curious eyes. Sarah, catching Wheezie’s reaction, turned with a grin. “Wheezie, calm down. Let her sit,” Sarah said, her tone both amused and gently reprimanding. She rose to greet you, enveloping you in a hug and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Congratulations,” she beamed, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “Thank you, Sarah,” you replied, smiling as you removed your sunglasses and rested them on top of your head. You rocked Leo's pram with soft pushes, glancing at his tiny face that was a spiting image of Rafe. As you settled into your seat, you noticed a pair of young women walking by, their heads turned as they whispered to each other.

Their stares were unmistakable, their curiosity veiled but obvious. Sarah’s gaze followed yours, her concern evident. “We could move to a more private area if you’d prefer,” she suggested, her voice laced with empathy. You offered a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, it’s fine, really,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease stirring within. You cleared your throat, trying to push aside the discomfort.

You focused on Leo, seeking solace in the serene, innocent presence of your son as the chatter around you continued. "So, how's being a mother treating you?" Sarah innocently says with a smile as her and Wheezie focus on you. You take a moment to answer, your eyes flickering to Leo. "Uh- It's been okay. I've been getting help, especially since you know, Rafe has been travelling lately."

You honestly answer as Sarah nods. "When does he get back, do you know?" "This Friday. He was supposed to get back today actually from London, but a last minute meeting stopped him." You answer as Sarah hums in understanding. "You know you can always call us if you need help right?" Sarah says and you smile, grateful for her offer. Breakfast arrived and you all chatted away until Wheezie speaks up.

“Isn’t it kinda crazy that you’re older than Y/n—” Wheezie glanced at Sarah, who was about to interject, “—only by a year—” Sarah began to protest, but Wheezie pressed on, “—and Y/n already has a baby?” You felt a slight jolt at Wheezie’s observation, taking a sip of your water to mask your reaction. Her question, though innocent, stung more than you expected. You knew there was no malice behind it, but it highlighted a disparity that you weren’t entirely comfortable with.

“Crazy, right?” you said with a chuckle, trying to keep your voice light. Sarah’s eyes softened with sympathy, her gaze lingering on you as she sensed the subtle shift in your mood. You glanced down at the plate of pancakes before you, barely touched and now cold. The sight of the untouched food seemed to amplify the unease simmering beneath the surface.

You forced a smile, determined to stay engaged with the conversation and push aside the disquiet Wheezie’s innocent remark had stirred within you. The effort to remain present felt like a balancing act, your focus shifting between the cheerful chatter around you and the uncomfortable thoughts you tried to suppress.

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astonmartinii · 9 months

Text

bad blood (lando's version) | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem carlos ex!reader

band aid's don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might

based on this request:so reader is a famous model who’s also carlos ex (dated YEARS) and after the breakup he jumped straight to rebeca (we just need a tiny bit of bad blood). soo she and lando always got along, ever since carlos was in mclaren. the point is they get together and come hand in hand to a gp out of nowhere so drama and more bad blood surface - you can lead this to whatever you want hehe, thanks!!! - @lorenakaspersen

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

vogue

liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,209,433 others

tagged: yourusername

vogue: y/n y/ln takes the cover for this month, where she talks re-discovering herself and giving yourself time to move on. copies in stores everywhere this friday.

view all comments

user1: i am once again asking how the fuck that man fumbled a bad bitch like her

user2: do not bring that man up here, he actually boils my blood

user3: honestly thank god they wear helmets in f1 cause if i saw his smug little face i may have smashed by tv

yourusername: thank you for having me hehehehhe xx

vogue: you dropped this queen 👑

user4: not vogue supporting her more than carlos ever did 🤨

user5: at least lando still supports her

user6: i'm glad the friends she made... i.e lando, charles, max, daniel, etc did also abandon her when carlos just dropped her

hunterschafer: you're the person i see in your dreams

yourusername: are you sure i'm not just your sleep paralysis demon?

hunterschafer: you're welcome to stalk mine dreams anytime

user7: how am i meant to care about f1 without y/n?

user8: she's the reason i learnt about the sport but at leats now i have an excuse to support someone else LOL

landonorris: tinkerbell looks a little bit different here

yourusername: i thought you were too old to watch peter pan?

landonorris: i just said that so you would think i'm a big macho man :(

yourusername: that is tragic

landonorris: can i interest you in a movie night some time soon then

yourusername: you might

user9: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ^^

user10: idk but i am excited

f1wagupdates

liked by user11, user12 and 4,032 others

f1wagsupdates: carlos sainz debuts his new girlfriend rebecca donaldson at the bahrain grand prix, just one month after breaking up with model y/n y/ln. sainz and y/ln were together for three years, and sainz was seen with donaldson for the first time just a week after the breakup.

view all comments

user13: lol the wag accounts are done with his ass

f1wagsupdates: i am a y/n y/ln stan first and foremost

user14: anyone see the absolute stink eye charles and lando gave carlos LOL

user15: that's the thing when you're together for so long, the friends get attached as well

user16: i mean if certified homie hopper charles leclerc is calling your bluff then you know you've fucked up

user17: i will never understand how he jumped into a relationship with her after three years ?? LIKE IT WAS NOTHING

user18: things like that make me glad i'm single

user19: the thing that is bothering me that no one has said yet is the fact that he's been with her what a month? and he's already brought her to a race when he made y/n wait months to go to a race?

user20: screams insecurity - like "look i have moved on, i'm an alpha male who can get whoever i want"

user21: i never understood why he didn't let her come to races for months when they first got together, like not even his home race?

user22: i've always got the vibe that he thought that he was better than her and that she was using him?

user23: the way if he ever posted her (which was not very often) he never tagged her

user24: which is ironic because she's one of the most celebrated models in recent history, she has millions more followers than him and has a bigger network than him, so really if anyone was using anyone it was carlos using her

user25: anyone else pulling for her to get with lando?

user26: i always thought they got on more in the videos of them all together but honestly i just want her to be happy

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,018,552 others

yourusername: not much going on recently

view all comments

user27: SHE'S SO HOT

user28: i need her to give me one chance please

charles_leclerc: are we still down for the road trip to lourdes?

yourusername: needed now more than ever

charles_leclerc: trust and believe

user29: charles and y/n friendship you mean so much to me

user30: need her to sit in charles' side of the garage

user31: mother went to the university of servington where she got a degree is cuntology with a minor in slaying the haus down

danielricciardo: miss ma'am, leave some for the rest of us

yourusername: why thank you good sir

danielricciardo: where do i procure a veil as such?

yourusername: i may source one for you if you promise not to shave that moustache

heidiberger: preach

user32: i bet carlos just thought everyone would just forget about y/n when he dropped her, but he forgot that she's probably more liked on the grid than he is LOL

landonorris: why are you staring into my soul like that

yourusername: why are you lurking in my comment section

landonorris: i thought we were friends :(

yourusername: always and forever

user33: but he wants it to be more

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo

user33: I SAW THAT LANDO X Y/N COMING SOON?

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 803,774 others

landonorris: hostess with the most-ess?

view all comments

user34: is that a ... WOMAN?

user35: he's saying he's a host ... maybe he's hosting a friend who is a girl, it's not illegal

user36: i get your sentiment, but that photo is straight out of the soft launch girlfriend pinterest boards

user37: well now i'm picturing lando scrolling through pinterest and asking ??? to recreate the pics 😭

carlossainz55: missing my golf partner, round this weekend? ⛳️

landonorris: let me check my schedule buddy 👍

user38: okay... well someone else tell me that they can feel the vibe shift

user39: it's their first online interaction after the breakup, i think we can guess who's side lando is on

oscarpiastri: someone needs to debrief me asap

landonorris: someone forgot that he owns a phone

oscarpiastri: needed the added pressure of the public call out to make you actually do it

landonorris: fine, but you get three questions and that's it

user40: if the call out was public can't we get the public answers

yourusername: are you coming for my job?

landonorris: you saying i could model 😊

yourusername: i'm definitely saying you should let me give my agent your number

landonorris: you already have my number babe

yourusername: okay pretty boy

user41: i need this type of nepotism in my life

user42: i need the nepotism and the sexual tension cause PHEW it is through the roof

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,760,521 others

yourusername: enjoy the picture of me fucking up a pretzel

view all comments

user46: okay where are the detective freaks from f1twt?

user47: reporting for duty 🫡

user46: what car is that?

user47: it looks strikingly similar to a jolly, but i don't know if that's just my brain pushing me to make it lando. but there is a florist in monaco that wraps their flowers just like that as well ....

user46: thank you for your service

danielricciardo: this is very ballerina core 🩰

yourusername: has the old man been spending time on the internet?

danielricciardo: yes he has 😃

yourusername: omg proud

danielricciardo: no but seriously how did you do it? it looks sick

yourusername: very fiddly, needed an extra pair of hands

danielricciardo: an extra pair of hands [wiggles eyebrows]

yourusername: did you just comment your own stage directions?

danielricciardo: funny 😄

user48: okay i am glad we're not being deprived of the y/n and daniel friendship.

landonorris: i am enjoying this picture of you fucking up a pretzel

yourusername: i am a whore for carbs

landonorris: i am a whore for you

this comment was deleted

landonorris: i am also a whore for carbs (don't tell jon)

maxverstappen1: 📸📸📸 saw that mister !!

landonorris: you didn't see NOTHING

user49: we saw everything. i am so disappointed in lando, he's carlos' bestfriend and he's doing this?

liked by carlossainz55

user50: oh i know this man aint speaking

f1teaandgossip

liked by user51, user52 and 10,945 others

ftteaandgossip: carlos sainz was caught liking this tweet about his ex girlfriend y/n y/ln and his (former?) best friend lando norris. what do you think?

view all comments

user53: the audacity of men never fails to astound me

user54: you know what, i feel like a guilty man only acts this bold. so i'm saying it. i think there was overlap between his relationship with y/n and his relationship with rebecca

user55: you're right and you should say it

user56: carlos got with rebecca within a WEEK of the end of a three year relationship but is angry that she's finally moving on after months ?

user57: for real the first sight of lando and y/n was after at least two months

user58: i know people will say she's in the wrong because it is lando but honestly carlos has no leg to stand on with him parading rebecca around the paddock

user59: i really couldn't give a fuck if lando is his best buddy you act like a fool expect to get treated like a fool

user60: also the whole "whoring around the grid" is so dumb. you mean her FRIENDS? you know the friends she had to make when you would just leave her in the paddock or ignore her at parties ?

user61: babe really thought he was more loved in the paddock and expected everyone to go along with his messiness

user62: men don't talk about women this way challenge

user63: imagine talking about a girl you were with for THREE tears like this

user64: i wish lando and y/n all the best and i hope they're together for a long time, she deserves a good man after all of this

user65: i have faith 🤞

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,109,413 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sloppy seconds you say? i never come second with him. pun intended x

view all comments

user66: SERVE

user67: user67 found dead in her home, cause of death: this post

landonorris: what can i say i'm a giver 🤷‍♂️

yourusername: i'll say 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: ENOUGH

landonorris: i thought you were happy for us oscar :(

oscarpiastri: i am !! i even took the second picture. but i think you forget that i am staying with you in monaco :/

yourusername: whoops my bad

landonorris: i swear my hospitality is usually better

yourusername: i can attest to his hospitality

oscarpiastri: STOP PLEASE STOP

user68: poor oscar being traumatised by y/n and lando 😭

carlossainz55: real mature

yourusername: how about instead of liking shady tweets and commenting on my instagram posts, you come confront me like a real fucking person.

carlossainz55: you'd love that wouldn't you

yourusername: i really would because if i said everything you needed to hear i'd be banned from this app

carlossainz55: you really are the gold digging slut my parents warned me about

landonorris: you will absolutely not talk to her that way. if you do so again we'll have a very real problem

carlossainz55: you have no sense of loyalty lando

landonorris: the call is coming from inside the house

user69: the girls are FIGHTING

comments on this post have been limited.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,866,398 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: nothing better than a podium at home and time with family

view all comments

user72: the sky camera shady as fuck for cutting straight to y/n in the mclaren garage when carlos crashed LOL

user73: her and lando's dad trying not to laugh had me creasing

yourusername: beyond proud of you baby

landonorris: your support means everything pretty girl

yourusername: and your family are the loveliest, tell mama i said thank you for having me (and my sandwiches for the plane)

landonorris: she say's thank you and come back soon (i also want you to come home asap)

user74: he already refers to his house at their home

user75: and y/n has been accepted by the family - the sainzs could take notes

oscarpiastri: oscar piastri erasure

yourusername: sorry osc, you're our favourite pookie on the grid

landonorris: also mama made you sandwiches too

oscarpiastri: i know they were very yummy 😋

danielricciardo: HOLD ON, oscar is your favourite pookie, where am i ???

maxverstappen1: i think you'll find i am their favourite full stop

charles_leclerc: nuh uh it's clearly me

yourusername: i'll just say lando is my favourite

landonorris: and i'll say y/n is my favourite

yourusername: and that's that

danielricciardo: boooooooo.

maxverstappen1: cop out :(

charles_leclerc: 🍅🍅🍅

user76: i am so confused right now

yourusername

liked by bellahadid, landonorris and 3,109,766 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: you are in love, true love.

view all comments

user77: omg the letters? i swear there were letters in her first post after carlos took rebecca to the first race of the season

user78: wait so do you think they were from lando the whole time?

yourusername: yes they are from lando ! after the carlos stuff had somewhat died down he had them all delivered to me and it definitely swayed me for a first date

user79: but i thought some of those letters looked pretty old

landonorris: i won't deny that i liked y/n for a long time but i obviously couldn't express that so i put them in letters. an idiot was an idiot and i'll never not take my chance

user80: okay that makes this whole thing so much cuter

user81: y/n is the definition of never letting your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband

landonorris: you're my best friend and i love you so much

yourusername: i'd go through all this mess and all this heartbreak again if it meant i still end up with you

landonorris: but i'm by your side forever now you can't get rid of me

yourusername: i wouldn't dream of it

user82: lord i have seen it all, please bless me with a relationship like this

danielricciardo: god you people are ridiculously cute

oscarpiastri: just think yourself lucky that you no longer share a garage with them

landonorris: we're not THAT bad

oscarpiastri: i have working ears

yourusername: sorry not sorry osc x

fin.

note: hope you all enjoyed. i am dying trying to do 75 soft but i also signed up for burlesque class !!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 social media au

2K notes · View notes

vivalabunbun · 11 months

Text

Into the Sky of Artificial Stars

Summary: Could a chest that lacks a heartbeat still learn how it would feel? Could the whir of a motor be enough of a substitute?

Word Count: 25k (I will not explain myself)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow burn (oh my), Slow fic (oh boy), SMUT(r18+), NSFW, Researcher!Reader, insomniac!Reader, Android!Alhaitham, Workaholic!Reader, soft!Alhaitham, Modern AU, Android AU, human x android dynamics, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Heavy adult themes, academic trauma, toxic family pressure, toxic academia themes, struggles of poverty and academic inequality, TW: Exploration of grief, death, and guilt, TW: Survivor's guilt and tragedy, exploration of humanity and morality, slight mentions of violence, service top!Alhaitham, test subject to lovers? slightly possessive!Alhaitham? body worship, touch starvation? cunnilingus, he falls hard like a fool, but what is there to catch a fool who tried to reach for an unobtainable star?

Authors Note: This has been in the drafts for a very long time. My first foray into sci-fi kinda? I did my best with jargon and everything, so please forgive any mistakes I've made in regard to the technical stuff. An exploration into an artificial star. Enjoy

Are you just your conscience?

All the collective thoughts, desires, and ideals that congregate in your mind and influence your every action. Do your thoughts define you?

Are those cognitive functions, formed through a mix of instinct, teachings, and life experiences, what differentiates a man from a featherless biped?

If so, then are algorithms, simulations, and data sets interchangeable with what creates cognitive functions? Theoretically, it gives a machine the ability to develop a conscience. It gives a machine the ability to be human.

Perhaps, a sterile lab won’t be the most fitting environment to form such a thing.

What if we clothe the machine, provide a roof over its head in a nice quiet house, and feed its mind with the mundane details of existence? Then, could technology bring a machine over the boundary of humanity?

To engineer a brain, a conscience, a life with bare mortal hands. As if to replicate the gods. To compete with the authority of gods through scientific progression, many warn about the possible repercussions.

However, if to give and take life is deemed sinful to be done by mortal hands, then what made those unseen gods any different?

Regardless, such philosophical ramblings won’t help you in finishing the half-written report in front of you.

Looking past the two years' worth of reports sent already, innumerable papers penned by you within the sleep-deprived confines of the Akademiya. With a doctorate framed proudly on bland walls, that should be proof of your ability to type up a simple conclusion, right?

The weighted taps against a backspace key argue otherwise. Frustration leaves your lips in the form of a sigh as you test out a new string of words. Could these few sentences even be comprehensive of the leap in scientific progress made by mankind?

The shapes of letters merge together, forming incomprehensible blotches of black pixels against the white backdrop. Quickly, your lids shut to offer your eyes some much-needed reprieve from the harsh light of the monitor.

It was quite naive of you to believe subjecting your weary eyes to the punishment of light mode would drive up productivity.

Your fingers remove themselves from the keyboard, perhaps your body’s stubborn protest against sitting at the desk for another minute. Maybe a coffee break is an order.

You shouldn’t be too harsh on yourself, there hasn’t been a precedent for an experiment like this. A collaboration between the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan, the first of its kind.

Perhaps the real marvel is how the weight of their combined egos hasn’t sunk this project into the depths of abandonment.

With a subtle squeak, your office chair rolls back granting you permission to stand up and stretch your weary limbs. Letting out a slight groan as signs of time made themselves known to your bones. The ramifications of your negligence.

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely stride toward the kitchen. As you make your way to the end of the long, empty hallway a silvery hue steals your attention.

Slightly obscured by the oak door frame to your home library stood the culmination of your years of overtime and long nights. A surge of anticipation places a slight weightlessness on your legs.

Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view.

Structure much more nimble and organic than the gardemeks framework, with materials sourced from the finest suppliers. The most advanced software and artificial intelligence capabilities ever developed since the Akasha.

The first and only of his kind: The Android Alhaitham.

The said pinnacle of human ingenuity and knowledge is currently flipping through a paperback book as the sunlight illuminates his synthetic skin.

The bounce light made his silver locks glimmer. As your steps slowed to a stop, he took notice of your presence. A soft snap of pages closing resounds through the passive air as Alhaitham turns his focus to you.

Your gaze ran along the neat spines lining each shelf, a small stack of unsorted books still left by his feet, but this morning there were numerous identical piles littered all over the library.

He seems to not have any issues making progress on his assigned tasks, a great sign.

You note that his button-down was a different color today, a sign that he’s practicing switching to a new set of clothes regularly.

A sign of routine, developing habits, and showing his steady learning of human behavior.

The frustrations from an unfinished report fade into obscurity as the subject of your research continues to observe your form. How easy it is to forget the big picture when you stress over the small details.

With this gentle reminder, a soft curl tugs at the corners of your lips.

Alhaitham repositions his stance, turning his body to face you, you figure he must be anticipating another task from you. Since he seems to be mostly done with his previous one, why not assign a new one?

“Could you brew me a cup of coffee, Alhaitham?” As he processes your request, you inspect his teal eyes, catching the slight glow signaling that his response is ready.

“I could, but unfortunately the interval of opportunity has already passed.” His baritone voice articulates.

A subtle quirk made its debut on your brows as your eyes shifted toward a clock hanging up in the corner of the study, its ticking hands displaying the time: 5:15 p.m.

“Huh… you won’t grant me an extension?” You turn back to him.

“If you have a request then please state it between my working hours of 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., you’re always free to submit again tomorrow.”

He doesn’t budge. An android capable of autonomous training and self-study is different from those gardemeks who only function when given tasks. The ability to develop self-awareness, consciousness, and to think comes with its own caveats.

In Alhaitham’s case, his stubborn nature. Conceivably, he likely reviewed Sumeru’s labor laws and decided that he was entitled to such labor rights as well.

“I work overtime almost every day for your research and development, but you can’t spare me 15 minutes?” Your lips form a pout, but you already predicted his next output.

“Your poor work-life balance is not my responsibility.”

Your prediction was correct.

Another sigh leaves your lips, it’s just one of the trade-offs you must accept. After all, learning to be a human is the reason why he was created. A feat once thought to be unachievable. But he exists, and he’s developed quite a character.

To change the trajectory of this conversation you glance at the book held within his hold.

“Frankenstein by Mary Shelly?” You read the title aloud.

“Yes, the 1831 edition, it’s quite the story.” Alhaitham opens the covers once more.

“Mm, maybe I should be more cautious of what information you come across.” A subtle grin tugging at the corners of your lips as his teal eyes land back on you.

“It’d be a bit of an issue if you were to turn against me from the wrong influences.” Resting your body against the oak doorway as you observe the android process your jest.

“There are safety restrictions already in place to prevent such occurrences, the possibility is near zero. However, if you are still concerned then feel free to upload a list of banned materials for the next version update.”

A huff of a chuckle escapes you as you shift more of your weight against the wooden frame.

“Of course, of course, just remember to place your books back where you found them.” Pushing off the doorway, you allow Alhaitham to continue his unsupervised learning as you amble closer to the kitchen.

The soft clinking of cups and spoons chime through the evening air as you scoop a few ounces of ground coffee into the brewer.

As the water slowly brings itself to a low rumble, you occupy your wait staring out the glass and at the setting sun. The flaming scarlet hues and warmth blend into mellow indigo as the night begins to reveal her stars.

Dusk, when the line between day and night blurs to an indistinguishable mess. Would a singularity also look as luminous as the setting sun? The answer might be closer than ever before.

The reaction to the announcement of an android development project was at first astonishment, that human knowledge had progressed this far. And the secondary reaction that followed like ripples was fear. Fear that humans will soon be replaced by beings of silicon and steel.

That a singularity would signal the end of humanity.

Well, this was always the common reaction to disruptive change. Many cases of public pushback and hysteria against innovations you can reference throughout history. The human reaction to the unknown.

They always gossip and fearmonger about an android domination of all of Teyvat. But have those people ever stopped to consider that the android could simply be too lazy to have such ambitions?

Instead of becoming cruel overlords, they’d rather leave books strewn about as they dock themselves into their charging port.

To learn to be human means to learn human slothfulness too, no? Or maybe Alhaitham’s algorithm just decided to train himself to incorporate it. What a peculiar enigma he is, this android currently residing in your house.

Your thoughts circle back to a certain novel you haven’t touched in years. A work of science fiction written by a genius author barely over the cusp of adulthood.

You wonder how she would’ve described this impending singularity.

A distant toll rang from the depths of a dreamless void, each chime reaching closer and closer until the bright tune devolved into jarring blares. Piercing enough to set your heavy lids into motion.

Just as they peeked open, they flinched back shut from a stray ray that snuck between the gaps of your curtains.

Your leaden body groans at the brightness of the room, the luminosity much greater than when you had originally settled under the covers. Yet, even with your groggy complaints the alarm resting on the nightstand offered no mercy, continuously bellowing its monotone pitch.

With a sharp slap, your world returns to its silence.

Angling the alarm towards you as you creak open one eye, the blurry red pixels slowly merge together to display the time.

Didn’t you have a meeting scheduled for today?

Another groan follows your dreadful discovery and you roll back under the plush blanket. Not much different from a child trying to protect themselves from the grasp of a fictitious monster.

Soft comforters block the morning glow contained behind thick curtains, yet your permission to access a blank serenity was denied. It seems that your quota for sleep has been fulfilled.

Barring you from any excess repose, not that you expected anything less. A monster that torments a young mind might be fictitious, but the realities of capitalistic responsibilities unfortunately aren’t.

Taking in a deep inhale, you prep your body for the next set of dreaded actions with its drowsy limbs. Before it had the chance to protest, you kicked the covers off, ripping away the warm security from your skin.

Ambling down the hall you gradually made your way into the kitchen, there under the morning light sat a steadfast figure whose eyes never left the book in front of him.

“Good Morning.” You initiate the first conversation of the day.

“Congratulations.”

You pause, hand in the midst of rubbing away the tiredness of your eyes. Staring perplexingly at his sudden praise. Alhaitham’s focus remains on his novel even as he answers your unasked question.

“You’ve beat your previous record of how many alarms it takes to get you out of bed, I believe it went off five times this morning.”

A few beats of uninterrupted silence follow the aftermath of his response. A chain broken by a deep sigh which leaves your body.

“It’s far too early for this, Alhaitham.” Your hand goes back into motion, this time attempting to rub away frustration.

“Spare me your sarcasm until after you’ve made me breakfast and a cup of coffee.”

From the glance you took at your clock from earlier, it’s currently well into his operational hours.

“Understood.” Setting the book down, his tall frame makes its way into the kitchen.

Settling down at the lacquered table, your seat grants you a clear view of your android collecting some eggs from the refrigerator. Even as the hands of fatigue beckon your lashes to flutter shut, you refuse to indulge in such luxuries.

You had to watch just in case he decided his book couldn’t wait.

A series of trials and errors already well documented in those weekly reports back to the Akademiya and Institution. A human in training is bound to have some mishaps occur, or more accurately, this android might have different priorities.

One notable case was the time you asked Alhaitham to clean the floors while you attended a conference call. Only to step into puddles of soapy water the moment you leave your office door.

Connecting eyes with teal as he stood in the middle of it all mop in hand. For the time being, you’ve barred him from such tasks.

Although, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a mess just as an excuse to sit back on the couch with a book. This fickle android of yours. Your third sigh of the day.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The tranquil afternoon interlude that enveloped the house was interrupted by a sharp chime. Glancing at the numbers displayed on the corner of your screen, it looks like it’s right on schedule.

You had just concluded your monthly conference call, it’d be good to stretch your legs a bit after sitting through a few hours of professional formalities.

Leaving your home office to journey toward the front door, you spot Alhaitham’s frame by the entranceway. His head turns to acknowledge your presence. Passing him to make your way to the front door, you hear him shift closer.

Soon the brilliance of a star pours into the entranceway, illuminating the hall as the door opens.

“Good afternoon, grocery delivery?” The young man on the steps greets, a strain in his polite tone as bags weigh down on his arms.

“Yes, there was a last-minute addition of henna berries, were you able to get those?”

“Yep, they’re in one of these bags.”

“Thank you, sorry for the trouble, I’ll take it from here.” You cast a glance over your shoulders back at a tall form standing idly.

“Please come help with the groceries.”

“Understood.” It took only a few strides for the burden weighing down on the delivery boy, effortlessly hanging them all on his engineered arms without a hint of strain.

“Careful, they’re heavy, mister-” The warning dies at the tip of the young man’s tongue as his wide eye reflects the artificial glow of teal irises.

It’s best to end this trial now, to prevent a commotion or disturbing the delivery boy who isn’t paid enough to be frightened. You could see it in the slight tremble of his agape mouth as his brain processed the thing in front of him.

“Thank you again, please don’t mind him, have a great day.” Before you could hear his response, the door was shut.

A bit rude according to societal norms, but you’re sure a generous gratuity bonus paid on top of the delivery fee is enough to stifle any disgruntlement. Considering his reaction, it looks like your hypothesis remains correct.

The people of Teyvat still need more time to adjust to the existence of androids. Just because science progresses, it doesn’t mean human acknowledgment moves at the same rate.

Turning away from the door, a pair of glass irises connect with yours, a sheen of expectancy just under the brilliant teal hue. Alhaitham stands there with the bags still hanging from his arms.

“If you already know what I’m about to assign you, then you should just take the initiative, Alhaitham.” You huff.

“It’s not a bad habit to wait for any specific instructions.” Came his baritone rebuttal.

“Just take those to the kitchen.”

“Understood.” He pivots away, taking slow steps toward the kitchen.

“Ah, sort them into the fridge and cupboards too, do not just dump them on the counter.” You warn, learning from your previous mistakes.

Seriously, Alhaitham has long evolved past needing step-by-step detailed prompts, thus you suspect it's merely an act of his.

You’ve watched his character develop, his habits form, and his routine take shape. Just where did he learn such behavior? This strange android of yours.

You watch as he carries the numerous bags without a hint of strain. Alhaitham was much better suited for carrying your week’s worth of rations from the market. Unfortunately, he is proprietary technology.

Clearance to allow an android out into the world hasn’t been granted yet.

Not that you were eager to receive it. The logistics of such an event are a nightmare to plan. The protocols needed in emergencies to ensure the safety of civilians and the millions of mora poured into his creation.

There’s always a nonzero chance his system gets overloaded from trying to analyze every blurred face in a crowd. A nonzero chance that he would simply wander beyond the merchants and their fruit stalls. A nonzero chance that the gem implanted between his collarbones could spark curiosity.

Those same curious eyes could catch onto the artificial glow of teal irises, morphing curiosity into terror.

Even in Fontaine where it was more common for machines to walk among crowds, they were always designed to look like machines. Their clockwork pieces are obvious and distinguishable, a design choice to bring comfort to the mortal psyche.

An easy way for a human to differentiate a person and a thing. If that line becomes blurred, then…

With a deep sigh, you reel your thoughts back from their philosophical journey. Regardless, it’d be a problem for the future to handle.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Soft clacks resound from the keyboard as a new string of words appears on your screen, documenting the events of the day on your laptop as you sit on your sofa.

The soft cushions are a welcomed change from a stiff office chair. Just over the top of your screen, Alhaitham sat across from an adjacent couch. Methodically folding a basket of laundry and sorting them into piles.

An easy enough task for him, but as you watch you make sure to note down the improvements in his motor skills and dexterity. Movements organic and fluid, much like those of a human.

It truly is astonishing just how far technology has progressed, from clockwork pieces and clunky steps to the specimen sitting just a few steps away.

A tall and sturdy frame, well-portioned face with handsome teal irises, and synthetic starlight hair. Features created from the finest equipment and materials, a truly magnificent piece of scientific progress.

Amid your appreciation for his structure, Alhaitham halts all motion, setting down the towel back into the basket. Resulting in your eyebrows creasing together.

“What’s wrong Alhaitham? Did you forget how to fold a towel?”

Alhaitham did not attempt to entertain your jest, so much so, that he simply stared past you. Teal eyes honing in on an object just beyond you, never breaking focus to discern the bewilderment on your face.

Finally relenting, you follow his stare toward a clock, reading the time: 5:00 p.m.

“Seriously? You haven’t finished folding the laundry yet,” you remark in utter exasperation.

The teal glow of his eyes shows that he’s received your remark, yet he doesn’t make an effort to return a verbal response. He chooses instead to simply continue staring at the time as his hands wait by his side in opposition.

Him staring at a clock, you staring at him, a one-sided showdown.

A naughty cat prancing about a countertop where it shouldn’t be could simply be picked up and removed.

A disobedient dog dirtying the couch with its muddy paws could be lured off with the sight of a treat.

But an android? What are you going to do to an android whom you had to tilt your head up to make eye contact with?

This wasn’t a hill you’re willing to die on, thus with a dismissive wave of your hand, you concede. Allowing Alhaitham to do as he pleases, which he graciously does. His form leaves the couch, heading in the predictable direction of the library as a deep sigh leaves you.

This stubborn android of yours, you made sure to document this on today’s report. Just as how it was yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before that.

Hopefully, in the event of an actual android apocalypse, he might show you the same leniency. You couldn’t help but scoff at your ridiculous musings. A machine with nothing but a motor and battery in his chest, would he understand leniency even if you were to code it into him?

Soon his frame comes back into view, a pile of books clutched within his hold, just as you predicted. Shamelessly, he sits in the middle of his unfinished chores while leisurely scanning the pages in front of him.

This fickle, strange, and stubborn android follows the rhythm of his own motor regardless of what protocols you instill.

Yet, as you watch his fingers flip through the worn book and take up space on your couch, a smile develops on your features. A soft curl of your lips, easily obscured by the screen of your laptop.

A fickle, strange, and stubborn android is not too different from a person, one who had a heartbeat.

An android who takes up space on your couch and house, making it a bit less empty than previously. That was good enough.

What made man? Intellect? Innovation? Language?

This was the dilemma assigned to him since the very first time his system powered up in that facility, welcomed into this world by glaring fluorescent lights and the numerous stares of figures in white coats.

A dilemma that follows him even to his current place on a spacious couch.

According to sources pulled from the Akasha and cross-references from numerous printed materials made available to him, many throughout history have been pondering this same conundrum. A philosopher once defined man as featherless bipeds.

However, wouldn’t this make a plucked chicken a man too? A definition so ambiguous a mere student proved the teacher wrong.

Then, is man defined by their flesh? Having skin and bones instead of silicon parts and metal components? To have blood pumped by a heart instead of operating off a battery and motor? Was it biology that defined man?

But if that was the simple truth, then why was Frankenstein’s creation addressed as nothing more than a monster?

From his arms to his legs to his mind, everything which made up that creature was human. He had blood, he had flesh, he had bones. So why was he chased away by flaming torches and pitchforks as a mob screamed ‘monster’? Why was a creature made from human flesh not human?

His train of thought halts as a familiar set of steps patter against the floor. Automatically, his sights hone in at the corner of a wall even before your face reveals itself from behind it.

Teal-colored eyes refocus to catch the subtle perk of your eyebrows and widened eyes. An expression of surprise he analyzes, his immediate focus must have caught you off guard.

Did you have some other test outlined for him? Did you need to collect more data from earlier today? Another household task perhaps?

How unfortunate, the hour on the clock read half past 8 p.m. Have you not learned from your tardiness the week prior?

“If you have a request, then please wait until 9 a.m. tomorrow when I’m within my business hours.”

Even with the wall partially obscuring your form, the restrained giggle through lips fighting back a grin was picked up by his audio system.

“No, no, there’s no more tasks for today.”

As your gaze centers on him, he takes note of the refractions of fluorescent lights along your irises.

“Then is there something you’d like to discuss?” He prompts.

“Mm… no, not right now.”

His stone-faced stare was enough of a response, judging by the smile spreading across your features.

“I just felt like checking up on you, after all, you are the most proprietary piece of technology at the moment.”

At times like these, Alhaitham felt that the audio cue of a sigh was the most effective communication out of all the languages created by man. Muffed chuckles accompany it.

“I’ll leave you be then.”

The floorboards trill under your steps as you amble towards the kitchen. Alhaitham returns to the last few pages still left open on his lap.

Small tinkering from beyond the living room serves as an ambient tune. The swift opening and closing of a refrigerator door. A harsh pull on a microwave door is contrasted by the bright beeps of buttons, leading to a low hum.

He hypothesizes there to be some leftovers spinning around.

After the microwave sang its concluding chimes, the clatter of a plate follows a firm tug. A drawer rattles open, metal clinking against metal as you sift around for the right utensil. The drawer rattles again as it closes.

Rhythmic footsteps take center stage as they trail back down an empty hall, Alhaitham waits to hear the resounding click of a door returning to its frame. Just as the final echo of the click sounds out through the air he places the finished novel on the coffee table.

Leaving the comfort of the cushions, he makes his way to the kitchen to access the aftermath. A microwave door left wide open, a drawer only halfway closed, and of course another dirty coffee mug in the sink.

Returning the microwave and drawer to their rightful states, his teal eyes count the pile of cups sitting since this morning. A collection that grew throughout the day.

Alhaitham looks up in the direction of your office. A soft glow leaked out from under the gap of the door, bleeding light into the dim hall. His systems identify the audible taps of a keyboard and the occasional shift of an office chair. He deduces that you were working overtime again.

He found it a bit ironic at times. A body of mechanical components has no qualms about lounging on a sofa. But you, a creature of flesh and blood, refuse to submit to the allure of rest. Although, Alhaitham wouldn’t find it too implausible that coffee ran through those veins of yours instead.

Repetitive clacks of keys and mouse clicks play a melody he had heard ever since the first day he opened his eyes.

A tune that accompanies the rhythm of his steps and motions when he goes about his tasks as you document them.

A lullaby that plays after his routine tasks as he heads back to his charging port when you log a daily report.

An accompaniment to the silent moon and her stars as you stay up at a desk.

Needing to reach the next exit criteria. Needing to collect the next set of data. Needing to submit the next report.

Would it be because a body of flesh has agency? With cells in a losing race against time, was there something you wanted to attain within your mortal hands from this research before the race ended?

Or did you just want to fill the vacant lull of this house with those little taps of a keyboard?

Regardless, it’s not within his capacity to disturb your work. Thus all he could do was roll up his sleeves, turn on the running water, and pick up a sponge. Scrubbing the cups with warm soapy water, imitating the motions you’ve shown him before, until the dried stains vanish.

If it’s not featherlessness, if it’s not bipedalism, and if it’s not flesh… then could it just be agency that made him different from you?

Maybe he’ll ask you another day, placing the cups into the dish rack.

Sorting and organizational tasks are his strong suit, in other words, he’s very good at completing easy jobs. Leaving the more… tedious chores to you.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you rest on the handle of the broom. The hallway between your office and the bedrooms is the last section that needs to be swept.

Alhaitham was likely back in his place on the couch, book in hand as he lounged around. Weren’t androids created in hopes of making life easier?

So much for that, you internally huffed, repositioning your grip on the broom. A soft but bright clink catches your attention. Glancing down, you quickly discover the source. A ring wrapped around your finger.

Kept on your finger for so long, it’s become almost an extension of yourself, this keepsake piece of jewelry.

Abandoning the broom against a wall, your other hand fiddles with the gold band. A frown forms upon your lips when a faint scratch shows itself on the gold surface

Gingerly, you remove the ring, pinching it between your fingers as you hold it up to the light, examining the damage closer. The shine of its once-polished surface was dulled by trivial scuffs and dents, damaged by the signs of time.

Regrettably, it seems you’ve been neglecting it as well.

So much so, that the ring felt compelled to remove itself from your grasp in protest. Slipping out of your tender hold, which propels you into motion, graceless attempts at catching the small piece of jewelry to no avail.

It soon collides with the wooden floor as a chime rings out, still, gravity didn’t buy you enough time to catch the evasive gem. For it then decides to run under the gap of a door, disappearing from your sight. Leaving you there in defeat.

Taking a deep inhale, holding it for a few seconds, you release the air in your lungs. Returning your gaze up from the wood grain, you stare at the obstacle in front of you: a mere door.

Its brass knob gleams as if to taunt you, daring you to open it, to face what lay beyond. Slowly, you release your clenched fingers, setting your hand back into motion. You’re far too grown to be scared of a room in your own home, especially when you know what is behind it.

Its hinges ring out in surprise, it’s been a while since they were opened. The daunting door opens up to reveal a lackluster collection of old furniture, picture frames, and various other assortment of items.

Their forms all covered by plain sheets thrown over them, silhouettes, outlined like ghost. A slight tickle appears in your nose from the layers of dust you disturbed.

A poor, unfortunate room you’ve designated as storage, where items go to be neglected. You were busy enough with work as it is.

To avoid seeing the reminders of responsibilities you’ve been pushing off, you’d rather throw them behind a door. Out of your sight, out of your mind.

The sooner you find that ring, the sooner you can turn a blind eye to the various items you’ve long abandoned yet refused to let go of. Amongst the dull dust and sheets, it wasn’t very hard to spot the golden glimmer from peaking through.

Trudging towards the mischievous ring, you kneel to finally catch it within your hand. Such a troublesome thing, you chide as you stand back up. Bracing your other hand on the nearest sheet-covered surface, only for it to come into contact with an odd object.

Startled, you instinctively hold onto both the ring and the odd object as you jolt back up. Glancing down at your hands, your eyes finally identify the object.

A collection of tiny planets and stars dangling from thin strings glimmered with the soft light creeping in from the afternoon sun. A soft smile made its way to your lips.

How silly it was that a toy made to entertain young infants had you so enraptured. You bought it on a whim, then tossed it into the depths of a dust-covered room. And yet it’s now back in your hands. Perhaps the beckoning of the stars still calls for you.

A part of you wonders if it was your fascination with the night sky that caused sleep to evade you. Sitting up on a mattress well past bedtime to gaze out to the vast ocean of dazzling and blinking lights that dotted against a navy backdrop. While the pristine radiance of the moon reflected off your irises.

Or did your fascination develop because it was always the moon and her stars that silently accompanied your long nights?

Gentle lights who lent you their well wishes and encouragement as you anguished through assignments and exams.

What an honor it was for you to be able to witness her beauty so often. It was a pity that some, who disregarded her grace in favor of dreams, weren’t able to experience the brilliance of a starry night.

Maybe your parents fell in the category of the majority. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t even fathom such a thing.

A past conversation over an old wooden table started in your mind before you could muster the strength to push it back.

–----

“C’mon, eat, eat.” Your mother places a hearty serving of Biryani in front of you.

The old kitchen table groaned under the weight of the spread of dishes on its surface. To call it anything short of a feast would be a lie. The walls of the modest home are filled with a variety of rich aromas and spices.

“You have to eat to study harder, don’t think just because you made it into the Akademiya you can take it easy now.” Your father remarked.

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.” You picked up your fork.

Letting out a chuckle, he pats your back as a rare smile graced his stern face. Your mother’s face mirrored the same radiance, the beaming glow of pride. For you, their daughter, their only child, and only hope had been accepted into the Akademiya.

The most prestigious university of all of Sumeru and Teyvat, with millions competing for those few spots each and every year. Only the best of the best, only those who outshone the rest, and only those gifted and blessed would ever be admitted.

Yet, you were sent a letter from the oh-so-grand institution.

A child from a town far away in the shadows of the grand Akademiya was accepted.

What were the odds of that? For a child whose own parents never got the opportunity for higher education to become the first to go off to university? The cause of this celebratory feast.

The warm Spring breeze contributed to the sweetness of this small moment in time, as plates were passed and glasses clanked.

All those scattered notes, cramped hands, and revisions have rewarded you with the golden brilliance of sunrise after endlessly long nights.

A smile crept up the corners of your lips. A light has finally appeared to illuminate this trending path you’ve climbed.

Your father washed down his previous bite with a sip from his cup, placing it down before he began his next question:

“Have you decided on which Darshan to go into?”

The sweet breeze turns into a chill down your spine as your fork halts its motion. The dilemma you have been dreading has finally arrived at the kitchen table.

You had to memorize every mathematical formula. You had to pinpoint every detail in a historical timeline. You had to know every syntax of a sentence. You had to understand the molecular structures of life.

A child had to learn everything, and now they had to pick something to learn. How would the child know? The child only knew how to study.

“Amurta? Spantamad? Oh, what about Kshahrewar? I heard that it was also good.” Your mother chimed in.

“Amurta?” Your father scoffed a bit.

“Dear, as if this tuition isn’t expensive enough, think of how much med school will cost.”

“Oh I know, I know, but you know how well doctors get paid! I heard those labs also give a decent salary.” Your mother reasons.

“Ah, but it takes too long. Engineering isn’t half bad either, there’s been a demand for more engineers recently.” Your father takes another sip of his drink.

“Oh, but it’s not up to us,” she turned to face you.

“It’s up for our little scholar now isn’t it?”

A paradoxical question, because your options were already decided for you from the very start.

Carefully selected paths were already laid out before you as your parents watched on with expecting eyes, waiting for your foot to take a step on the path they wanted most.

Poking at a stray grain of rice on your plate, you gather up the scattered pieces of courage. You were a child who only knew how to study, yet, a child is still susceptible to dreams, no?

“I have thought about it.” You began.

“And?” Your mother couldn’t help but nudge you to continue.

“I was thinking about Rtawahist,” you confessed.

It was as if even the sweet Spring air wanted to escape the now-still walls, leaving dread to fill the void it had left. No dishes were passed, no utensils rattled, and no cups clinked. Just bewildered stares you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

“Rtawahist? As in the school that looks at the sky?” Your father’s face had returned to its stern default.

“Astronomy? Yes, that’s the Darshan that studies Astronomy.” Your eyes didn’t dare leave your plate.

Among the options selected by them from their perceptions of future opportunities and prestige for you. You dare interject with one of your own.

A deep sigh sealed your fate.

“Astronomy? You want to study Astronomy? And get what job?”

The pierce from your father’s harsh tone made you flinch, even though you expected it.

“You can look at the stars for free, why would I pay to send you to school to study something so useless?”

“There are jobs for Astronomy.” You reasoned.

“Like what?” His finger drummed against the wood.

“Like-”

You made the mistake of looking up from your plate, the fragile wisps of courage dissipated like smoke the moment you did. All the arguments and rebuttals you had prepared vanished along with it. The frown that pulled down your father’s face and the scrunched brow concern of your mother’s were enough to snuff out your pitiful rebellion.

“Go on.” He challenged.

“...”

“That’s what I thought.” Your father snatched up his cup.

Your focus retreated back to your plate, recentering on the grains of rice you pushed around with the ends of a fork. A motion that continued until another hand stopped yours.

“Little one…” Your mother began.

Her thumb traced over your fidgeting hand, a touch which comforted yet scorned you all at once.

“You know that lady who lived down the street? Her son got a career working with computers and now they live in a big house, doesn’t that sound nice?”

You hummed.

“Kshahrewar isn’t so bad, right? Just a few years and then you can get a good job.”

Yes, she had spelled out the purpose of your studies like red-inked corrections on a test. It was how it always was, why did you think it would change now?

Having to prove you deserved the food on the plate in front of you.

Having to bring home top grades to prove all those books and materials were worth it.

Having to get a job that could break this cycle your parents were trapped in. How else would you be able to pay them back?

It was their mora, earned from long hours and labor, that fed you, clothed you, and sheltered you. They made your world with their calloused hands. It was their justification to command it as well. You were their only child, their only investment.

This was the dilemma imposed upon you.

–----

Your fingers clench around the childish imitation of the night sky, running the plastic surfaces under your mindless touch. Thoughts still light years away in the recesses of your memories.

How silly, for someone who loved the planet and the stars so much how did you forget that one fascinating detail? Planets orbit a sun because of gravity.

It was the force of a greater mass that commanded the lesser, it was what kept a planet going round and round within its grasp. It was the gravity of the sun that gave a planet a direction, a path to follow, a purpose even.

Perhaps it’s because the sun knew what was best for its little planet.

It was the diplomas framed nicely on a wall that granted you a secure job, it was your cushy job that permitted you to purchase this cushy home.

Your parents planned this out long ago, thus you merely just followed.

However, when the sun disappears, when the central mass that gave a small planet a purpose disappears, what would the little planet do?

Drifting endlessly in a vacuum of nothingness, with no direction, no path, no light. No day or night and an endless Winter, would it be as if the world stopped spinning.

That little planet would be no different than a cold lump of rock in a vast emptiness.

A sharp creak pierces through the tormentful quietude, a chirr that reels your thoughts back to a dusty room. Head instinctively following the direction of the noise, you fixate on the doorway.

Catching the diffused afternoon sun glimmering in silver locks reminiscent of starlight.

Alhaitham stands silently at the threshold of the door, its frame perfectly centering him as his teal eyes analyze you. Not a single engineered limb crossed the boundary of the dusty room. Just as it was defined in a set of restrictions implemented into his system by you.

As evidenced by his unintentional disregard for his environment, the floorboards bearing witness to his careless execution of chores, you restricted him from this decrepit room.

Although all it contains is a chaotic collection of trinkets and keepsakes, the dust-coating provides them with a blanket of security. You saw no reason to change it.

A telling teal glow blinks momentarily before Alhaitham breaks the lull.

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

It was just now that you noticed the wet trails rolling down your cheeks. Wiping away the cooling dampness on your skin, you confirmed the presence of tears. Your senses took their time returning from their escapade.

Alhaitham remains in his spot, patiently awaiting your next response. How embarrassing it is, to be seen in such a state by a being who could shed no tears. Quickly, you wipe away the trails on your other cheek.

“I’m fine, just lost in thought for a moment.” Swiftly you place the toy down.

A smooth weight encased in the palm of your hand reminds you of the ring, the item that lured you into this dusty room.

Perhaps it should be best to have let it remain undisturbed on your finger. It’s a common wives’ tale that keepsakes ward off bad omens.

“Is that truly all?” He made a no move, his eyes rescanning the environment as if unconvinced by your answer.

You wonder if it’s because of some protocol or conditional in his software. Safety measures set in place during this test of whether an artificial being could live in harmony with mortals.

However, as you gaze upon your magnum opus the specifics of programming and software fade into irrelevancy. Trailing your eyes up from his teal irises to his starlight silver trusses that glimmered in the soft light, revealing a hint of mint. It took you a while to find that exact shade during his manufacturing stage.

There’s always a chance that a drifting planet could be caught in the orbital pull of another. Whether it be man-made or not didn’t matter.

As long as it was of a significant mass its gravity should be enough to pull a lonely planet from its aimless wanderings. It can set the stray planet into a new orbit, giving it a new path.

A small lump of rock could find a new star to center around.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

You will be fine. Slowly, and with one step after another, you will be fine one day.

The typical 24-hour day for a working adult can be broken down into a set schedule. Waking up at around 8 a.m. to wash one’s face and brush their teeth as they make themselves presentable for work. Followed by a light breakfast or a cup of coffee before.

Some then start their commute to work or jump onto their desktop to clock in around 9 a.m. to begin their work. In the middle of their shift, usually around noon, they are granted a one-hour lunch break, after that they work until 5 p.m. when they finish their work.

Coming back home to enjoy dinner around 7 p.m. followed by an hour or two of leisure before a bedtime routine begins. Washing the day's influences off oneself, brushing their teeth, and changing into comfortable attire.

If they want to get a restful 8 hours of sleep they cannot go to bed any later than 10:45 p.m. to account for the 15-minute downtime to allow the body to enter the sleeping state.

This cycle then resets and repeats just as the sky cycles through the sun and moon. A typical and average reality for most adults in Sumeru. Well, from the data he pulled from the Akasha, this was the typical day for the average working civilian.

It just so happens that you’re a stray data point skewing the graph.

If he were to estimate your bedtimes from the activity of your desktop and laptop, it would be a chaotic set of timestamps ranging from 2 a.m. to 5 a.m., sometimes the activity on your devices never ceased. An indication of what is referred to as an ‘all-nighter’.

Behavior that might be acceptable for those attending the Akademiya, but certainly not for a working adult.

At this moment, Alhaitham stood in the hall just a few steps away from your bedroom door. His frame remained motionless to avoid disturbing the floorboards beneath him.

Taking into account your device’s activities, Alhaitham estimates your bedtime was 4: 45 a.m. this morning. Given how your alarm is set to around 8 a.m., amounting to about 3 hours of sleep.

Not even half of the recommended time by Sumeru’s health administration.

By all means, Alhaitham finds it confounding how you’re still able to perform so efficiently at your job, managing both the Insitute and Akademiya while operating on a few morsels of sleep.

He wonders if that was the reason why you were selected as the personnel who’s facilitating his learning.

Perhaps, they hoped he’d emulate your work ethic and efficiency. How unfortunate, his self-learning pivoted him away from such conduct.

As he stands observing the woodgrain of your door, Alhaitham finds himself at a crossroads. It’s not within his capacity to interfere, conditionals coded into his software to prevent him from disrupting your privacy.

Laws mandating the privacy of employees and civilians alike.

Simultaneously, there are protocols instilled in him that instruct him to prevent harm from befalling you.

A contradiction. Something that would cause a regular system to return an error as it fails to satisfy one conditional while trying to work within the bounds of another.

Chronic sleep loss results in an increased risk of heart attacks, strokes, and hypertension.

Long-term sleep loss also results in impaired memory and concentration, although it’s not affecting your productivity now, it doesn’t mean it won’t decline soon.

These statistics were all provided by Sumeru’s health administration.

The effects on the brain are quite severe as well, with increased feelings of stress, anxiety, and depression.

A quiet afternoon scene replays, in a dust-covered room, where he found you staring off at nothing as silent rivulets rolled down your cheeks.

That memory stored within his RAM was enough for Alhaitham to come to his conclusion.

Alhaitham must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.

To allow you to continue your destructive routine which is proving to be detrimental to your health would be inadvertently allowing harm to befall you. Thus, he decides one conditional must override another.

Careful to prevent the hinges of your bedroom door from trilling, Alhaitham enters. Analyzing the shape outlined by messy layers of blankets draped over your figure, you must still be in the depths of slumber.

There are about 15 minutes before your first alarm is set to go off, since your commute was a simple walk to your home office, you had the flexibility to sleep through a few grating beeps.

This habit could use a few improvements. He turns his focus to the thick curtains hiding the room away from the greetings of a morning star.

Sunlight sends a signal to the pituitary gland, calling to suppress melatonin production and increase cortisol production and serotonin.

A natural cue for your body to start, to allow the bright rays to touch your skin would also be good for vitamin production too.

With a simple tug, the thick drapes were pulled away, granting the rays of the sun to enter and illuminate the still room.

Your body instinctively retreats deeper under the covers, a clear sign that the light is doing its job. He’ll leave the rest up to the alarm impatiently waiting to belt out its chorus of pitches. Just like the shadows slipping away, he exits just as quietly.

It took only two alarms to get you out of bed and ambling down the hall toward the kitchen. A 60% decrease from when the curtains were shut, however, more trials are needed to conclusively establish a pattern.

His teal gaze follows you as you approach the kitchen. Hands rubbing at your eyes.

“Why is it so bright?” Your words were groggy.

“It’s morning,” he answers.

An unamused glare replaces the fatigue in your expression, Alhaitham deems his response satisfactory.

After a deep sigh, you shut your eyes again, still trying to adjust to the brightness surrounding you, hands returning to rub at your eyelids.

Excessive rubbing of the eyes isn’t good for them, he notes. However, before he could address it another prompt from you took priority.

“Did I leave my curtains open last night?” You asked yourself.

“Coffee?” He interjects.

Glancing back up at him, you paused for a moment as your groggy mind remembered why you traversed to the kitchen in the first place, diverting your attention away from mysteriously moving drapes.

“Yes, please make me a cup, Alhaitham.”

“Understood.”

The android turns toward the marble countertop, preparing the coffee grounds into the machine as you sit at your place at the table.

One day isn’t enough to correct a bad habit, but over time, bit by bit, your schedule will fall into a new rhythm.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The cheerful doorbell ring interrupts Alhaitham amidst reorganizing the books on a shelf. Right on schedule.

From just down the hall he hears the knob of your office door turn as it opens, followed by a few cautious steps as you venture closer to the front door. As you pass the doorway of the library, Alhaitham observes the furrow between your brow on your perplexed face.

“Is there someone at the door?” You turn to him.

Another ring followed by a few gentle knocks answers your question for him as your head snaps back into the direction of the noise. Crime in this suburban neighborhood is very low, but he does understand why you’d want to be careful.

Perhaps, he should accompany you to ease your nerves over the sudden ring from the door.

With an android just behind you, you had finally mustered up the courage to answer the daunting door under his teal supervision.

“Hello, delivery from Lambad’s Tavern, paid online.”

“Huh?-”

“One order of Minty Bean Soup, one order of butter chicken, and one rose custard?” The delivery man interrupts your confusion as he lists off your entrees.

“Yes…” you reply as you cast a glance back at an idle android.

The entrees listed were all dishes you asked him to make you for lunch a few hours earlier. Judging by the suspicion upon your furrowed brows, he could tell that you noticed as well. However, with a delivery man holding out the takeout bag on the front steps. It’d be rude to just have him remain there, no?

“Enjoy your meal!” He announces as he hands over the bag into your arms.

“Yes, thank you.” You close the door, spinning around almost instantly to confront the android with the bag still in hand.

“Did you order this?”

“Yes.”

“Again? I asked you to make food, not order it,” you tsk.

“I did it to optimize my time.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“All you have to do is heat up the frozen meals.”

“Then according to protocol, I’d have to stay in the kitchen to watch over the oven and stove, not to mention the dishes I’d have to wash afterward. So ordering takeout would save time as well as not prevent me from my task of organizing-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” You concede with a sigh.

Taking a few steps past him towards the direction of the kitchen before you pause midstep to turn back to him.

“Do not use your funds to order weird things off the internet.” You warn before promptly continuing on your way to have your late lunch.

“Understood.”

Just as he suspected, there isn’t a problem that can’t be helped with a bit of mora. If Alhaitham were to follow your request as you instructed, he knew that the reheated meal would turn cold as it sits abandoned on the kitchen table.

Even when he informs you of his task’s completion, you’d push back your lunchtime until you needed another dose of caffeine.

However, a simple ring of a doorbell could do what he can’t. Drawing your attention and body away from the confines of your desk. An efficient reminder to have your meals at a regular time if he says so himself.

Besides, fresh ingredients are better than frozen meals in terms of nutrients.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The sun had long retreated into a navy blanket of the night, allowing the moon to take its place in the sky. Serene beauty watching over the nighttime bustle of Sumeru city slowly peters out, and many return to their homes at the beck and call of slumber.

Alhaitham settled himself upon his spot on the couch, a lamp just off to the side illuminating the pages of his book softly. The quiet lull of the living room periodically broken by the crisp turn of a page.

The typical rhythm that resonates through the house around this hour. His acute senses pick up a frustrated pair of steps pattering closer.

Ah, yes a new accompaniment has jumped this evening's tempo.

“Is the router having issues again?” You groan as your frame appears from around the corner.

Casting a halfhearted glance off to where said device sat on a side table, his teal eyes return to his book.

“The light shows that it’s online.”

“Then why is it taking forever to upload a simple file? It’s been five minutes and it’s not even halfway done.” You took quick strides past his idle frame.

Crouching down to be at eye level with the device in question. Unplugging the power cord from its back and then sticking it back. Eyes studying the blinking lights as the router reboots and reconnects to the internet.

Pulling out your phone, you sigh as you try to load up a webpage only to be met by a spinning circle of contemplation.

“Network providers tend to have slowdowns this late at night, some say it's due to bandwidth congestion while others argue that they do it to cut costs,” Alhaitham states, teal eyes honed in onto the text as to avoid your pouting glare.

“Very helpful, Alhaitham.” Another sigh leaves you as you stand back up.

He spoke the technical truth, those companies do tend to slow down their networks at night to save on some operational costs.

However, in this case, it was the former that was causing your device’s screens to perpetually stay in loading. Activities such as streaming videos, music, or downloading files take up the most bandwidth.

Alhaitham simply wanted to download some digital copies of recent scientific journals, and maybe a few songs here and there as well. All done simultaneously which led to some congestion.

How unfortunate.

“This has been happening for the past month now, I should call the network provider, it’s driving me up a wall.” Another groan of frustration.

His teal eyes follow your figure from behind the tops of his book, watching you rub your temples as if to expel the exasperation from your body with each mumble that leaves your lips.

“The internet’s so slow I can’t even connect to the Akasha’s databases, that file is still uploading, what should I do in the meantime?”

His hearing was able to pick up each syllable uttered from under your exhausted breath. He shifts his focus momentarily toward the clock just across the room, reading: 10:00 p.m. Since you asked, it’s only right that he responds with his input.

“It’s an issue beyond your control, the best option to utilize your time at this moment would be to get an adequate amount of rest.”

This time it was your turn to respond to him with a deadpan stare, clearly unamused by his suggestion.

“I want to analyze a few more datasets.”

“Missing a few hours of overtime won’t have any determinate effects on your productivity or livelihood.”

“This is for the sake of your development, Alhaitham.” You sigh as if your statement would mystically change his rationale.

“The short-term gratification you’ll get from sacrificing your rest for a few revelations isn’t worth the long-term ramifications of your health.” He bluntly discloses.

Silence fills the room once more, but something odd seems to have mingled with the serenity of the air. This strange inclusion prompts Alhaitham to finally turn away from the pages, connecting his gaze with yours.

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” He studies your expression, and rather than furrowed brows, he finds a soft roundness to your eyes.

Him staring at you, you staring at him. A scene that continued for a few beats more before you were the first to break the stalemate.

“No, not at all… it’s just very reminiscent of something I’ve heard before…” You turn away as his gaze follows.

A few slow strides take you back to the corner, figure just about to disappear into the shadows engulfing the halls before you abruptly turn around.

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight.” He mirrors.

Alhaitham marks today as another successful trail of correcting a bad routine.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Adequate amounts of sunlight, regular meals, and coffee grounds mysteriously find themselves placed on the highest shelf in the cabinets. All the factors were in place to regulate a disastrous sleep schedule.

Yet when Alhaitham checks your device activity, the data points remain scattered about the twilight hours of the morning. A true paradox.

Amongst the Summer afternoon rays seeping in through the windows, Alhaitham was tasked with tidying up the kitchen. An obscure cabinet in a corner was the last section before he could deem the request complete.

There wasn’t anything in particular about the cabinet, it’s space housing an assortment of various vitamins. That was until his hand brushed against a plastic container which didn’t conform to the typical shape of vitamin bottles.

Grasping it within his hand, he pulls the irregular bottle out from the murky depths of a cabinet and out into the sunlight where its identity unravels: a prescription bottle.

Barbiturates sedatives, colloquially referred to as sleeping pills, are used in treatments for insomnia.

It looks like Alhaitham has stumbled upon the answer to the paradox printed on the faded label of a neglected bottle.

Frankly, this revelation wasn’t all that surprising. He had long suspected it from the symptoms and behaviors you display daily. But it’s always good to support a hypothesis with evidence.

Studying the container in his hand further, his gaze narrows as it hones in a corner of the label. In particular, the date printed along it. This bottle expired two years ago.

It’s recommended that every civilian visits the Bimarstan annually for a checkup, in a nation where healthcare is free and accessible, this typically isn’t an issue.

Once more, you stood alone as a data point outside of the cluster.

Stepping into the living room, he finds you tinkering with the network router again. A few more steps and then he was by your side.

“When was your last medical check-up?” Cycling through his memory, Alhaitham failed to recall the last time you had a medical assessment.

Your body halts momentarily, before glancing up at his beryl eyes.

“I’m relatively healthy, there’s no reason for an assessment.”

“The Department of Health recommends annual checkups at the very least.”

“I don’t need to go to the Bimarstan,” you declare.

A weight pulled down at the corners of his lips, creating what is called a frown. An expression he observed many times upon your lips whenever you label him as ‘stubborn’. He might finally grasp why you do such a thing.

Stubbornness isn’t such a good trait when you’re on the other side of it. Fortunately, he anticipated this.

“In accordance with the law, you do.” The contents of the plastic bottle rattle as he reveals it, drawing your gaze toward it.

“The regulation behind your prescription requires that all expired medication be brought back to the Bimarstan for proper disposal.” Denunciation behind his glass irises.

Lips pressing into a thin line, you advert your eyes back to the blinking router in front of you. Each second of silence announces your defeat.

Human actions are limited by a set of laws and they must operate within the bounds, not too different from restrictions imposed on machines.

The consequences looming just a step away discourage most mortals from crossing the threshold.

“I’ll schedule an appointment for noon next week, making use of your saved paid time off is recommended, does that work?” He prompts.

“Alright.”

A weight is alleviated from his lips, triggering the corners to curl upwards. A common response to the accomplishment of a challenge, he understands now why a mortal body does it.

Perhaps a doctor's visit has been long overdue, foggy recollections of if the curtains were shut the night before and if a bag of coffee was accidentally misplaced. Poor memory is one of the repercussions of sleep deprivation, you’re aware of this fact.

Healthcare in Sumeru is highly accredited for its accessibility and quality, the Bimarstan being the standard many hospitals around Teyvat strive to be. To have such a thing so accessible to you, it’s baffling to many how you failed to utilize such privilege.

You had your reasons.

Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates. A few vaguely familiar faces from across a lecture hall of some general course.

Faces you’ve passed slumped over textbooks and piles of notes in the late hours of the House of Daena, their dark circles matching yours.

Faces that graduated alongside you as celebratory cheers rang out with caps littering the air.

It’d be strange to meet someone you attended the Akademiya with once again in an examination room.

After their years of medical school and surviving residency, you’re certain they’re more than qualified at their jobs. However, it doesn’t change the course of averted eyes and superficial pleasantries.

You breathe out a deep sigh as the receptionist calls out for you, informing you that you could head down to a private room.

Leaving your seat in the waiting room, you do as the receptionist instructs, exiting the lively environment into a placid hallway. The receptionist’s face didn’t evoke any familiarity, nor did the doctor’s name listed on your appointment.

Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates, but not all.

Candidly, there’s only one classmate who you’d avert paths with within this establishment. In a hospital as large as the Bimarstan, the average number of staff ranges from around 5,000.

The odds of encountering a particular face out of a pool of thousands is nonzero.

A polite knock draws you from your thoughts, your eyes travel toward the door of the private room you entered not too long ago as the handle slowly turns. Thick oak swinging ajar to reveal the figure on the other side.

“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Rana, I’ll be taking care of you today.”

You return her greeting with a courteous smile and nod, statistics in your favor, the odds were nonzero but still a minuscule likelihood.

The checkup was rather uneventful, a few questions were asked as she pulled up your medical records. You pulled out the expired medication for her to examine and deal with.

Vitals checked and documented as the appointment drew to a close, a notepad and pen in her hands as she turned to you.

“Overall your health seems fine, although…” she trails off.

You could feel the weight of her stare upon the discoloration ever-present under your eyes, no layer of concealer to cover them. You could already guess her next sentence.

“Would you like a refill of your prescription?”

“No, it’s fine.” It’d just be another bottle to be neglected in the back of a cabinet.

“I see…” This time her eyes move back and forth between your sitting figure and a clock hanging in its place on a wall.

“I… have to process some paperwork, could you wait here for a few minutes?” A polite smile graced her lips.

“Of course.” You mimic her actions.

A day requested off to account for a drawn-out appointment, to account for a scenario like this his foresight analysis is making great progress.

You should take note of that once you return home, a daily log still needs to be updated to track consistent progress after all. It’s technically your day off, but you’re free to decide what to do with it.

As you pondered a checklist to complete once you got in front of your desk the door creaks open.

“Oh? That was fast, Dr. Rana-” The sentence dying upon the tip of your tongue as your lips press into a firm line.

The odds of encountering one familiar face out of a pool of thousands is a small nonzero number, however, if that number was increased to three faces out of those thousands, the chances increase.

How unfortunate, even with such small odds, you managed to come face-to-face with the three people you wanted to avoid the most.

They file into the room and the last one closes the door behind himself as your eyes scan over them. Starting with the ebony-haired man in the center, Tighnari, a doctor at the Bimarstan. It makes sense for a doctor to be in a hospital on this fine day, but not for a lawyer, or an architect.

Four former classmates gathered in an examination room, how strange.

Still, you’ve grown enough to adapt to such peculiar situations. Practiced corporate smiles and pleasantries to navigate this stagnant air.

“Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, it’s a surprise to see you all here. It’s been a while.”

“A while is a bit of an understatement…” Kaveh is the first of the trio to converse, offering you a small smile.

You return it with one that didn’t reach your eyes. The rhythmic ticks of a clock fill the silence, shifting eyes anticipating and preparing for the next phase of this impromptu reunion. The doctor finally decides to speak up.

“You haven’t been sleeping enough, have you.” Tighnari examining your under eyes.

“I never sleep enough, you know that.” Of course you never slept enough.

How could you sleep when the threat of falling behind the geniuses sitting around a library table was always looming over you? Geniuses who easily grasp the concepts and theories that elude you. How could you lay in bed when you had to catch up to them?

“So, why this sudden get-together?” Impatience rising inside you with each passing tick of the clock.

Dropping the formalities and social pleasantries, you watch as another round of shifting eyes passes. You already had an inkling of the answer they’re still hesitating to address. Finally, your former Kshahrewar senior responds for the group.

“We’re worried about you, you haven’t been in contact for a while now.” Kaveh’s voice was low and mellow, you could tell he took extra effort in marking it such.

The same low and mellow tone he’d speak to you with as he tried to explain your mistakes on an exam, the tone which accompanied the pity in his gaze toward you as he pointed out each miscalculation on your paper. The tone made you ball your fist up on your lap.

“I’m fine, just busy.”

“Please don’t start with that again.” The blond sighs, sympathy still ever-present in his eyes.

“I’m just busy with work, as are all of you, we’re no longer students with minimal responsibilities,” you retort.

The days when a group of friends could gather around a table for hours on end, half bantering and half studying, basking in the Spring warmth streaming in from the grand windows of the House of Daena have long passed.

“We all have busy careers, that’s true, but not to the extent of being a detriment to our health.” With a sigh, Tighnari began his health lecture.

Expounding upon the negative consequences of a poor work-life balance. Shifting your focus instead on tuning out this lecture you didn’t sign up for.

“You stopped listening… of course,” a deep sigh concludes the doctor’s sermon.

Ah, you’ve been found out. The polite smile straining itself upon your lips, legs itching to walk out of this restrictive space.

“Here, it’s a contact of mine, I recommend you give her a call-”

“It’s fine.” You promptly push away the business card just as Tighnari presents it to you, a thread of patience stretched thinly.

“She can help you through-” he continues.

“It’s fine, my research is just busy-”

“This isn’t healthy.”

“It’s my research.” A sharp undertone leaks through your professional demeanor.

“And this is why we’re worried about you!” Kaveh’s patience was the first snap.

Then again, your senior might have been the light of Kshahrewar and a praised genius, but he was never the best at handling his emotional regulation.

“Look around, don’t you see how concerned we are about you? No returned texts or calls and no answers at a doorbell for years, only ever talking about this research. It’s as if you-” he stops himself, rudy eyes meeting with your cold stare.

He knew better than to finish that sentence, you knew that he knew he shouldn’t.

“We’re worried about you, this research… it’s not good for you.” Tighnari interjects, attempting to shift the course of this intervention.

Of course, when the development of an android was announced, there wasn’t just discourse amongst the general public, but debates raged throughout academia as well. How unfortunate it is that friends now stand at polar ends.

“It’s my research,” you reaffirm.

This research was why you got your doctorate, it’s why you have a job, it’s why you have a house. This research has entangled itself into the very fibers of your life. It was where a predetermined path had led you.

The room fills once more with a lull, nothing but deep sighs and ever-shifting eyes. Neither side is able to get through to the other. Typical of most academic debates. Still, it seems they weren’t ready to end the intervention so soon.

“Listen… we’re worried for you, I… I know it’s been very difficult these past years.” Your senior takes a step closer.

That same sympathetic timbre brings a vile taste to your tongue. You stay silent in favor of pushing the bitterness down as it tries to claw its way through your polite façade.

“I… know what it must have been like for you, It’s been hard on all of us. I’ve experienced something similar, so I can tell you-”

“I’m sorry, Kaveh. But tragedies shouldn’t be compared, because they’ll never have a fair comparison.” You end the conversation.

Just like how it isn’t fair to compare stars who were their own centers of gravity with a mere rock at the mercy of an orbital pull to give it direction.

Even when you sat at the same table as them, you were never at the same level as them. Families with academic prestige, minds blessed with wisdom, and the freedom to pursue a self-chosen path. You could only ever look up at what you lacked.

“Your worlds kept on spinning, your lives move on with the change of the season. But not mine, mine stopped long ago.” It’s not fair to compare a rock to a star, from their silence, you assume they knew that too.

“I’m now taking the initiative to make it start again, don’t interfere.” Your valediction to the geniuses whom you couldn’t live up to.

It’s just the nature of this world, geniuses walked their own paths while others took another. Geniuses can’t understand those others, just as others can’t understand geniuses.

This doctor’s appointment has gone on for long enough. Gathering your belongings, you stride past them, eyes refusing to meet.

Your hand pried open the door, pausing just at the threshold as Cyno finally breaks his silence.

“Is this truly what you want? To defy the edicts of finality with research?”

Ah, what an inquiry. Perhaps it’s just like a lawyer to ask such a thing.

“Is my research in violation of any laws in Sumeru?” You refuse to meet his scarlet condemnation.

“As of now, no.”

“Then I don’t see how this involves you, there’s no place for personal biases and mortals in the judicial system.” Crossing the threshold, the door creaks close behind you as hurried steps echo through the sterile hall.

This was a mistake, you should’ve never come here. Your body was fine, your vitals are fine, you’re fine. There wasn’t a point in wasting time here, you needed to leave this place filled with faces offering you condolences. Exiting the narrow hall back into the dim murmurs that fill the waiting room, the last thread of patience starts to splinter.

From the muddled chatter, a bright shrill rang above them all. Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source. Even in a sea of passing faces and colors, it didn’t take you long to find it.

A young girl grins a smile with a few gaps as she stretches her arms out to her sides, mimicking an airplane. A young father helpless to his daughter’s giggles, hands secured around her legs as he lets her soar on his shoulders. Next to his side was a giggling mother, watching with amusement and endearment.

A private moment hidden amongst the waiting room, you look away. You should return to the private walls of your house before that thread inevitably breaks. Sliding glass doors part to grant you exit from this suffocating cage.

Like a speck of dust drifting in the breeze, you disappear into the bustling crowd of Sumeru City. The push and pull of strangers further you along your route, even as your mind drifts off.

With modern advancements in aerospace engineering, the chances of a plane crashing have decreased significantly, with recent statistics citing only 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

How long ago since the last time you’ve been inside an airport? What were your last memories of an airport? Do you remember?

–----

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” Your mother’s thumb traced over your hand.

“It’s a bit too late for me to pack, we’re already at the airport, Mom.”

“Don’t you want to visit Fontaine? Didn’t you say they had really advanced things there?” She didn’t let go of your hand.

“I’m busy with my thesis.” You were still in the midst of getting a Ph.D., the very thing they demanded of you.

“But I planned this trip so we could spend time together.” Your mother tried to get you to meet her gaze.

You adverted your eyes. So this is how they spent their recent financial flexibility. With a scholarship and research-assistant salary, you had enough to cover the tuition by yourself, relieving your parents of that burden. But to get that scholarship and salary, you had to pay with your time.

“I’m busy, mom.” You freed your hand from her grasp.

“But-”

“Stop it dear, she’s not going to change her mind.” Your father’s gruff voice stopped your mother.

“There’s no point in trying to change the mind of an ungrateful child.”

You felt the weight of his disappointed stare upon you, a frown formed on your lips as they pressed together. This was a sudden trip announced to you just a few days prior, you didn’t have time to accompany them. But they didn’t seem to care.

Of course they didn’t. Your parents only ever saw the grades, the diplomas, the results. But they never bothered to see the anguish you endured to give it to them.

“Enjoy your trip.” Words barely passed your clenched teeth as you turned around and walked away.

An ungrateful planet ignored the calls from their mother in their first successful act of defiance. Trying to break away from their gravitational pull.

–----

That was your last memory of the airport.

Those were the last memories two parents had of their child.

The child they sacrificed their time, labor, and freedom to build a better life for. Your parent’s last memories were that of an ungrateful child, maybe it was the last scene they thought of as a plane was swallowed by the salty depths.

Humans, defined by their curiosity, will always yearn to reach as high as they can. Tales warning those to never fly too close to the ever-bright star ignored in the pursuit of radiant curiosity. Your parents were no different.

They ever had the chance to travel, too busy trying to provide food in front of you. So when the burdening weight was lifted, naturally they wanted to stretch their wings to see the views they never got to in their youth. They always wanted to touch the sky, to reach for the moon.

There’s a proverb often told to young minds: ‘Shoot for the moon, even if you fall, you can still land on a star’.

This saying is riddled with inaccuracies. The stars are much further away than the serene moon. Beckoning the curious eyes to look at them, for curious hands to yearn for them.

But once the glue on those wings are melted away by selfish rays, what is there to catch them besides the cold unfeeling ocean? Did they sink from the memories of an ungrateful child weighing on them?

You should’ve been on that plane.

The familiar features of your neighborhood come into view, the doors of your house are just ahead. Just hold on, don’t let that thread snap just yet, just a few more steps.

Tighnari had his father and mother working right alongside him at the Bimarstan.

Cyno had regular visits to his adoptive father, and sometimes his adoptive sister Lisa visits too.

Kaveh had reconnected with his mother overseas, now having a few younger half-siblings who jump to greet him every time he visits.

Lives still spinning and warm in the light of their brilliance. What do you have?

A job in a career picked out for you. Paychecks rotting in a bank account with no one to pay back. A spacious and hallow house with no one to reside in its empty walls, only displaying a doctorate you loathed.

A stray rock who lost her stars. Wandering without their gravitational pull in the vacuum of a lonely darkness. Just what do you have?

“Alhaitham,” you call out just as the front door slams behind you.

You could hear his steady steps approaching along the wooden floor, but it’s too slow so your frenzied steps close in the distance between your two forms. The thread gives in and snapping as the recoil proliferates through your body.

Without a greeting, no prompt, or prior warning your grasp wrinkles his once pristine button-down.

The bitter tears you held back now soak into the fabric as even viler cries choke your voice. The shame of displaying such a sight in front of a being whose eyes don’t produce moisture is long abandoned. In the walls of this hallow house, your broken sobs echo off.

He stands still in the middle of the hall, the low hum of his motor resonating in your ears as you hide your face deeper into the synthetic skin of his chest. But that’s fine, the whir of motor is enough of a substitute for a heartbeat.

Alhaitham stands in front of the reflection staring back at him, he had undocked himself from the charging port not too long ago. Tracing over the synthetic material stretched over his imitation of a collarbone as his mind wanders.

There aren’t enough chemicals in tears to make them corrosive, nor were they at the temperature to boil.

So why does it burn?

Trailing his fingertips where your tears soaked onto his skin, recollections of the searing sensation that afflicted the area with each sorrowful drop. Choking sobs which he caused.

He failed to consider all causal factors to assess the situation fully and failed to appraise all possible alternatives. He failed to make the right decision, and he let harm befall you because of it. It’s strange, there’s nothing wrong with his eyes, yet he finds it hard to look in the mirror.

Teal gaze scrutinizes the arms, legs, and body in the reflection. The reflection in front of him had all the identifiable components of a man, but they’re all synthetic.

From the tips of his sliver hair to the vast expanse of his skin, they’re all made from high-quality silicon parts supported by a metal frame. An engineered body with a motor in place of a heart.

Maybe that’s why he failed to make the right decision, he had no heart to weigh in on the ruling.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The android is faced with a new dilemma.

From the entrance of the kitchen, Alhaitham watches you. A spoon absentmindedly swirling in the cup of coffee on the counter in front of you. Your thoughts wander elsewhere, the rays of a setting sun unable to light up dull spaced-out eyes.

He’s observed your condition for the past week, no hint of improvement.

A new dilemma he must decipher, the urgency rising with each passing second as the spoon continues.

The lull of the evening air was shattered by the sound of a porcelain cup meeting the tiled floor. Jagged pieces and coffee spilled all along the cold surface. Listlessly your eyes move to access the mess on the floor, spoon still grasped in your hand.

“Ah.” That was all your lips could say.

Limbs slowed with lethargy, you crouch down closer to the broken pieces scattered about. Bare hand reaching out to grab the sharp edges unthinkingly. A firm grasp prevents your touch from the ragged porcelain.

“It’s dangerous, I’ll handle it.” Alhaitham brings your hand further away from the hazard.

Your aloof eyes trail past him toward a wall where he could hear a clock tick before they returned to his resolute stare.

“It’s past 5 p.m.”

“A hazard has appeared in the environment, it’s protocol that I clear it.” His rehearsed response.

“Oh… alright.” Limplessness returning to your wrist within his hold, body too lethargic to object.

With you seated at the kitchen table away from the jagged edges that could potentially pierce your skin, Alhaitham begins gathering the pieces. As your aloof eyes wander about the monitor of your laptop, his mind ponders a dilemma.

It’s often said that guilt is held in the heart. In novels and human anecdotes, it's been described to him as a burdensome heaviness that sinks the heart.

A sensation reminiscent of drowning in icy water. A sensation only perceivable through a beating mortal heart.

Alhaitham is an android, he’s aware of this. A being with silicon skin encasing a metal frame. A motor in place of where a mortal heart would be.

So what is this weight burdening his chest?

An internal diagnostic returned no errors and no reports of any damage or unusual occurrence within his systems. Yet, a heaviness brewed deep inside his chest, its mass increasing each sunrise and fall, with every passing moment the riddle was left unanswered.

How could a motor hold guilt? How could the weight of judgment manifest itself in the absence of an organic heart that beats instead of whirs? How could an inorganic object possibly suffer guilt?

All the mora poured into his creation, all the hours of research contributed to his algorithms, and all the texts he’s scanned through were all for naught. The pinnacle of scientific and mechanical development couldn’t solve a simple conundrum.

The floorboard creaks under the weight of his steady strides as he moves about the corridor, the soft swishes of a broom coinciding with each step.

Dust had begun to settle in the crevices of the home, it’s about time that he took up the mantle that was supposed to be his.

Could an explanation of this weight be the backlog of tasks and responsibilities he had pushed off? Chores he ignored in favor of browsing the contents of a library? A burden he selfishly passed onto your shoulders.

Maybe after he completes the tasks that were supposed to be assigned to him he could clear the cache, then this weight in his chest would subside.

The bristles of the broom scratch against a door, the light force setting the frame ajar further. Revealing the dust-coated scene in front of him. A boundary he was restricted from.

Alhaitham concluded that this small corner of the house must hold some sentimental value to you, thus it’s best for him to not disturb it.

Just as he goes to close the door, Alhaitham scans around the environment identifying the shape of a journal tucked away under an old table.

He’s not permitted to enter, but all books belong in the library. Spines sorted along wooden selves, not on a dusty floor.

An exception shall be granted, setting aside the broom, he steps in to collect the neglected book.

While crouching down and gathering the covers into his hold, a different gleam catches his eye. The light reflects off its glass surface and highlights the dust particles dancing in the still air.

With his free hand, he picks it up, teal eyes running along the glass orb. After a moment of processing the object, he successfully identifies it as a toy.

A popular model to display an artificial starry night among blank walls. Alhaitham turns to follow a trail of cut-out stars pasted all along the walls. The soft glow of their plastic shapes subdued by the brilliance of the afternoon sun streaming in.

Were you interested in stars? Glancing out the window, he discerns the murky shapes of buildings in Sumeru City off in the distance.

This house is located in the suburbs away from the noisy clammer of the city streets and traffic. However, where the sound waves couldn’t travel didn’t mean the sky around this quiet neighborhood was uncontaminated by activities in the city.

When the sun retreats away for rest, the city doesn’t follow suit.

Through the power of fluorescent lights in street lamps and office buildings, humans created their own artificial daylight to continue the bustle of their lives. Light which polluted the night sky and stole the radiance away from her stars.

Unable to enjoy the natural tapestry of the night, did you substitute the company of stars with toy imitations?

Turning the orb in his hand, his eyes notice the signs of damage along the projector. Perhaps that’s why it sat abandoned in this room.

He’s stayed in this restricted space long enough. Carefully closing the door behind him, hands still full.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ve uncovered a strange object, my software isn’t able to identify it.” Alhaitham stands just outside the open office door.

Sparing him a glance away from your monitor, your brows pinched together in confusion at his sudden report during the late hours of the night.

“A strange object?” You inquire again.

“Yes, I’ve scanned over it a few times but no results are returning.”

“Huh…”

Teals watching you press a finger against your pursed lips in concentration. A habit of yours often displayed when amid contemplation. After a few breaths, your eyes meet his as you give your reply.

“Well, where is this object?”

“Come with me.”

Along the wooden floor, two pairs of steps tap rhythmically in time with one another as they traverse the hallway stopping at the living room where the mysterious object resides.

Approaching the coffee table in the center, Alhaitham steps to the side to present it as it sits upon the polished surface.

“This… is what’s been giving your software issues?” The quirk returned to your brow as you cast him a glance.

Alhaitham simply nobs as you approach the object closer. Kneeling beside it, your eyes examine the familiar device.

“It’s a planetarium projector, it projects the scene of a night sky, in other words: just a toy.”

He hums in acknowledgment, carefully treading toward the light switch in the corner as the toy holds the gaze of your eyes.

“It should be thrown away… It’s broken after all.” Your tone dismissive, yet your hand caresses the broken toy with tenderness.

“It’s not,” he replies.

Perking your head up, you turn to face him with that same furrow between your brows.

“What do you mean, Alhaitham-”

He flicks the switch, plunging the room in a blanket of darkness earning a squeak of surprise from you. The device whirs as it awakens, painting the blank tapestry with a scene of the night sky with its shimmering lights.

The vibrant shapes of stars and planets take their place along the living room wall, creating a private galaxy that surrounds you.

Your sentence remains unfinished upon your tongue as your eyes take in the display encompassing you. The nostalgic glimmer of the night and her stars twinkle in the reflection of your irises as he settles down beside you.

“Did… did you fix it?”

He hums in response.

It only took a bit of study and careful tinkering to restore the worn pieces and gears. A simple effort was all it took to allow the projector to shine its recreation of the stars. Returning a light that he hasn’t seen in a while.

“Thank you, Alhaitham,” you breathe out, lips curling up softly and eyes still enraptured by the stars.

He doesn’t respond this time as his teal gaze focuses on your expression, on the smile that’s been missing for some time. It’s strange, this sensation manifesting in his chest. He thought if he was able to restore the light to your eyes, then that heaviness brewed deep inside his chest would clear. But it remained.

His system unable to express nor suppress the heaviness which bubbled up like seafoam rising to the surface.

The sensation was different than it was before. Instead of a mass that weighed him down to the bottom of a cold depth, it was more reminiscent of a warm ebb. Washing over every limb of his as he studied the curvature of your lips and the glimmer of your eyes.

Another internal diagnostic wasn’t necessary, for Alhaitham had reached his epiphany to a conundrum. An engineered body may lack a heart, but not a conscious.

A consciousness that acts like a vessel collecting the accumulation of that heaviness. A heaviness that couldn’t be called ‘guilt’.

No, perhaps it has always been something other than ‘guilt’.

It only took until the vessel overflowed for an engineered body to recognize it for what it truly was.

There’s something strange happening to your Android. Reviewing the diagnostic reports of his systems returned nothing out of the ordinary. So why did you suspect something to be wrong? Perhaps you could call it intuition.

Or perhaps it’s the lack of books strewn about the house. Or the initiation of tasks without a prompt. Or that night a living room was filled with the radiance of tiny dots along empty walls. Something strange is happening.

“Alhaitham, what’s taking you so long in the kitchen?” You poke your head out from the kitchen doorway, sights honing in on your android currently scrutinizing the recipe book in his hands.

Perhaps there’s a defect in the print, if the black ink isn’t contrasting enough with the beige paper, which time has faded, it does cause issues with optical character recognition. Maybe the past splatters of sauces and oils upon the aged book were too much of a hurdle.

“Chef Mao is a renowned cook, but his recipes are vague. He suggests a pinch of salt to enhance the flavor of this dish. I’ve calculated that Chef Mao has a 19.3 cm hand length which entails that his ‘pinches’ measure around 0.356 grams. However, he said to add Jueyun Chili oil until fragrant, I’m still processing the data I’ve collected on his olfactory system, the calculations will take around five minutes.” He turns back to the stove.

“Alhaitham.”

“Yes?”

“Please put down the book and get out of the kitchen.” A bold choice of words from you.

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” His teal eyes land on you.

“It’s just that I’m hungry.”

“This dish should be complete in around 90 minutes accounting for the other-”

“No,” you interrupt.

He studies you for a while, accessing the situation and the unfinished dish still simmering on the stove. After a few breaths, he returns a response.

“Shall I order delivery from Lambad’s Tavern?” His hand switches off the fire.

He conceded. The notoriously stubborn and fickle android conceded to your whims. There was definitely something wrong. You pace into the kitchen, getting close to observe his teal irises for any sign of possible flaws.

“Alhaitham, you’ve been behaving strangely as of late, did you encounter something?”

He returns your gaze, teal reflecting off your irises as you continue to study him, and him you. His silence only amounts to the deepening furrow between your brows as your assessment of his frame fails to identify any impairments.

“Why have you been behaving like this?” You prompt again.

“Have I neglected my responsibilities for so long that fulfilling them has become a cause for concern?” He finally responds.

“Now’s not the time for jests,” you huff.

“From what I’ve reviewed on human behavior, it’s not strange to want to care for the person I love.” A blunt statement.

From the window, the moonlight peeks upon the strange phenomenon occurring. Two bodies remain motionless in a silent lull.

One pair of placate teal eyes and one pair of bewildered eyes too lost in each other to mind the witness intruding on this private moment. Words finally conquer in your brain, ending the quietude.

“Refrain from saying nonsensical words.” Your lips press together into a thin line.

“Do you believe such a thing is beyond my capabilities?”

You couldn’t respond, or more accurately, you simply didn’t know how to. A being without a heart, a being who lacked the necessary chemicals to create the cocktail known as emotions. How is it possible?

“I have no heart, I’m aware. But I have a conscience.” He must’ve deduced the exact thoughts racing through your head.

Your brows only furrow further as you wait for him to continue his explanation.

“Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.” Taking note of the glistening shine beginning to pool in your wide eyes.

“And I believe that I love you.” His sincere gaze never leaves your form.

Not a single sentence is able to form upon your tongue. An expression he couldn’t decipher upon your features. Perhaps his statement was too long-winded, an overly complicated explanation. Maybe a simpler one could convey his message better.

You’re the first to break eye contact, choosing to watch the tiles on the floor over him. He remains firm in his stance, not faltering once as the seconds turn into minutes. Your shoulders rise as your lungs take a deep breath.

“… say that again… please.” Words just barely above a whisper.

He could only bend to your whims.

“I love you.”

Your head lifts up to face him, your hands hesitating momentarily as they cup his cool cheeks, fingers trembling. Something glimmering in your eyes as droplets escape your lashes.

This time, Alhaitham wipes them away before they could trail down your cheeks.

You did it. All those long hours, all those reports and trials, all of these years sacrificed to research. You’ve created a complete human consciousness with your bare hands. One that understands sorrow, joy, and love.

You succeeded.

However, in this moment as you peer into the teal eyes of your Magnum opus, as he reflects the endearment in your own. The notion of reporting this revolutionary milestone in the development of artificial intelligence never crossed your mind once.

Instead, all you did in this moment was pull his face down closer. Closing the distance between the two of you as your lips felt his for the first time. Warm skin against a soft imitation, merging until a lukewarm temperature formed between their touch.

A gentle, yet longing connection of two lips.

Only when your lungs protest for air did you pull away, hands still encompassing his face as he reveals his teal eyes back from behind closed lids. Eyes reflecting one another as a tender lull settles between you. This time, his whisper mingles with the soft intermission.

“Was that a kiss?”

Such an innocent question, one you couldn’t help but giggle at as you nod your head.

“Could you show me again?” His hands found purchase on your hips, beckoning you closer to his frame.

You surrender to the call, pressing against him as your lips reconnect. A rhythm soon settled in place as they pressed into each other deeper. One that was interrupted once more by your lung's protest for oxygen. At a mere kiss, your mind ceased to remember how to breathe.

“Again.” A baritone voice just above the hush of your pants.

And so your lips meet thrice, this time in an all-consuming embrace. A hesitant brush of a tongue against your lips, requesting access. Your hands move up to caress his soft locks as you grant it. Latching onto each other as the shroud consumed you both wholly.

A beautifully feverish delirium. The line in the sand that separated a person from a thing jumbled until the outline disappeared. A singularity, an amorous occurrence.

He releases your lips, the lust in your eyes reflected in his own. Giving a moment for your mind to return to attention as his lips brush away the fading traces of wetness down your cheeks.

“A kitchen isn’t a suitable setting for such an activity,” he whispers next to your ear.

Baritone trailing a line of goosebumps up your neck and you nod in response, burying your face into the crook of his neck which fit you perfectly.

Slowly his hands travel down your hips, awaiting your confirmation for the next step just as you permitted it. In one fluid transition, his arm wraps around the back of your legs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground as your arms envelop his neck.

Steady steps pad along a wooden hallway, the hinges of your bedroom singing their welcome as the two of you advance to a more suitable setting. Depositing you upon cool sheets, fabric wrinkling as your body settles in. The arms still wrapped around his neck pull him closer as this time your legs join in luring him closer to your warmth.

It’s strange, is it possible for his lips to crave yours? The light of the moon reflected off the glossiness coating them. He delves back in as his body hovers over yours, unwilling to be apart from the softness it yearned for.

The soft flesh of your writhing body against his firm hands, feeling up your heated skin he slips under your shirt. Bunching up the fabric as he explores more of the new expanse of skin. A lovely whimper vibrates against his lips at his actions, spurring him to continue.

Tracing over the outline of your bra, his fingers creep under. Kneading the plushness of your breast, feeling your nipple beginning to perk up against his ministration. An itch stretching from the pits of his desire, a curious craving to witness the sight concealed away.

Disjoining your lips as a string of saliva connects them, he pushes your shirt further up. All the while your hands grasp onto the edges of the fabric and push them back down. Bemusing his beryl eyes as they catch how the tips of your ears were aflame, a peculiar display of bashfulness.

Well, a sight he’s witnessed on a few occasions. Such as when you’d leave the shower wrapped in a towel just to cross paths with him. A timidity that gradually faded away as you grew more confident in the privacy restrictions in place, ensuring that the secrets of this home remained in the confines of its walls.

So why is this shyness making its reappearance now?

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” His words ghost over the shell of your vulnerable ear.

Causing you to jolt and pull down the edges of your shirt to cover the bottom of your loungewear shorts.

“No, it’s just been a while…” Your sentence trails off, eyes still focusing everywhere but him.

Ah, a mere string of words, yet they tempted something from the depths. An oppressive sentiment, one that made the grip upon your soft flesh grow firmer. He’s yet to have accessed the entirety of your figure, a view still denied to him by your taut shirt, but another entity had.

There was a myriad of questions he could use to interrogate. However, as his teal gaze observe how your teeth lightly tug at the bottom of your plush lips in fidgety. Alhaitham devises a much kinder scheme.

It’s fine, he can overwrite them with his touches.

“What can I do to gain permission?” A question asked as a line of kisses press their way into your fervent skin, goosebumps following each one.

Biting down to muffle the bashful moans into whimpers you burrow your face into the plushness of the pillow. Alhaitham continues to soothe kisses over the fabric of your shirt until they finally reach your quivering hands still stretching the hem.

His hand encloses one of yours, bringing it away from the fabric refuge to press his lips against your knuckle. An action that made you peak back at him, meeting a patient gaze awaiting you.

Another soft press of his lips against your knuckle in silent request, at last, got you to release the hem, allowing him to push the fabric up to expose what was hidden from him. Permitting him to explore the sultry expanses with a wake of kisses, your hand finding reprieve entangling themselves with his.

His free hand slipping behind your back, he unfastens the clasp of your bra with a slight tug, a relatively simple task when you learn how such a contraption works.

His grasp untangles from yours as he pushes the useless articles of clothing off your body, you raise your arms over your head to aid in the process.

He rewards you with another flurry of kisses in the valley of your breast as his large hands encase the softness of your breast. A motion that made your legs pull him closer.

Your touches dance along his frame as well, unable to differentiate the difference between skin and a recreation. More whimpers leave your lips at his actions, prodding something in him to do more. To steal more of those sinful breaths from you, something in his coding thirsting for more.

Sliding his hands back down the curves of your body, he hooks his fingers over the rim of your shorts and panties pulling them down. Glass eyes zeroing in on the glistening thread that linked your panties and slit. Proof of arousal, your body awakening its cardinal impulses.

Could the signals transmitted through his system be classified in the same way?

He wants to investigate further. Moving his face lower to inspect the saturated folds that beckoned him.

Only to be denied by the gates of your knees pressing together, as your body curls up in fortification. Denying him the privilege of satiating his curiosity is like denying a man water in an ocean of sand. Evaluating how your eyes were squeezed together in shame, he had foresaw this.

“Mmm, there seems to be an incongruity, do you want me to stop?” Large hands grasping at your plush thighs, but making no move to part them.

Your head responds with a shake, but your knees still locked together. Your attention centering on him bashfully.

“Then guide me, tell me how to please you,” he proposes hands soothing your tense legs.

Utilizing the skill he had accessed a few moments ago once more, gracing your skin with his lips awaiting your response. The tension in your legs loosens with each kiss, and gradually a fissure forms in the barrier of your defense, knees parting.

However, he doesn’t cross the threshold, no, he restrained himself from indulging too soon. Half-ladden eyes peering up to connect with yours.

“Well, tell me. What do you want me to do?”

A pout makes its appearance on your face, but what could you do? It is your responsibility to shepherd him since the beginning, to have him step over the line dividing an android and man. Best to take on your duty, no?

Parting your legs further, cheeks ablaze and eyes adverted as you allow his teal gaze to absorb the uninterrupted view of your dripping arousal. Your hands aiding as they thwart the urge of your bashful legs’s urge to preserve your dignity.

“Please use your mouth and hands,” you prompt, face pressing deeper into one side of a pillow under his stare.

Alhaitham encroaches closer to your glistening folds, his large hands supporting each one of your thighs. Approaching the details of your honeypot in front of him, concentrating on the little nub which lures him closer. He presses a light peck against the nub as your body flinches.

“Like this?”

Plush lips pressed tightly, you respond with timid shakes.

Returning back, his lips delving deeper this time, an audible pop when he pulls away from your taunted clit. Feeling the muscles tighten in your legs.

“Like that?” Mirth leaked through his baritone words.

Your head shakes with more vigor.

“Then how about this?” This time his tongue takes action, dipping into the center of your honeypot before flicking up at your nub.

You return a restrained moan, teal eyes picking up on the twitch of your folds. It seems that he’s uncovered the proper procedures. Peering up from between your legs at the harsh rises of your chest by rush breaths as your eyes remained sealed behind lashes, he decided to impart some mercy. Taking the initiative to shoulder a bit of your duty.

Retracing his steps, his tongue repeating its previous motions of lapping up the nectar that slipped out from your folds. Always ending each strip up your slit with a flick to your sensitive nub.

Your hands abandon their post in favor of snaring themselves in his ashen trestles as your back begins to arch off the sheets. Thighs beginning to enclose around his head, yet it didn’t deter the vigor in his motions one bit.

If anything, it spurred them on. The added pressure of your legs pulling him against your weeping folds assisted him in his quest. Testing which pattern made your body quiver, calculating the pace of his tongue's flicks made your hips buck up.

Alhaitham takes notice of how your greedy hole seems to be clenching down every time a tongue dipped in, you did request for his mouth and fingers after all.

A finger begins to prod at your entrance, coating itself in the overflowing slick as it traces the puckering entry. Your whines increase in volume as your greed escalates, legs locking around him. Thus, he yields to your neediness, filling your lonely walls with the company of his finger.

Thrusting it in time with his licks as he rubs against the slick muscles. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers grounding themselves in the tangles of his hair as if trying to hold on to a shred of reason.

His interest has been greatly piqued, he wanted to see what it would look like. He wants to see what your expression looks like when you fall into the depths of debauchery. You’d permit him such privileges right? After all, curiosity is what defines the human spirit.

A second finger soon joins in, its thickness stretching and prepping your walls, cultivating your arousal into a rapacious hunger.

Articulate tongue now focused on abusing your clit in the swipes of sweet torture, lips encasing around it to provide some suction. Fingers honing in on relocating the weakness deep within you which made your voice peak and tremble.

He could hear the harshness of your panting breath between each escalating moan, how your walls squeezed and sucked his fingers deeper. Teal gaze never once ceased their evaluation of your face. Making sure to appraise each lewd detail of your impending ecstasy.

It’s impossible to stand at the apex of euphoria forever, no, for gravity will always pull you back down. A pivotal moment in time as the forces tugged down at you as you fell, losing your shame and sanity along the way.

A fall from grace which etches itself in the roll of your eye and vulgar expression, caused by the tempest of pleasure seeps into every fiber of your being as you plummeted down into the ocean of rapture.

The fingers intertwined in his hair pulling his face flushed against your pulsing cunt. Even with your mind fractured by orgasmic bliss your body still reacts to each lap of his tongue as he manages the slick aftermath. Fingers stroking your sweet spot through each contraction of your walls.

“Nng!” A feeble push against his ashen locks, your abused clit crying for a moment of reprieve.

Oh? It seems your consciousness returned faster than he expected. With a resounding pop, he grants your overstimulated nerves a moment to recover. Allowing the traces of your nectar to dribble down his chin. Taking this moment to verify the effectiveness of his scheme.

The air dense with the fragrance of lust, lips red from the abuse of your teeth, mouth agape as your lungs gasp tongue almost lulling out.

An absolutely debauched face, a sight which brought the corners of his lips to curl.

Counting the beads of sweat that lingered on your skin, his rationale urged him to swipe them off to prevent a chill from plaguing you. Withdrawing away from your form he plans his destination to the bath to retrieve a towel, only for a smaller hand to snag him in its hold.

Alhaitham turns back to face you, awaiting your next prompt. However, your bitten lips couldn’t muster up the courage to utter the plea it so desperately wanted. Thus, your eyes connect with his, praying that a slow blink could convey the invocation your voice couldn’t.

Standing there as a few breaths pass, the teal glow of his irises indicates his deduction of what your eyes conveyed. Ah yes, the passionate entanglement experience just a moment before could be classified as ‘foreplay’. The appetizer to the main event.

So your appetite has yet to be satiated, evident from how your thighs pressed against each other in an attempt to quell the ache. How could he leave a task undone?

“Show me what you desire,” he instructs.

Hesitantly, your hands encroach closer to the rim of his slacks. Your every action observed by him. Resting your palms against the outline of a zipper, you glance up to seek confirmation, he grants it.

You undo the button at the top before pulling the zipper down. Allowing for you to shimmy his briefs and slacks down to the floor. Revealing to the world, with the moon as your witness, every intricate detail placed into his engineered body.

It felt so foreign in your hands. Encircling your fingers around his girth, tracing over the bumps of each vein. Amid your admiration, his body overtook yours. Pinning you back against the damp sheets. It seems you were very interested in this feature of his, perhaps it was the cure for the yearning between your writhing legs.

Your legs splayed to either side of his hips, a clear path to your greed. His hand spreads your collected slick along his length. Its bulbous tip presses against your quivering entrance. Meeting your half-lidden eyes, he awaits your permission. Thus, you captured his lips into another kiss, just as the tip breaches the threshold of your entrance.

Finally giving your aching walls the delicious stretch it craved. A moan resonates between connected lips, your eyes beginning to roll back as he sinks deeper and deeper, obscene squelches following each inch.

Thick tip pressed up against the deepest parts of you as he bottoms out, your hands finding refuge along his back. Breaking the lock of your lips, Alhaitham lifts cants his head up to take in the scene under him.

Hovering over your panting form, his body caging you against the wrinkled fabric, feeling your unseemly breaths against his skin. A teal glow reflected in the lust-hazed pools of your eyes.

He understands now, why so many poets lost their minds, trying their whole lives to find the words to chronicle the sight laid out before him along messy sheets.

Under his tense study, your fingers lightly claw at the smooth expanse of his back. A soundless prayer to quell the famine, your gummy walls coaxing around his cock with its embrace.

“Haitham,” you mewl.

Not even the greatest saint could deny your request, he wagers they’d gladly walk through the gates of damnation just for a morsel of you.

Rolling his hips back, he drags his girth along the walls of your greed ensuring that they feel the outline of every vein. Feeling the cool air brush against the slick dripping off his length, only the bulbous tip remained in the clutches of your cunt.

A muffled whine of protest from you interrupted as he sunk back in, accompanied by a filthy squelch.

Robust hands encompass the edges of your waist, he repeats the roll of his hips. Feeling the tightening clutches of your core, croons falling off your tongue with each toing and froing.

What symphonies could he draw from those agape lips of yours?

He wants to witness the sinful hymns of your voice as you are overtaken by the throes of pleasure. Perhaps he should conduct an experiment of his own. Through the raunchy air, a clap pierces the leaden veil, your plush hips pressed flush against his anchored ones, a thrust that seared your nerves and curled your toes.

“Ah!” Moan ripped from your throat.

Yes, that’s the amplitude he wants to discern with his ears.

Continue to sing in that octave. It’s as if pulled by the reins of sin, he finds himself experiencing hunger for the first time, fixating on tearing more of those chants from you. He drew back his hips then forced them back in deeper. A wail followed each rake of his cock, walls accenting each thrust with fluttering clenches. Mewls and whines resonated through the room as his firm grip didn’t slacken with each rock of the bed.

Pace escalating and remorseless, skin clashing against skin, the heat of your writhing body scorching him. But he won’t relent, not until he’s taken what he wanted. Driving you deeper into the creaking mattress, thrusting and filling each crevice of your core. Your soft breast pinned against his solid frame.

Your face pressed into the crook of his neck, legs imprisoned within the confines of his bruising grasp, toes painfully arched in an attempt to distribute the burn of the maddening euphoria firing through each nerve. The moans of his name like a prayer of salvation, a chant for every punishing strike against your deepest weakness. Your fingers now clawing against his durable back for a foothold for your fleeing sanity. You feared that this time, it might not return to you.

Oddly, a voice from the rearmost corner of your mind whispered for you to relinquish it. Trade in rationale, sensibility, and morals for absolute ecstasy. Your teeth had already sunk into the apple, its juices dribbling down the corners of your mouth. Why not swallow it down? Get drunk off the wet claps of skin, the grind of his muscular torso against your stimulated clit, the slams of his girthy cock and thick tip. Why deny yourself from the euphoria robbed from you for so long?

So you concede to its beckoning, swallowing down the last wisp of sanity until it drowned in the maddening abuse of your sweet spot from his pistoning hips. Granting you entry to true pleasure as the knot in your core unravels. Backing arching off the mattress, mending the fibers of your being impossibly close to his. Head thrown back against a ruffled pillow as a long shameless wail erupts from your trembling lips. Lost in the tides of rapture.

Alhaitham’s body stills as his ears digest the beautiful aria of your undoing. Feeling your slick and warm walls contract all around his cock. Milking him for every last speck of gratification he could offer you.

A moment couldn’t be classified as a simple impulse for procreation. No, he believed it went beyond the lust hanging in the air. An indescribable urge to mend your bodies as close as possible, to becoming wholly one with one another. The thump of your heartbeat against the whir of a motor as they merge into a mantra.

Is this why humans crave physical intimacy?

Watching your loose face tremor and your teary eyes roll back. A painting no muse besides you could ever inspire. Leaning down, his lips brush away the glistening trails down your supple cheeks. Coaxing you through the throes of your orgasmic shudders. Until the light of consciousness returns to your half-lidden eyes.

The limitations of the human body expose themselves in the limpness of your limbs, unable muscles unable to budge besides the twitching aftershocks of bliss. Unable to fight against the weight of your eyelids for the first time in a while. You sink into the lull of slumber.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere amid the driftless darkness a sensation brushes against your skin. Causing your lashes to pry open just ever so slightly, blurry shapes merging gradually to form the outline of a man. One who’s tendering wiping a soft towel over the sweat drops littering your skin. The soft glow of his emerald gem illuminated the devotion of his crafted face. You wonder where he learned about such practices after the rite of sex. Did he pull it from the Akasha? The internet? Or maybe from a book hidden along the shelves of a private library.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle roused from your musing. Alerting him as his hands halt.

“Did I wake you?” Baritone voice hushed.

Face still pressed into a pillow you shake your head, hair messy and a smile spreading across your soft features.

“Just musing to myself where you learned such things,” you giggle.

“This is typical behavior of lovers from my understanding.” Teal gaze observed the widening of your eyes which reflected him.

Perhaps he made too great of an assumption. Back in the margins of a kitchen, it was only his words. It’s best to get clarification now.

“Are we lovers?” He peers into your irises.

The glow of the gem embedded in his chest spreads its gentle radiance over two figures through the unbuttoned window of his wrinkled button-down. Carving the shape of you and him from the shadows of the silent room. Illuminating how your wide eyes crinkle up with adoration. Fighting against the fatigue of your limbs, you lean up to press your lips against the brilliance of his gem. After the amorous kiss ended, you proceeded to lean your forehead against his.

“You’re my lover, Alhaitham.” Your whisper ghosts over his face.

“Understood.” His foreheads pressing against yours as he accepts his new sentience.

The shape of your delicate fingers fitting into the space between his, intertwining as the moonlight reflects off gold and emerald.

The sky shrouds itself in its evening gown of deep navy and luminous glimmers, all the while a bashful moon covers herself away. Perhaps she hid herself away after she witnessed a sinful scene through a gap in the curtains. A private moment heavy with passion in the air like tender caresses.

“W-wait!” Stammering words just barely leaving your lips before another moan.

Alhaitham pulls his tongue away as he tilts his face to peer up from between your thighs, a trail of slickness connecting his lips and your pussy. The haze of your breathless expression reflected in teal irises.

“I-it’s t-too ah!-” A moan interrupts your protests as your head jolts back, his thumb continuing to circle your swollen clit.

“Much? I know you can take more,” he states before returning his lips to your dripping folds, lapping up each trickle.

He’s analyzed your body, its curves and cervices, each clench of your slick walls, and the pattern of your gasps. Skilled fingers learning the exact rhythm which made your legs tense and toes curl. Diligent tongue knowing where to tease to run shivers up your spine.

“B-but I’ve already c-came!” Your fingers tangle themselves into his tousled locks, a feeble attempt at pushing back the maddening flicks of his tongue and cruel strokes of his thumb that shot up your fried nerves. Report long forgotten under the haze of lust and lewd slurps imbuing the room.

And you can come again. Alhaitham has long picked up on the discrepancy between the words which fell from the same lips as those lewd sounds. Lips who couldn’t be as honest as your heaving and trembling body. Whining and writhing in his firm hold that it’s too much, yet your fingers entangle themselves deep in silver tresses pulling his impatient tongue deeper between your folds.

From the shivers racking through your trembling thighs, he anticipates another orgasm. However, the unholy cries have ceased. Intent eyes glancing up to uncover the causal factor, those naughty plush lips of yours pressing themselves shut. Crueling sealing away those ethereal harmonies from him.

Alas, just a small inconvenience doesn’t deter him. If those lips were the only barrier barring him from the privilege of hearing his deserved moans, then he’d simply make them crumble. Replacing his thumb with his lips, Alhaitham suckles on the swollen nub as your body jerks up.

Grip imprinting his fingers into your skin as they stop your pitiful attempts at locking out from heaven. The heaving of your chest jostling around your perked breast as they meet the cool night air.

His tongue teases and rolls your overstimulated clit around as his lips imprison it, a sweet torture. Your thrashes unable to prevent your head from going under the depths of pleasure. Thighs compressing around his face as they grow taut, hips bucking themselves against his relentless mouth, back lifting off the mattress as your final defenses crumble along with your sanity.

Limpness seeps into your now heavy limbs as your body returns to the mattress, but your eyes haven’t quite returned from seeing the back of your head. Still in the throes of cloud nine as his diligent tongue collects all your leaking nectar. The aftershocks of your orgasm force gasps and whimpers from your quivering lips.

To comfort your abused clit he places a tender kiss against it, a flinch in your hip resulting from the gesture. Alhaitham pulls away, eyes scanning the repercussions of his operation. Your chest steadily rises and falls as panting lungs find air again.

The rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin gradually disappears behind your drooping eyelids. Lashes slowly fluttering closed.

Glancing at the numbers displayed on a nearby clock, Alhaitham deems tonight a success as well. While the primary purpose of intercourse might be for reproduction, sex has additional benefits. One of them being an orgasm’s ability to decrease stress, resulting in the production of more melatonin. The chemical that’s making you burrow further in your pillow. A tactic he’s learned to exploit these past months. Well, he’s your lover now, it’s within his authorization to do such.

Carefully he slides your panties back up your legs, securing them on your hips as he trails a few touches along your soft skin. Following it up by pulling the covers over your frame, smoothing out a few wrinkles as your chest steadily moves up and down.

Just as he steps one foot away from the bed, a warmth encircles his wrist.

“Aren’t you coming to bed too?”

An artificial body needs no downtime under soft covers. Plush pillows and sheets serve no purpose to him. Yet, it’s a simple request. How could he reject it when it came from your pouting lips?

“In a moment, I need to return to my port first.”

The throes of slumber’s hold creeping upon you as your lashes fight to flutter open. With a soft hum, you release your hold.

His battery percentage was fine, but it was just for system maintenance. It’s strange how unfamiliar a room can feel after spending his nights by your side. Staring at the glass surface of his charging port, he wonders, in the future will there be a way for him to not leave your side even for a moment?

His dilemma remains. He’s got all the characteristics of a human. He’s developed a consciousness, he’s developed empathy, he’s developed love. Is his engineer body the only thing which stood in his way of obtaining humanity?

Is it possible for him to grasp onto humanity with his own mechanical fingers? A soft thud returns him to reality. Observant eyes caught the book that his foot had knocked into. Its worn cover has been lying abandoned on the floor ever since he took it from a dusty room.

Ah, it seems like he’s forgotten a task. Realistically, it won’t make a difference whether the book settles on a shelf tonight or in the morning. However, he never got a chance to read the journal’s contents. Curiosity being his rationale for performing a chore so late at night.

Flipping through the aged parchment, his eyes scan through each neatly written paragraph. Nothing more than a simple collection of ramblings and theoretical reflections typical of a journal.

Yet, something was poking the back of his consciousness, like the warning rattle of a locked door. Beseeching that it remains sealed. His eyes move to the next sentence regardless.

To ignore the pleas of safety to venture closer to the radiance of a star. Isn’t that what it means to be human? Is this what he must do to become one?

To achieve this impossible task, it sounds like you'll need to fool your own heart first. Although it may feel like a trick, self-encouragement may be the most important tool we have.

Alhaitham scans the paragraph again as he contemplates the message neatly written. Something unpleasant roused in his chest, as if those written words had encroached too close to his motor. The urge to frown tugs on his lips.

Not wanting to end the night with a bitter taste just at the edge of his tongue, he flips to another page. Covering that vexatious sentence behind a fresh sheet of aged parchment.

One must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.

It’s quite straightforward advice, humans and androids alike would understand. Yet that strange inkling remained, continuing to brew somewhere from within. A phenomenon he couldn’t pinpoint. Thus, he turns the page yet again.

Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.

He recognizes those words, they’re words he’s recited before you one pivotal sometime ago. Why were they scrawled in some forgotten journal? It seems that he’s identified the name of this phenomenon brewing within him: deja vu.

Yet, his question only remains half-answered. Why were his words here? Who penned them down? The rapid flicks of paper resound off the blank walls as he scrutinizes each sentence, each paragraph, each syntax until he reaches the back cover of the aged journal. Question still remaining half answered.

Who was the author of his words?

His finger runs into a lump along the surface of the back cover, examining it closer, something was folded away just behind a parchment pocket. Soon a loose scrap of paper was felt along his fingertips, a folded-up post-it note of an emerald hue. Unraveling it just slightly, his eyes move along the familiar handwriting.

To the person who’s always meddling through my notes, did my written thoughts entertain you? Dear w-

The emerald scrap crumples in his hold. Deformed paper returns to its place before he snaps the covers closed. There’s no purpose in analyzing its contents, after all, they’re already programmed into him.

It was just now in this moment that Alhaitham had solved the dilemma he was assigned since the moment he awoke in that lab. He’s not a human, he’ll never be a human, he’s an abomination.

In the next moment, he found himself looming over the origin of his dilemma. Artificial teal glow honing in upon the steady breaths from the genesis of abomination. Standing over you as you were cradled in the comfort of slumber and soft sheets.

A pair of taut hands make their way to encircle your frangible neck. It wouldn’t take much, just a mere second to terminate the great sinner who defied mortality, the one who violated the terms of finality and ordinance of the gods.

So this is what you choose to do with the capacity of science and progress in your hands.

Was he just a toy for you? Something to fill the lull of this house for you? Just an experiment for you, but everything to him.

His fingers press into your warm skin, breaths uninterrupted as you remain within the blessing of a dream. Oblivious to the nightmare you’ve created. Or perhaps you were always aware, but choose to reflect back to him the manufactured image of him in those guiltless irises of yours.

Oh, what should he do with the monster sleeping so soundly under him?

His fingers refused to budge, hands disobeying the rationale which commanded them. His grip goes slack, limp for they couldn’t conclude their obligation. They couldn’t, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

It’s not a protocol, nor a restriction coded into him. No, for the laws of morality, this land, and heaven would’ve called for him to be an executioner. To charge the transgressor with the judgment they deserved. But, he couldn’t.

Every fiber of his counterfeit body refused to take the sword. The chains which bind his hands were much mightier than the commandments of gods, the restraints of love.

Thus, he’s nothing more than a prisoner in its hold. Bending to its whims, what else could he do? Removing his hands from your form as you continue to soundly sigh in the embrace of slumber. All he could do was lie down on a soft mattress and stare at the shameless sinner beside him.

A foolishly beloved monster.

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely steps. Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view.

“There you are, Alhaitham.” You can’t help but sigh as your features soften.

He stood there with his starlight locks in the morning glow of a brilliant sun amongst the collection of books in the library. Just as he always has been.

Lifting his head away from the pages of the novel in his hand, he acknowledges your presence. He’s been heading here more often recently, right from the moment he leaves his side of the bed.

“Good morning,” he recites, steadfast eyes remaining unreadable.

Well, you suppose obtaining the title of a lover wouldn’t just overwrite the capriciousness of his mind. It’s just in his nature to be this way. This enigmatic lover of yours. Turning your attention to the cover that’s captured his focus.

“Frankenstein?” Your brow quirks up.

“Yes, the 1818 edition.” He closes the cover.

“Mmm, your interest seems quite piqued by that novel.” You wonder if that was the cause behind his frequent bouts of silent contemplation throughout the day.

“I suppose it’s because I’m still deciphering the intentions of this story.”

“That’s it?” A furrow now in your brows, a simple book has gotten the pinnacle of scientific progress stumped?

“Care to elaborate for me?” He turns toward you as your steps approach closer.

Handing over the worn object to your outstretched hand, you analyze each faded corner of the cover. Mind recalling the recollections of the acclaimed revolutionary piece of science fiction. Formulating your answer, you share your conclusions with him.

“The story has several themes, but the central principle is quite defined. To quote a few words from another, scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for man’s power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened.”

You reconnect your gaze with him, wondering if your explanation was satisfactory enough. Glancing down between the worn cover and your awaiting eyes, Alhaitham straightens his posture.

“So you knew the moral of this story.” A glint in his glass eyes.

“Well, I’ve read this book before,” you sigh at his inquest.

“Then why didn’t you learn from it?”

At that moment, the proud sun shielded itself away behind a cloak of clouds. Plunging the quiet library into a chill. How strange, why do you feel cold when a brilliant star of your creation stands right next to you?

“Alhaitham, you’re acting strange.” You take a step back as his scrutinizing gaze follows. Unaware of the crumbling edge approaching.

“How much longer will you continue to deceive yourself, wife?”

And that was it. The foundations of this mirage gave away under you, plunging you with much velocity into the depths of an unforgiving ocean. Tides that waited patiently to drag you down under.

Do you remember what happened that day? Do you really remember? The truth floods your being, engulfing every chasm of your mind.

–----

“Did you jump at the opportunity of a trip to avoid mopping the floors?” You glared up at your husband.

“My, how low do you think of me?” He glanced down, a wisp of mirth evident on his lips.

“Well, instead of doing chores, you’d be chaperoning your in-laws around Fontaine. A Poor trade-off in my opinion, dear husband.” A hand firmly placed on your hip in a defiant stance as the murmur of the crowded airport moved around your figures. An ever so mocking tone toward the end.

“A fair assumption, dear wife. However, I’ve taken the initiative to book a tour for your parents, thus they won’t need my assistance. I’ll be free to browse some of the latest ruins and research from the Institute in the meantime.” The ghost of a smirk grew ever so obvious with each word, mirroring your emphasis of titles.

Ah, this was your loss. It seems that your husband had it all planned out as usual when he offered to take your spot on the plane. The perfect excuse to use up some paid time off, while also scoring a trip to satisfy his own whims.

Your shoulders deflating in defeat as a deep sigh leaves you. You rest your head against his chest, the crowds moving around you in the bustling airport.

A private microcosm of him and you as he stands still, shielding you from the push and hustle of travelers trying to reach their terminal in time with his robust frame.

A bright clink of two rings pressed against each other lost in the noise.

“Why can’t you just stay?” You whispered into his shirt.

“How strange, the woman who married me to secure a home and mortgage wants me to stay now.”

You huffed into his in exasperation at him bringing up the origins of your union, an atypical start of a marriage.

His chest moved with a sigh, larger fingers intertwined with yours. The spaces fitted together, as he held them in his tender hold.

“They can’t refund it. If I take your seat and recompensate them, your parents aren’t likely to hold this matter over your head.” His deep voice expounded.

All you did was sigh, because he was right. Of course, he was. A sour taste on your tongue as you recall the interaction with your parents just a moment ago before you ran into the comfort of your husband.

“Besides, it’d be refreshing for me to scribble down some travel logs, it'd be a shame if my wife runs out of material to snoop through.”

“I just like looking at your handwriting,” you tutted, hiding your pout as you turned your face away.

The same excuse you used whenever you copied off his notes in a lecture hall and when your outstretched hand asked for them over a study table.

A silly habit of yours, perhaps in your mind it made sense. If you could read the words of a genius, then maybe you could learn to be like one.

“Of course, of course.” A smirk evident in his voice.

You refused to meet his gaze, cheeks a bit heated from this habit of yours being exposed. You thought you were always careful with returning his journal back where he placed it. Averting your eyes to the bright screens displaying departing flights. A few minutes left before the announcement comes. Your grasp on his hand tightened.

His thumb soothes your skin, leaning down closer to you.

“Besides its advanced technology, Fontaine is also famous for its toymakers. I should pick a few up for our future child, no?”

Blinking you as you glance back up at him. His teal irises reflect you as his expression softens just as yours did.

A room hidden away from the prying eye of nosy parents, its walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. An assortment of items bought in advance for a child in the future. Stemming from whispers while recovering amongst dampen sheets in a room heavy with passion.

Talks of the future, once this troublesome Ph.D. is finished and your position in a lab secured, a discussion of whether a child would inherit more of his traits or yours.

Planned for the future, of course, now's just a bit too busy. However, it didn’t stop you from taking the initiative to furnish a spare room. A chaotic collection of cosmic influences along with an assortment of books meshing together to create an adoring space.

But the soft smile on your lips was still tense. Teal eyes took note of that, pulling you closer amidst this microcosm, a moment so subtle it went unnoticed by the attention of passer-byers.

“It’ll just be for a week,” his voice resonated in his chest. “Then I’ll come back and build that bassinet as my wife wishes.”

Finally, the glimmer he yearned to see returned to your eyes.

“You better, the box has been sitting unopened for a week now,” you huff with a smile.

He only hummed in acknowledgment as the ring of a loudspeaker resounded through the chatter. Announcing the final call for passengers boarding the flight to the Nation of Hydro. Casting a glance toward the terminal, he gave your hand one more squeeze before they reluctantly untangled from one another.

“You should get going now.” Your eyes reflect him.

He hums one last time, turning in the direction of the terminal where your parents were. Just before his tall figure was lost in the sea of passing bodies, your lips couldn’t keep themselves pressed together any longer.

“Haitham!” You called out.

The fluorescent lights reflected off his starlight hair as he turned back around. Connect teal eyes with yours. But not another word left your lips, no they’d simply be drowned out in the clammer of strangers. Besides, it’s just too public to say such words aloud.

Thus, you slowly close your eyes, opening them back up just as steadily with the soft curl of your lips. A motion he reciprocated with a slow blink of his own, a hint of a smile on his stoic lips. A wordless gesture kept a secret between only the two of you, a silent ‘I love you’. It was all you needed to convey this message to each other.

He continued on his path to the terminal as you stood amongst the crowd, watching him fade into the distance.

–----

So how did that moment turn into this? How did a trip that was supposed to only be a week turn into a news report? How did well wishes for a safe trip turn into coworkers and friends approaching you with nothing but sympathy in their words? Those vile, pitied stares directed toward your rigid frame.

You should’ve been the one on that plane.

Only about 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

Plans no matter how intricate or detailed, their success all hang on a single thread, one factor unable to be cultivated by human hands: Luck.

Oh how cruel they are, those capricious hands of gods. Not even the leniency of returning to a lonely planet the corpses of their stars. Traces of a beloved star left to sink and disappear in a cold, salty grave. Never to return to the surface.

You and Alhaitham were two simple dots in this world, so why did they target you two? Why steal him from you with their cruel hands? Why steal him and leave you abandoned with nothing but the memory of the warm starlight?

You had so…so much love left inside you. But it went stagnant. Sitting there rotting until it poisoned you, throwing you into feverish delirium. If the gods abandoned you, then you resolved to abandon them right back.

You’ll bring back your star, you’ll defy the edicts of the gods with your bare hands. You’ll sin the same way a god does.

“Casting aside your morals, you allowed the dead to walk again through a sham imitation, congratulations. ” His voice matched one which could only come from an engineered throat.

This was a fool's errand.

For how could a mere human ever be arrogant enough to believe they could best the gods? This was the hindsight you lacked. Perhaps what’s separated you from the gifted and blessed geniuses? Something geniuses knew but you couldn’t see.

The accursed doctorate on the wall meant nothing, you were nothing but a mad fool.

Perhaps, if you were a genius, a true and born genius, you’d know what to do. You’d know how to mend this dilemma. You’d know what to do instead of letting your vision be blurred by imprudent tears as your throat could only choke out,

“I’m sorry.” Words you knew couldn’t turn back the hands of a clock which only knew how to tick forward.

“But now what?” Deep voice unmoved by your wasted words.

You didn’t dare meet his stare, for you feared you’d catch a glimpse of the bitterness behind them as he cursed you deep down in the whir of his motor. You could only stay silent as tears ignited in your eyes, waiting for him to continue with his damnation.

“In a climate like Sumeru’s, it would take approximately 25 years or so for a body to fully decompose, bones reduced to nothing but nutrients for the soil. Silicone alone takes 500 years, a metal frame could take another 500.” He knows now that he’s not a human, he was never meant to be.

He’s a crude replacement. An abomination who’ll remain until the day the night sky flickers out.

“You brought him back, only to condemn him to eventual loneliness. Only to curse ‘me’ to live the next aeons without you”

An irresponsible and shameless villain who disregarded consequences until those consequences came to collect their dues. It’s time that you faced your punishment.

A hand cups around your stiff face, gradually turning your head until you see your reflection along glass irises.

“How will you atone for your sins now? How will you take responsibility for making me fall in love with you?… my very own Dr. Frankenstein.” His voice restrained.

Yes, a story you’ve read before. A lesson unfolded out in front of you, and yet you somehow forgot. Or perhaps, you simply averted your eyes from the moral of the story while simultaneously committing the same transgression. Did you think yourself better than the fictional lunatic?

The atrocity of giving life, only to eventually abandon it, leaving it to watch the stars burn out in a cage of harsh fluorescent lights and white lab coats.

The millions of mora poured into his development, the materials which construct his form, and the proprietary technology which gives him thought. Did you believe even for a moment that the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan would simply hand over such an investment?

To allow their expenditure to follow you to eternity?

You couldn’t live without him, but now he’ll have to live without you.

Oh, what shall you do now? Oh, what can you do now? Did you even know where to begin? How did the story of Frankenstein end? How would she have written the ending of this scene?

When human rational meets its limits, when its capacity isn’t enough to compute all possible prospects. Humans look towards something that could, technological advancements made to further humanity.

“W-what do I do now?” You prompt, no, you beg.

Watching the rivulets roll down your cheeks, leaving a path of glimmering desperation, he ponders to himself:

When you first proposed this project to the Akademiya and Institute, when you detailed the specifications of his body and face, were they aware of your true intentions?

Rather than this being an experiment to see if an android could cross the threshold of humanity. Maybe those researchers were curious to see how far one could fall in the paroxysm of grief.

You became the perfect test subject to observe.

But now that the curtains were pulled back, what shall you do about the aftermath? There was never a precedent for a transgression of this scale. No holy commandment ever details a rightful punishment for this sin. No historical data he could infer from.

“I don’t know,” he answers you truthfully.

It’s just an untold void like the vacuums of space. No results generated in his mind, leaving the both of you suspended in oblivion. Maybe that was the punishment in itself, stuck in the purgatory of the unknown. Perhaps this was the punishment bestowed upon a foolish sinner.

Upon hearing your sentencing, your knees begin to buckle under the weight of the judgment from above. Resigned grasp clinging to his hand still cradling your face, his engineered frame not budging in the slightest. Voice staggered as only pitiful and broken apologies resonate in a vacant house.

All he could do was wipe those scorching droplets off your cheeks as they seared his skin. Was this feature also programmed into him by your hands? If so, then he muses to himself:

Did the hands who penned down those words also revert into nothing more than a pathetic fool at the mere sight of your tears? Did his chest also grow heavier with each choked sob that left you?

Perhaps the chains which bind his hands tethered yours just the same. A pair of foolish sinners.

Thus, he’s resolved himself to be thrown into the unmerciful clutches of this untold purgatory right alongside you. Even if he’s the only one to remain in the end.

To be human is to be unthignkably foolish after all. As long as he could still hold onto a wisp of you for the inevitable aeons.

It’s fine.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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pedgito · 3 months

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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader

summary | A poor damsel in distress, saved by the most unlikely of man.

author's note | this was written for @studioghibelli's beautiful fic challenge. i've never written anything this close to a royal-ish type era, if you could even call it that. but this is just a slight dip into that realm and it was super fun! thank you for hosting this, bell! idk if any of this is accurate i'm just vibing dsjhk

content warning | 18+ smut, princess!reader, mentioned to have hair long enough to be tied back, regency au, age gap, wealth/power dynamic, mentions of past marriage/death, BREEDING KINK, talks of marriage and pregnancy, secret relationship, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v

word count —1.8k

“If he catches us, we’ll both be dead.”

It was a constant mantra Joel spoke to you, even as he unfastened your corset and slipped under the thick fabric of your dress, disappearing as he fit his face between your thighs.

It started out of innocence—a strange man with growing, constant visits to your manor at the edge of town. At first it was only on official business, a supplier of goods to your father. Joel was a jack of all trades: armor, leatherwork, anything you could think of, he’d mastered it. It was just another method of proof on how good he was with his hands.

“You need not worry,” You breath, pressed against the wall of his cobblestone home, often sneaking out in the middle of night with the possible threat of capture prevalent in your mind.

The estate had always been heavily guarded, but living there your entire life had made it easier to learn patterns, behaviors, and sneaking out to see him over time had become effortless. It had been months by now—and even as his friendship with your father grew, there were no signs, not an ounce of suspicion of what he blossomed between you both.

“He offered me a job,” Joel speaks lowly, muffled under the fabric of your dress as your leg hooks over his shoulder, fingers wrapped around the top of your bodice as you squeeze, feeling your breath catch in your throat as he licks through the center of your cunt, “well paying, convenient enough.”

You gasp softly, lifting at your skirt to get your hands on him, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling, earning a soft grunt as he peeks up at you, pulling away for a brief moment.

“What was it?”

“Royal guard—and no princess, not for him.”

“As if I don’t already have enough men guarding me,” You sigh, pushing him away and adjusting your dress—he looks slightly dejected, but stands and fixes your dress, caressing your cheek with his hand, “you cannot say yes, Joel. If you are near—”

“I know,” He murmurs, there’s a shift in his dialect that is so distinctly different from your own—years of being taught to speak up, out, to project with your voice and always act as if you were speaking to the masses, thoughtful contrition to a group much lower than yourself, “bein’ around you that often, don’t know how I could keep my hands off of you.”

If your father knew about this—you and him, a man nearly the age of your own father. He’d be ordered to death and you, while the fate may be different, wouldn’t be left with much freedom either. You were long of age, but bound to your duties as a princess and fearful of the man your father would eventually decide to marry you off to. Joel had saved you, distracted you from all of it. It would be impossible to live without him now.

“I sound ungrateful,” You grumble, looking down and grasping his other hand with yours, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to your chest but not before you press a gentle kiss against the back of his palm, “for what I have—but if I lose you…”

That place was a prison and you knew it. He knew it.

“A golden cage is still a cage,” Joel reminds you, “—that place, your father—”

You already knew—your father was slowly spiraling out of control, the rule of his country slipping from his grasp and he was scrambling and you knew he wouldn’t go down without a fight. But, you were tired. So tired. With the absence of your mother, your other siblings, you felt trapped.

“Take me away,” You beg, eyes watering as the words slipped from your lips, “we can disappear—I do not need this wealth or title, any of it. Only you.”

“He won’t stop,” Joel tells you honestly, “we would always be running.”

You pull your hand free of his grasp and curve them around his face, cradling the softness of his jaw, the scratch of his facial hair under your fingertips and he licks at his bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of the burgeoning lust. He needed you.

“Is that really what you want?”

He means it—it was a tone you’ve never heard before.

And something tells you he’s been feeling the same way for a while.

“Yes,” You answer quickly, nodding jerkily as you pull him close and Joel has to physically restrain himself from taking you there, licking his lips once more as they hover near your own, “please, Joel.”

“Let’s have this night,” Joel tells you softly, “and we can figure everything out come morning.”

—

It was peaceful here, a small cottage out in the middle of nowhere—if you wanted to stay here you could, but you knew that would be the first place your father would look outside of town.

Joel, his confidante, his most trusted man who was now under you, fingers digging into your thigh as you took his cock inside of you, his hand guiding at the base as he breathed out into the quiet room, the low crackle of the fire at his bedside.

“If you could see yourself,” Joel says absently, watching as you pull the tightly woven ribbon from your hair, breasts stretching up with the movement until it fell from its intricately laced cage, bouncing lightly with your playful movement, a smile peeking from your lips, “such a vision, princess.”

“I am no princess,” You argue gently, palms pressing into his chest as you lift your hips, leisurely and slow, enjoying the tight pull of his brow every time your ass meets his hips, “I was not made for that life, Joel.”

“Made for me,” He assures, his warm tone spreading throughout your core and pulling you in, the hands place on your thighs moving up your hips, squeezing into the flesh of your waist as his mouth drops open, silently urging you to change your pace, “perfectly crafted, all I’ve ever needed.”

You snort softly at his words—he was always a poet, whether stumbling through his words or bringing you to your knees with a compliment that would be on your mind for days, echoing in your head as you dipped your fingers inside of you on the days you went without him.

“Would you marry me?” You ask suddenly, though you feel the answer before he says it.

“Without hesitation,” He responds, “I can propose—right now, if you want.”

“Such a romantic,” You chide, the words falling on a gasp as he flips you both suddenly, shoving you into the old mattress as the bed creaks with the weight and intensity of his thrusts, the rest of your words caught in your throat as he pulls your legs up and over his back, hands resting firmly beside your head, a true vision himself.

“If it would make you happy, I would,” He admits, “all I care about is having you, being with you—titles, all of that, it doesn’t mean much to me but if that is something that would make you happy—”

“What do—” Joel switches his position suddenly, an arm tucking under your leg as he pulls it over his shoulder and leans up to meet your cunt with his thrust, watching his cock as you swallowed him up, his hand falling over the base of your pelvis and pressing down, feeding into the pressure of his cock and the all-consuming feeling of him, “christ—what is it—that you want?”

“You,” He answers immediately, “and…”

He pauses, thinking carefully on his words.

You know little of his past other than his wife and daughter who had fallen ill, losing them when he had been away on business, unbeknownst and coming home to the sight of it. He was a broken, brittle man and you were the only thing holding him together.

“I would give you a son,” You tell him, “a daughter—as many kids as you wished, Joel. Is that what you want?”

“A family,” He smiles fondly, “with you?”

“I fear you would—oh—never escape me then,” You joke playfully, eyes squeezing shut as he snaps forward roughly, his thumb dragging over your clit fleetingly as your hands dig and twist in the bedsheets, “what a handful I would have with a small version of you.”

He chuckles softly, snaking his hand under your waist and pulling at your arm until you get the idea to wrap them around his neck, adjusting you up and into his lap, carefully examining his face under the soft glow of the fire, his lip quivering as you drag your thumb over his mouth.

“I want it,” You plead, “don’t—don’t pull away.”

“You’ve given me so much,” He mumbles into your cheek as you pull him closer, hugging him to your chest as he wraps himself around you, grunting as he reached closer and closer to his own end, “and you've been trapped your entire life, I don’t want you to feel that way with me.”

“And I would give you so much more,” You breath into his mouth, “picture it—barefoot, pregnant with your child in a home far away from here, our new life—”

“Baby,” He begs, his fingertips squeezing roughly into your flesh and you gasp, your cunt pulsing around him with the roughness of his movements, pussy throbbing at his fervent intensity at your words, “I love you.”

You nod, tucking his face into your neck as he hands slips between your bodies, dragging over your clit without you needing to ask, knowing he was just that in tune with your bodily cues, the hitch in your voice as you echo the words back to him.

“Come inside of me,” It wasn’t an order, more of a plea, but you mean it, “I want to be yours.”

Forever, you think. But, the words are cut off by a sharp, jerky snap of Joel’s hips as he comes inside of you, his teeth dragging over your shoulder as he groans into your skin, simultaneously working his thumb over your sensitive clit, feeling your clench and spasms around him as you come with a soft sigh, fingers twisting into his hair and your body curling around him like a python, squeezing him so tight it knocks the air out of him.

“Do you have everything you need?” Joel asks after a few minutes, gentle touches over your skin, pulling his face back to look at you. “Before we leave at sunrise?”

“I have you,” You assure him, “that is all I need.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #my writing #studioghibelliswritingchallenge

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

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Set The World On Fire

Chapter Fourteen

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Warnings: Stalking

Mafia AU

1.5K

Series Masterlist

"Happy birthday, Stinky."

Lando opened his eyes and let out a groan. It was far too early. He closed his eyes and placed his head back against the pillow.

A hand was in his hair, brushing through his curls. "Oh, you're so cute," she mumbled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Lacing her fingers through his own, she tried to pull him up. "C'mon, birthday boy. I made breakfast."

The promise of food was what coaxed him out of bed. As he stood, she threw a pair of pants at him, covering up his nakedness.

The moment she opened the bedroom door, the smell hit him. It was so damn sweet. Pancakes, waffles, French toast. It was a kids dream. "Holy fuck," he said as he walked into the kitchen. "Baby, what time did you get up?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't matter," she said as she turned back to the stove, where more was cooking. Holy shit, he was gonna be double his body weight by the time his birthday was over.

Lando strode over to her. He wordlessly wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "You didn't have to do all of this, baby," he whispered against her skin.

There was a moment of hesitation before she answered him. "I... this isn't like your normal birthdays, I'm sure. I still wanted to make it special."

He kissed her shoulder again. "You already have."

There was no hiding the smile she wore as she placed the newest batch of pancakes (American style this time) on the table. "Eat up," she said as she placed the pan in the sink. "I'll bring takeout home tonight, yeah?"

French toast halfway to his mouth, Lando paused. "Huh?" He asked, mouth still open, ready to take a bite. But then he put the toast back down. "What? It's my birthday," he said. "You can't leave on my birthday. That's the birthday boy's rules."

"Well, birthday boy," she began as she walked past him. "I've got work. Unless you wanna live in a cardboard box in the back alley."

For a second, Lando looked like he was contemplating it. She rolled her eyes as she headed back to the bedroom to get ready for the day.

The way Lando missed her when she was working was unhealthy, he knew. But over the weeks, months (he wasn't sure how long it had been, all of the days seemed to blend together), he'd found ways to entertain himself.

She'd given him complete access to her laptop. Lando had felt so guilty when he'd hijacked it, downloading programmes and logging into software to get into contact with his employees. But the fortification of his house was coming along nicely, all because she had given him her laptop.

Any day now the house would be ready, he knew. Lando wanted nothing more than to see her roaming the halls. He'd show her around, show her the office (once he'd made it his own), show her the library, the garden. He'd take her up to meet his mum, and his dad now, too.

The thought of her in his house, in his space, helping make it his own, it stirred something in him. Something that had him grabbing her waist before she could walk through the door and head out to work. "Lan!" She said in surprise as he nipped at her neck. "Calm down, birthday boy. I'll be back in a few hours."

He watched her go. But the moment the door shut, he sat on the sofa and opened the laptop.

Nobody had wished him a happy birthday, but Lando wasn't surprised. That wasn't how it worked in a family. It was business as usual, maybe a private celebration with the head of the family's partner.

This was already the best birthday Lando had ever had. He logged into the laptop, typed several different and intricate passwords into the software he had to get into.

Will and Max had left him messages, detailing what they had done to the house. You'll need to come by today and get yourself onto the system, Will had messaged.

A groan left Lando's lips. He threw his head back for just a moment, eyes shutting. Her rarely used car was parked just across the street, and Lando knew where she kept the keys. If he left how he could be back before returned from work.

Getting changed into his suit (the one she'd cleaned up for him), Lando grabbed her keys from the hook beside the door. He pocketed them and made his way out to her car.

Lando hadn't been back to the house in months. It didn't look any different from the day he'd left it.

By the gate waited Max Fewtrell. He looked at Lando with a frown before using the keypad to open the gate. As the gate opened, Max climbed into the car. "This isn't yours," he said.

"Nope," Lando replied and began driving up towards the house.

Still, Max looked at him,clearly waiting for something more. Something that Lando wouldn't give unprompted. "You haven't run off and become a car thief, have you?" Max challenged. "Because that would be really bad for business."

Lando couldn't help but laugh as he pulled up to the house. "Nope, this beauty belongs to the love of my life."

Beauty. Max snorted at that. The car was anything but beautiful. "If we get everything set up today, you gonna move her in?"

Truthfully, Lando didn't know. If he'd been any other rich guy living in this huge ass house, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But he wasn't just any other rich guy. His world was dangerous and he wanted her away from it. If he could have kept himself away, he would have.

Max led him to the security office. He sat Lando down in front of a bunch of monitors and began setting up the security system, coding it to his passwords and prints.

It was a long process, one I will not bore you with. Lando was nearly falling asleep by the time he was finally finished. He checked the watch on his wrist and couldn't wait to get back to her apartment, back to her. His baby.

But he wasn't quite ready yet. With Max trailing behind him, Lando walked to his bedroom.

How many mindless hookups had he had in this bed? "Get new sheets," he said and Max wrote it down. "And clear out half of my wardrobe."

Because Lando really couldn't stay away from her, could he? After spending the last few months living together, living in bliss, he couldn't imagine not waking up beside her every day.

So, Lando had his staff readying the house for her to move in. It was incredible to watch happen, all for his baby. And, as soon as that was done, he headed home, headed back to hers.

***

Things had felt normal, leaving the office. He stopped into the shops, got the birthday boy some birthday chocolates, and got some takeout for the both of them.

It was her usual route home and not too far at all. Although she lived in a sketchy area, she'd never felt unsafe on her walk home.

Until tonight.

Maybe it was paranoia. Ever since Lando had told her, she'd been a lot more wary. But she'd never felt this before, never this terrified.

She sped up her steps and quickly glanced back.

The person behind her with his hands shoved into their pockets sped up their steps, too. They crossed the street when she crossed the street and followed her around corners.

When she got to her street, she was running. She kept the takeout and the shopping held tight to her body as she legged it as fast as she could to her door.

The person behind her started running, too.

As soon as she got through the door of the apartment building, she pushed her way through and kicked it shut behind her, buying her just a few more seconds.

She managed to get her own door open before the person grabbed her. Throwing her body against the door she shut it, locked it and put the chain across.

Her chest was heaving as she dropped her bags and wandered into the kitchen. As she poured herself some water, Lando came running out of the bedroom. "Baby, what is it?" He called as he strode over.

She was shaking when Lando pulled her into his chest. "You're okay," he whispered and ran his hands through his hair. He ignored the smashed bottle of wine by the front door. "I've got you, baby."

She didn't tell him what happened that moment, couldn't bring herself to speak. Lando held her until she could and, when she did, he spent his night by the door, watching through the peephole with his gun pressed to the wood.

Tomorrow he'd get her out of here, get her somewhere safe.

a/n: i'm so sorry i haven't updated this one in over two weeks, my focus has been elsewhere lmao

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#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

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allfearstofallto · 6 months

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I swear to God Childe has so much potential as a yandere, I have this feeling that his soul “died” when he fall into the abyss, after that major event he is a completely different person and his parents knows it they saw it in his eyes, soulless, thirsty for blood and violence.

Imagine him in utter shock when his kids get scared of him, not realizing his love is twisted and sick in the head after they saw how he treats their mother by trying to mimic what he thinks is “love”, how she gets anxious whenever she’s around him,they can hear her cry every night from their bedroom despite her trying her best to be the mother they deserve knowing the circumstances that led to their births, Generally children can feel when something is happening in their household but cannot fully understand it due to their age (lol speaking from experience).

He thought he’d have a picture perfect family with his darling, but why now are they seeing him as if he some type of a monster? That will for sure would make him insecure and it brings up the abyss memories. He claims he loves them and their mother so much but why does he hurt their mama?.

Friend, this is literally a full fledged fic already! And it's incredible!! I've been thinking on this idea for a bit already cause I already had an ask similar to it, so I'll add onto your fic just a little bit!!

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere themes, reader has children

Growing up in a large family with so many siblings to love and care for, laughter was a sound that he often heard. It was his favorite sound, other than the distinct noise that blood made when it dripped into freshly packed snow. Snezhnaya is cold, but laughter coming straight from your belly is so so warm.

He loves coming home to the sound of laughter. Childish giggles and your rich chuckles. He'd sit his bow down to the side and close the front door to the manor, a noise that was rather loud. He'd be smiling ear to ear, wanting to join in on all the fun, only to realize that the house was now quiet.

Childe went to the living room, where you sat with his two sons. Your two sons. His little bundles of joy that he was eternally grateful to have. The younger one rested on your lap, the other on the carpeted floor at your feet, with a myriad of toys splayed in front of him.

Why did you always make that face at him, he wondered. Big doe eyes, like deer in headlights, you always looked so stiff and scared around him. Maybe that's why in turn, the kids made that same face, maybe that's why the laughter always stopped when he entered the room. The kids would huddle in closer to you and farther away from him.

"It's nice to see you all together when I come home," he'd say, with that smile still on his face, but you could see the edges of his lips twitching. He was forcing this smile and you forced one back, gently tapping your son with your foot to tell him to do the same. He hesitated for a moment, then beamed up at him with a grin, missing his two front teeth.

"We missed you, papa!" He yelled, just as you told him to. Just the way Childe wanted. Your younger son continued to bury his face in your lap, trying to look any where but his father.

Childe didn't seem bothered by this and leaned down to tousle the boy's orange hair, making him flinch in your hold, "I always loved that they got my hair color," he said while looking at you, eyes so dead and empty, you thought you were looking into a void, "I never realized how well my hair and your eyes went together until I saw them."

"Is that so, my love?" You spoke warmly while gently trying to nudge your son from your lap, "We could talk more about it now. I was just going to send the boys to their rooms."

His expression finally changed. The facade finally fell. His smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell that he was trying to hold the expression back, trying not to scare the children, but they'd already notice his change in demeanor. His shift in attitude making the air feel thick and tight, constricting your chest.

"Why would we do that? We can just talk together, as a family,"

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #genshin childe x reader

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immortalityriver · 3 months

Note

Hii, saw your Genya HCS and I love it so much! Is it okay to write HCs of Genya as a overprotective boyfriend with a GN reader? (Fluff)

I hope you have a great day and take care of yourself :)

AWWW YES. i've been really busy with family lately so i'm not sure when this was sent in.

i'm also working on another ask, that should be out soon too!!

gn!reader/fluff

au; original

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Genya never saw himself as someone who would make a good partner.

he thought he was an alright person, but love? relationships?? he never had time to put those things into consideration.

the minute he met you, though? he found his thoughts were plagued. absolutely plagued.

he doesn't fall often, he falls hard.

a gentle lover, regardless of how big and scary people view him. he isn't all too great at expressing himself emotionally, nor his affection due to his shyness but he tries his very best all for you!

but he has no problem expressing how worried sick he is.

you're both demon slayers, same rank, same final selection, fully capable of defending yourself as well as him with one arm if needed.

and yet he wields the power to sicken himself half to death like no other. every time you're gone off on a mission and he simply can't be with you.

the moment you get back he's up on his feet prying about the mission, asking how it went, lots of "did you get hurt??" and "come lie down." before you're whisked away and practically held captive until he's sure you're unharmed.

he's protective in more ways than one, his jealousy often getting the better of him even if he's been assured countless times

he's almost too embarrassed to act on it, but his frustration exceeds his shame most of the time and he can't bite back his tongue much longer.

his rage isn't directed toward you, always the guy that had the tiniest chance of swooning you, in a different universe. maybe.

"..i don't like that guy." with a twitch in his expression and you already know what he's trying to get at.

"neither do i. you don't have anything to worry about, Genya."

he sighs, his shoulders dropping a little bit.

"..Come on." you bap his shoulder lightly, "you know as well as i do that i couldn't replace you. not for anything."

genya seems to have mixed opinions on that at first, his features softening when you reach out to hold his hand

"..i know." he murmurs, intertwining his fingers alongside yours, "it's stupid, sorry."

he can't ever seem to stay mad for long, though.

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

#kny genya #demon slayer #demon slayer genya #kimetsu no yaiba #ask response #anime #genya shinazugawa #genya #genya x reader #fluff #kny fluff #kimetsu no yaiba genya #drabble #reader insert #x reader #genya fluff

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ohnococo · 6 months

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How To Fight | MMA Fighter!Toji x Physical Therapist!Reader

You love your job as a Physical Therapist, and would rather avoid any complications. Unfortunately MMA Fighter Toji Fushiguro has taken a liking to you. Despite your better judgement, you've taken a liking to him too.

✧ wc: 6.3k

✧ notes: A song fic taking place in the MMA AU. The song lyrics referenced are from How To Fight by Eartheater

✧ warnings: eventual angst, mma!au, no curse au, widowed Toji, divorced Toji, single dad Toji, fem bodied reader, pronouns used (she/her), pet names (sweetheart), flirting, unwanted advances, pussy referred to as 'she', physical therapist reader, recurring injury, injury recovery, vaginal sex, cumshot

i've tasted metals of my own blood, and learned to like it

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It was against everything you stood for to be happy to see a client again, given your line of work, but Toji was different. Against your better judgement, he had somehow managed to work his way into your mind, burrowing past that steely wall of professionalism you kept up at all times with those in your care. You were determined to never let him know that, though.

“Well, Toji, I would prefer it if you didn’t keep getting yourself injured.”

He breezes right past that. “Just let me take you out, it’ll be a lot nicer than pushing me around and cracking my joints.”

It was a simplification bordering on misunderstanding your work, as if you were some chiropractor, but you know he’s only saying it to get you shoving him around with that tinge of annoyance he feeds right into your veins. You try not to give in, because you’re always trying not to give in to Toji, really. Then he’s resisting, just enough to make you really have to work to guide him in the stretch you want him to do, and he’s managed to get you right where he wants you yet again. You tug at his hips, guiding him into movements he should be familiar with by now.

“Just let me do my job.”

You had no intention of accepting his advances, whether they were in the form of invitations to dinner, sparkling bedroom eyes, or flirtatious comments that would have had you kicking anyone else right out of your office. Not Toji, though. With him, you just find yourself slowly allowing him to speak to you more and more familiarly.

The corner of his mouth lifts smugly just as he’s turning away, taking his gaze off of you directly to watch you in the mirror along the wall next to the mat you were standing on. He allows you to move him for a moment, only offering light resistance now, as if you could truly make him do anything he didn’t want to, then continues the twisting motion on his own. You watch his body carefully, avoiding eye contact because you already know those green eyes are fixed on your face, trying to coax you into giving him the smallest inch to turn into a mile.

“If you want your hands on me you don’t gotta use your job as an excuse.”

You ignore him outright, drowning out any potentially untoward thoughts with a strengthened focus on your work. As always, it works, and you note on your assessment forms that his hip mobility was normal. You knew it would be, that Toji knew how to throw his punches properly, but you’re always thorough with your checklist whether it was for the reasons Toji accused you of or not.

“Stand against the wall.”

He lets out a whistle, hands up as he does, “Gonna frisk me?”

“I’m gonna refer you to Yaga so you can get wrung out like a wet rag if you don’t do what I tell you.”

“Ooh, that doesn’t sound too bad, actually.”

“Toji.”

He chuckles as he settles into the position he already knows you want him in, doing lunges with the wall as a marker for how deep to press forward as you watch his ankle and knee movements.

“All good there.” You tap his back, nodding as you make your notes while he stands in wait.

“Okay, upper body.”

You know this is where he’ll need the work, as usual, and you’re quick to go through your checks with the right shoulder, moving onto his problem area. You already knew from his post-fight medical, but are happy to find, as you watch his movements as he lifts and rotates his arm, that it’s no more serious than the last time.

“Left shoulder…” you say aloud as you note it.

He looks annoyed, at himself rather than at you, “Always is.”

It makes you feel bad for him, in a way. He wasn’t really reckless in the ring. He knew his body too well and was too calculated with how he approached his fights. Unfortunately, it was simply a recurring injury, as shoulder issues often were. Something that was always going to pop back up sooner or later, but with the way Toji took so many fights even as he neared his forties it seemed to be “sooner” more and more often.

As you rotate his arm, feeling where he tenses and softening your movements, you share a little of your optimism with him - couched in realism, of course.

“Don’t look so sad. It’s similar to the last one, so it shouldn’t be too long before we have you out there in the ring living your best life.”

He laughs at that, sounding a little dryer than his usual flirty chuckle, “I’m not living my best life in there.”

You glance up at him while you continue your assessment, brows raising in muted interest before he continues.

“Put it this way, I like it because I like the money. I don’t love fighting.” He thinks on it a little more before adding, “I do love finishing fights, though.”

To you, there was little difference between those two things, but then you weren’t the one doing the fighting so you accept his feelings on the matter. “That’s fair. I think it’s kind of rare to really love your job.”

As you firmly grasp his bicep, lifting his arm outwards, he flexes for just a moment, grin returning to its usual wolfish state, “Bet you love your job though. Groping men all day.”

You release his arm, letting it fall for only a moment, but catching it as soon as he winces, “I’d love it a lot more if you let me do it without those kinds of comments.”

“Ehh,” he tilts his head, brows raising in disbelief at your continued assertions that you didn’t get any sort of satisfaction out of this (and you didn’t… until him). “I think you get something out of them.”

You ignore him again, returning to your desk to note your recommendations. “Four to six weeks of sessions, as usual.” You look up at him then, indirectly threatening him to behave, “Four will probably do though.”

It shouldn’t have been a threat, getting him back up to snuff as efficiently as possible, but it had become one by now with Toji. It was a joke, of course. Toji would feign being hurt by the thought of it, but was always happy to be able to accept his next fight as soon as possible.

But sometimes it didn’t feel like a joke. Sometimes you did want a little more time basking in his flirtations. Toji Fushiguro had unfortunately grown on you and it often left you feeling ashamed. His reputation precedes him. He’d even been married when he first came into your office, and here you were worrying about missing those butterflies in your stomach at his little reminders that he is completely fixated on you.

When you find yourself smiling a little too widely at him, or even thinking about him outside of your sessions, you have to remind yourself that there was nothing actually there. It was just what he was like with anyone that caught his eye, even if it was only ever you he was assigned to once you’d started working there.

The why of it all wasn’t a mystery in the beginning. He was a relentless flirt that, based on how cagey some of your coworkers were about hearing he would be in your care, had apparently enjoyed his time with many of them before you. You didn’t mess around about your job, though. You loved your work, and you loved the convenience of this position, so you’d decided that you absolutely would not be added to his list of conquests.

At first keeping that professional level of disinterest was easy. It had seemed so obvious that he’d move on and request another PT work with him after the first of his recurring injuries led to several sessions worth of you rejecting his advances. That wasn’t the case, though. Maybe that was exactly why he kept coming to you and only you. The challenge.

And it was a challenge, for the both of you. You were intent on giving him nothing, and he was intent at making that as hard as possible for you without even really trying. By the third time he’s booked in for several sessions with you for post-fight recovery, you find yourself actually letting your guard down around him, if only a little. You might have even missed him.

i've gone under the knife of love, dissected every vein and vessel

Another week, another therapy session, another attempt to keep your composure, even with how relentless Toji is.

“How long are you gonna keep making me ask before you let me take you to dinner?”

You shoot him a look. The answer should be never, followed by asserting quite bluntly that you don’t sleep with clients, since he wasn’t exactly being subtle. That’s what the answer used to be, at least. It’s not quite that direct now, though. “How long are you going to keep getting yourself injured and winding up here?”

He puts his hand to his heart, feigning pain, “Listen, if I didn’t have a bum shoulder I wouldn’t get to come and be your favourite client.”

“I wouldn’t say favourite.”

He lifts his head from your massage table, flashing you a winning smile and the closest to puppy dog eyes a man like Toji could muster. “Cutest?”

“I wouldn’t say that either.”

He closes his eyes, relaxing onto your table as you move and massage his shoulder firmly, “Whatever you say, sweetheart…”

Toji really did enjoy testing you. Especially with his favourite little pet name for you. Sweetheart. ’Even though you’re not too sweet to me’ he’d said with a little pout, entirely undercut by his hungry eyes. You used to shoot him looks that could have killed a man on the spot in some other universe. Now you don’t look at him at all when he says it, it feels too risky. It feels like something in your eyes will give you away.

You throw out another of the many threats Toji knows are baseless by now, said as many times and with as little conviction as most of your defences against him. “You’re lucky I don’t kick you out.”

He peeks at you through barely opened eyes, as you stretch his arm outward, “That's what I’m saying, you’ve got a soft spot for me.”

That’s your final signal to put your proverbial work hat on a little more snugly as you push down, and he taps his fingers against you, indicating his limit for this particular stretch. He understands you’re truly done with the conversation as you pat his side and step back.

“Alright, time for strengthening exercises.”

This was the part he always got bored with. You weren’t touching him now, not after the first time to demonstrate what you wanted from him. You weren’t naive enough to believe him when he kept feigning a need for more hands-on guidance as he goes through the recommended motions. A man doesn’t get to the point of looking like Toji without knowing how to lift weights - especially not the small ones you had him on just to slowly get his strength back in his shoulder.

Even then, lying on the floor, raising a little 5 pound weight with his healing arm while you stand above him watching closely, he’s still ready to run his mouth.

“I like this.”

“It feels alright?”

“The weight is fine, but I like having you standing over me like that.”

You give him nothing, pursing your lips as you put the tip of your shoes between his arm and the ground, “Keep your arm up, don’t bring it down too far.”

Ignoring his comments is the best you can do sometimes. Even if it gets harder with every session as you start to actually look forward to it deep down. Even if it becomes your only defence until you’re spending a good chunk of these sessions in a near haze, trying to force as much emotional distance as possible once his flirting starts up.

His comments were uncalled for, and so was the way it made you feel. You were far from the type to be desperate for the attention of a man like him, and the way your body responded to him only pissed you off the more it excited you. All you can do, or all you’re willing to do, is shut it down, and remember that you have a job to do.

—

After three more sessions of this you’ve convinced yourself that you’re more than ready to discharge him and hopefully enjoy a peaceful several months without the risk of seeing his face again. The fact that it never used to take convincing to enjoy having the walking talking complication out of your life is something you aren’t willing to address.

“You’re gonna miss me, aren’t you?”

“Don’t start, Toji.”

You know you can’t really tell him what to do, unfortunately.

“You don’t have to if you-“

“That’s right, I don’t have to miss you, and I won’t. Hopefully you don’t go getting yourself injured again so you can come and bother me more.”

Your tone has him sucking in air through his teeth and grimacing a little.

“I don’t exactly like getting injured.” He looks away as he speaks and it’s strange not having his eyes on you like you were some sort of prey to be carefully observed. “I couldn’t even help my son move into his dorm. Cage fighter dad that can’t even lift a fucking box. It pisses me off.”

He shrugs, eyes back on you, lit up anew, “But at least I get to see your pretty face, huh?”

As much as you don’t enjoy Toji’s comments, you like these little glimpses of something else even less. Because he does talk to you. About his day, about little things that pop in his head when he’s bored of flirting for seconds at a time. And it makes it much harder not to get a little too attached when he isn’t just being a simple womaniser.

It sometimes makes you feel like Toji thinks you’re some sort of therapist - when he’s not relentlessly trying to get you into his bed. And you know that’s what all of his flirting is, of course.

Because his reputation precedes him. Yes, he’ll take someone out. Yes, they’ll have a good time. Yes, they’ll fuck. Except in your case you aren’t a part time receptionist or ring girl that might be able to avoid awkward situations with him during the nothing that comes after all of that. And you aren’t willing to mess up the good thing you have with your job, even though some of your coworkers seemed to be.

What wasn't mentioned to you as part of his reputation, was the little breadcrumbs of who he was beneath the charm and muscle. It’s known he was a prodigy in his sport. It’s known he retired young to be a family man. And it’s known he came back, 5 years later, newly widowed.

He doesn’t talk about his first wife much, because why would he? Any brief mentions of her are with an undying warmth and love that undercuts his reputation as a heartbreaker. She’s special. The mother of his child, his first love. The former is stated, the latter is obvious. Nothing short of that would melt that hardened mask of indifference.

His second wife, he doesn’t speak about at all. You only know of her because he mentions a step-daughter, and because when he’d flirted with you from the very first time he’d entered your care your eyes had locked onto the ring on his finger with contempt for how little it apparently meant. By the time you see him next, nearly half a year and another injury later, he isn’t wearing the ring anymore.

Something in you feels flattered when you ask Toji about how his son was finding college in front of a coworker who had been here much longer than you, and they’re shocked as they say they didn’t know he had kids. Then, you’re left even more annoyed at him for giving you more complications to maintaining a necessary level of professional distance in your job.

Small talk shouldn’t feel so heavy.

Helping people recover shouldn’t make you have to deal with these thoughts.

i know how to fight, how to fuck, how to die, how to resurrect my pride

When you give in, it’s in the worst way. He doesn’t even take you to dinner, you don’t give him a chance to. It’s his fourth time in your care, this time for an ankle injury. Something basic, something much more simple to deal with than his recurring problem. Something that will get him out of your hair in no time.

He isn’t simple to deal with though, telling you about the dogs his son adopted, how he never really got how people got so attached to animals growing up, but now he gets it. He’s got you comfortable, not even thinking about how your guard is down, nor about how you even smile at him as he shows you a picture of his son, buried under two masses of fluff and begrudgingly smiling at the camera.

“God, Toji, you really just have a little twin there, don’t you?”

He laughs, looking at the picture of his son, before setting his phone aside on the mat. “Nah, there’s a lot of his mom in there.”

You smile, patting his shoulder in a rare touch outside of professional reasons, “That’s nice.”

He lies back on the mat, out of your reach, “You’re nice, for once.”

You get back to work, wrapping your hands around his ankle and bending his foot slowly. “I’m nice to people who aren’t constantly trying to get into my pants.”

“Hey, who said I was trying to do that? I’m just trying to take you out.” He sits up and leans onto his elbows, “but if that’s the kind of thing you’re interested in…”

“I’m interested in doing my job. I don’t mind talking to you when you relax with the inappropriate comments.”

“I’ve gotta prove myself to you before you’ll let me take you out, got it.”

“Is that what I said, Toji?”

Toji shrugs, fully relaxing back onto his elbows, and you pull on his foot gently. “That’s what I heard.”

You shoot him a look that you hope can put fear into the heart of even him. Instead, it only seems to inspire other emotions as he forms his scarred lips into a pout that misses the mark of garnering pity for his plight as a man rejected yet again, though you’re certain Toji knows exactly what he’s doing when he makes faces like that. Even with his lips puckered and sticking out slightly, even with his brows fashioned into a worried frown, his eyes telegraph exactly what he’s thinking about.

It crumbles your resolve, leaving you looking away first as you let out a sigh you hope comes across as frustration instead of weakness. You readjust your position squatting down next to him on the mat, trying to get a feel for the flexibility of his ankle before you start guiding him through putting some of his weight onto it as he straightens the other leg and lifts his hips off the mat before settling back down.

He’s quiet then, for much longer than you were used to, and you take the silence as an opportunity to work in peace as you rotate his foot again. When you look back up at him it has your heart beating a little faster than it should be. His teeth press lightly at his lower lip, his eyelids are only half open, and his brow quirks as if just your look had the same effect as having said something dirty.

“What is it now?”

You expect him to make some comment about your hands on his body, how they were lingering even now. He makes you wait for it though, tilting his head from one side to the other as he looks you up and down, smiling like he has a secret he’s debating keeping.

Another sigh falls from your lips, filled with actual frustration this time, and when he sits up it feels like he’s towering over you in a way you simply could not overcome, despite being able to easily stand and remove yourself from the pull of his gaze. The way he peers at you, even more intense than usual, has the back of your neck tingling and you’re forced to swallow hard even with the fear that something as simple as that would give you away.

His gaze softens, dipping back into something cooler, as if he’s backing away from an animal signalling that an approach would not be treated kindly. He takes a deep breath, and you don’t even notice you’re following suit until you both exhale at the same time.

It’s as if he’s settling whatever that moment was with just a look, deciding not to make the final jump to cross that imaginary line, and it puts you at ease enough that his words are like a punch to the gut.

“You’re pretending you don’t like it, but your neck is doing that thing.”

“What? What are you talking about?” You’re blowing it, far too defensive even though you truly aren’t actually sure what he means.

“Here.” He brings a hand to your neck, tracing a finger down the length of it, stopping just above your collarbones. “You always tense riiiiight there.”

He pulls his hand back, settling it on his thigh, and you let out the breath you’d been holding from the moment his hands were coming towards you. It makes you realise you’d been so focused on controlling everything you did or said that you’d been clenching yourself like a fist every time his words, or actions, left you melting inside. It also makes you realise that was the first time he’d put his hands on you in a way entirely unrelated to your work since he shook your hand the day you’d met.

You’re horrified at having been found out. You’re even more horrified as you realise you hadn’t really been hiding anything anyway. It’s left you with no clue how to respond, and you suddenly feel so aware of your every movement, unable to decipher how to behave when your little act had been so, so obvious to him from the start.

“Look, if you really want me to stop, I’ll st-“ he pauses, looking up as he thinks, scrunching his nose and tilting his head as if he’s weighing options. “Well, I’ll try to stop. I can’t make any promises…”

He’s pausing again, thinking again, looking you up and down as he licks his lips, before he crosses his legs, pulling his ankle out of your grasp and resting his elbows on his thighs as he leans forward. It forces you to react, as if on instinct, and lean back off of your feet to seat yourself with knees raised and acting as a final barrier between the two of you. He lets you keep that distance you’d gained, but brings a hand to hover over your knee so closely that you’re not sure if he’s touched you yet or if it’s just the heat radiating off of him setting your nerves on fire.

You can’t even bring your eyes away from his to check, and realise that you wouldn’t exactly want to move further away whether his touch was real or imagined. His gaze has you locked in place just as much as your own head as you find yourself thoroughly buried in your own pit of uncertainty as everything moves too fast for your mind to catch up.

“You don’t want me to stop though, do you sweetheart?”

His eyes, the heat of him, his low words digging through that pit in your stomach to reach for your core, it all has you feeling too lightheaded to be able to think at all. You can barely even feel yourself shaking your head, body much more honest than you had been willing to be all this time.

“Thought so.”

He leans in, brushing his nose back and forth against yours, smiling with the cute gesture, then that grin spreads wider as you tilt your head, your eyes fluttering closed as you wait for him to just kiss you. He doesn’t, waiting long enough that you’re forced to open your eyes and confront the sight of that hungry face yet again, and this time his gaze has you outright clenching.

“Big girls don’t get what they want by acting all shy, do they?”

It’s too much, you feel humiliated, you feel sick, you feel like you’ll pass out if he keeps working you up without even putting his hands on you properly.

“Kiss me. If you wanna.”

You don’t know who you are, needing to be told what to do like this. You question who you are again, as you follow orders in a way you never would have before you’d been called out like this and press your lips to his, letting out a breath that’s shaky enough to have you revealing just how desperate you were. When you start to wonder who you are for the third time, for kissing a client, at work no less, you drown out that thought by parting your lips against his.

He responds with softly parted lips of his own, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he slots his mouth against yours. You wait for his tongue, flitting the tip of yours against his lower lip, and when it does not come you’re clinging to his shirt, bunching it at his shoulders. You’re forced to hold onto those broad shoulders properly when he lies back and his hands on your waist bring you with him to settle you on top of him - wordlessly reiterating that you would need to pull yourself together and set the pace here.

It’s your final push, as you straddle him with hands braced against his chest and slide your tongue into his mouth. Feeling the body you’d had your hands on far too many times, this time beneath you and with your ability to lie to yourself about the effect it has on you stripped away, has you salivating. You set all shame aside for this moment as you grind down against him, indulging in the feel of his stiffening cock beneath layers of thin fabric.

That tense feeling threatens to return, prickling at the back of your neck as he laughs into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and guiding your movements against him with strong hands on your hips. It’s gone again as he lifts his hips gently, using your weight against you as you only press harder onto him. You squeeze at his pecs, groaning into his mouth as you finally goad him into kissing you back with the same intensity you were now pouring into him, and it’s as delightfully invasive as you’d tried your hardest not to imagine it would be time and time again. It sends a tremble through your thighs, the wetness pooling in your panties all too obvious to you as all of your hidden desperation pulses through you straight from your pussy.

You forget yourself while kissing him like this, unaware of how long you’ve been on top of him, unaware of how you were moaning outright with just the friction between you, unaware of anything but feeling and tasting and touching as much of Toji as you could.

He’s aware though, aware of everything just as he always has been. How your thighs squeeze at his hips, the way your moans start sounding more like breathy little whines, how your tongue stops moving for seconds at a time against his. And it’s all he needs to keep this momentum going so quickly that everything but the two of you is an unintelligible blur.

“You gonna cum just like this?”

You don’t really want to answer it, and the look you give him as you try to keep him kissing you rather than talking has him chuckling, light and breathy against your skin.

“Sweetheart… if you’d just let me take you out from the beginning you wouldn’t be so pent up and begging for it…”

It takes more concentration than you have available to you right now to steady your voice. “I’m not begging.”

He takes in your face, biting at his lower lip as he slides two fingers into your mouth. He wiggles them around, sliding over your tongue, practically fucking your mouth with those thick fingers, knuckles catching at your tightened lips. “You aren’t…”

His fingers leave your mouth just as you were starting to actually enjoy the intrusion, and he slips his hands into your leggings, past your panties, stopping you from pressing down against his clothed cock like you had been as he circles your entrance slowly, “but she is.”

Then, his hand is gone, resecured on your hips, steadying your movements. “But you’re the boss here, not her. So if you don’t want it…”

“Come on, Toji.” You’re chastising him, even if you’re in no position to do so with your thighs tensing and your hips begging to keep moving against him.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Like I said, you’re the boss. So I don’t move without orders.”

And he doesn’t. He doesn’t keep kissing you, even when you press your lips against his again, sighing out your frustration against his soft smile. He doesn’t release your hips to let you keep stoking your fire on his body. He doesn’t do anything but look up at you with a hungry glint in his eye, enjoying every moment it takes you to push your pride aside to ask him for exactly what you’ve wanted longer than you can admit to yourself.

“I want to cum.”

“Just you? Not a very good boss, huh…”

You groan, frustration with him reaching a fever pitch, “I want you to fuck me.”

He closes his eyes, smiling wide and letting your words wash over him. It’s music to his ears, and when he looks back up at you his pupils are blown and you know he’s done holding back. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

His arm is around your waist then, keeping you steady as rolls you over, settling himself between your thighs and you’re now looking up at him. You feel the tensing of his body, and come back to yourself enough to give him a concerned look.

He catches it, pressing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb over your lips in an attempt to soothe those worries.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He shifts so he’s not putting weight onto his ankle, pulling at your shoes until they’re sliding off and hitting the ground. You lift your hips as you work your own leggings and underwear down, straightening your legs for him to remove them for you before he’s spreading you wide with hands on your inner thighs. He slides a hand towards your pussy, rubbing his thumb through your wetness and sucking air through his teeth at the way it slips around with ease.

“You really were gonna cum like that, weren’t you?”

You run your hands over your face, unwilling to endure any more teasing, “Just fuck me, Toji.”

He whistles, releasing your thighs and tugging the waistband of his shorts down just enough to release his cock, and you look up to his face, refusing to give him a reaction until he’s sliding inside you just as you’ve asked. He braces himself on one of his elbows, leaning over you and letting his cock hang heavily against your stomach. His hair tickles at your face as he kisses you again before requesting a final affirmation before following the orders you’d given.

“Want me to go slow?”

He really does wear your patience thin, enough that you answer without thinking, “No.”

“Okay…” he sounds doubtful, but continues on as he grips himself at the base and rubs the head of his cock through your wetness.

You squeeze at his sides, prompting him to look at you instead of at his own cock below. “Do not cum inside me.”

It’s stern enough to make Toji laugh, your voice sounding much more like your usual self for just a moment. “Don’t worry, I don’t want any more responsibilities.”

You don’t know if you trust Toji, but right now you don’t exactly trust yourself either. Especially not when having this man you’d spent ages closing yourself off to split you open on his cock in one merciless push has you wincing and taking it like it was exactly what you deserved for being so weak to him.

Toji pauses, balls deep, eyes clouded as he looks down at you. “I asked if you wanted me to go slow.”

It’s said with a hint of pity and a look that says ’you did this to yourself’, though he does stay still, kissing you again and removing your need to try and collect your thoughts enough to reassert that you knew your body, not him.

He doesn’t hold back for long though, and once you’re sighing into his mouth again, your tongue’s movements sloppy and unfocused, he starts moving his hips slowly. He starts with shallow thrusts, hips barely leaving yours. Then, as your body relaxes and your pussy accommodates him with a telltale squelch, he pulls out further, fucking you harder. Once your thighs are gripping at his hips he sits up, gathering more momentum in his thrusts at the slight change of angle.

He presses his hand to your abdomen, thumb making out a steady pace on your clit as his hips make angled thrusts that have his cock working at you with purpose. The moan it draws from you is punctuated with your eyes rolling, trying desperately to refocus on the face of the man above you. He bites at his lip, nodding and groaning at the feel of you tightening as he finds the movements that have your hands trying to grip at something below, but only meeting the dull squeak of your fingertips sliding against the mat. He leans back, reaching up to grab at the back of the collar of his shirt and tug it over his head, tossing it aside. He grasps both of your wrists firmly, pulling your hands up to rest against his stomach as he looks down at you with a challenge in his eyes.

“C’mon, touch me.” He smiles, wide and wicked, “Like you’ve always wanted to.”

You do just that, running your hands over his abs, grazing your thumb over his belly button, tracing your fingers along the prominent vein on his abdomen that leads down below to where the two of you are connected. Then, your hands travel back upwards, gripping at his pecs. His hand returns to press at you, thumb back to playing with your swollen clit, and having that touch back so suddenly has you squeezing Toji’s pecs hard, drawing a moan from him.

“There you go.” It adds even more enthusiasm to his thrusts, speed picking up as he leans over you, propping himself up on one hand as he digs deep to have you squeezing him again.

This time your touch is intentional as you squeeze at the flesh, a slight give present before you reach hardened muscle, and when you graze your nails over his nipples he’s shivering above you, bucking into you harder. The way he rubs at your clit is almost mechanical in its precise speed and pacing, a steady climb punctuated by those thrusts that stroke your insides in a way that makes your body tingle and your toes curl.

“That easy, huh?”

The audacity helps you lock eyes on him, if only for a moment, and while his smug smile builds a small fury at the back of your mind, your receive vindication in the flutter of his lashes and slight twitch of his upper lip as he tries to ignore the call of his tightening balls. It gives you what you need to dig deep, rocking your hips up into his thrusts, unearthing the orgasm just below the surface for the both of you.

You find yours first, putting your trust in Toji as you let go and bounce into him as it rips through you white hot and powerful enough to have you curling in on yourself, head buried against Toji’s chest and legs clamping him until his hips are pressed to yours. He pushes past even the strength of your legs and pulsing pussy, thrusting until you release him, lying back, and your head has barely hit the mat below before he’s pulling out.

“Fuck…” it’s hissed out as he sits up and jerks at his cock roughly, head falling back while his hips buck up and into his fist. His cum spatters down, first landing on your shirt until you tug it up, hopeless as the task was with your clothes already ruined, and take the rest of it onto your bare stomach.

He’s left panting, you’re left panting. He looks like he’s won at something, you feel like you’ve lost.

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #mma!au #mma!toji #mma fighter!toji #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #x reader #self insert

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vhagarlovebot · 10 months

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MAKE THE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS, TAKE THE MOMENT AND TASTE IT | AEMOND TARGARYEN

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU summary: in wich aemond is not afraid to make his move. very, very publicly, making the whole internet go insane. pairings: actor!aemond x singer!reader content warnings: faceclaim is sabrina carpenter but you can imagine reader as you'd like, some cursing, taylor swift/travis kelce inspired plot, use of y/n because it is necessary!! if you don’t like it, sorry. note: omg i can't believe i'm doing this, hope you enjoy this piece little piece as much as i enjoyed making it! as i say; being delulu is the solulu. and here i am feeding into all out delusions. comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! love you, mwah. 💋

TWITTER ‣ AUG 12, 2023.

INSTAGRAM ‣ AUG 12, 2023.

INSTAGRAM ‣ AUG 13, 2023.

Liked by taylorswift, aemondtargaryen, gracieabrams and 1,221,948 others

yourusername oldtown i couldn’t love you more. had the best first night with you and we still have three more to go! thanks so much to everyone there, i couldn't do this whout you. see you tonight for round 2? 🤍

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user1 i can't believe i couldn't be there

zendaya had the best night with u!

yourusername thank u sm for coming, love you. 💗

user2 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user3 i don't now if i wanna be her or if i wanna be with her

user4 I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU BUT I SEE AEMOND TARGARYEN IN HER LIKES

user5 I THOUGHT IT WAS A MISTAKE AT FIRST user6 I mean he was at Oldtown night1 so... user7 HE WENT TO HER CONCERT? user8 BESTIE HAVE YOU NOT SEEN THE PICS?

troyesivan see you 2night oldtown. ✌️

AEMOND TARGARYEN INTERVIEW ‣ AUG 25, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ AUG 25-26, 2023.

INSTAGRAM ‣ SEPT 21, 2023.

Liked by jace_velaryon, therhaenatarg and 891,648 others

fairyhelaena friends and family for the weekend @ highgarden. 💚🌺🪴🍃🕊️

view all 4,778 comments

lucerys03 looking 💯 as always.

baelatarg stop lying to yourself

user9 OH MY GOD IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user10 is that @yourusername in the second slide???

user11 yes!! she's in the fourth one too

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

user12 it's impossible that she doesn't know about what aemond said, right? user13 knowing how jace is i'm sure she already knows. they probably were giving her a hard time lol

user14 Y/N hanging out with aemond's family but not him would never not make me laugh

user15 he's out there telling the world he likes her and she still hasn't say anything user16 and she doesn't have to. leave the poor girl alone user17 i mean she spent the whole weekend with aemond's sister and nephews, maybe he was there too user18 sorry to disappoint you but he's in king's landing user19 bro must be fuming, everyone in his family meeting his girl except for him

Liked by oliviarodrigo, nicholasgalitzine, aemondtargaryen and 955,899 others

yourusername took a couple of days off to hang out with some friends. see you in a bit for the second and final leg of the cruel summer tour! 💌

view all 11,565 comments

user20 she's glowing

user21 wait- i feel like i've seen that guy before

user22 that's because he's aemond's nephew and also an actor

fairyhelaena my pretty 🌟

user23 THAT'S LUKE VELARYON???????

user24 HE IS !!!!! user25 yes he is, she was with aemond's family during the weekend

user26 idk why but i have the feeling that aemond saw these pics and ran to call luke

user27 and was probably screaming at him for an hour lol user28 another reason for aemond to hate him user29 he doesn't hate him, he's family user28 you can hate family user30 stfu it is well known that they have had their differences but they're in good terms now user31 besides who are we to talk about it? that's private. there are comments under aemond's posts of them joking with each other lol user30 idk why she's talking shit.

user32 WHY IS SHE WITH HIS FAMILY BUT NOT WITH HIM?

user33 what world are we living in

iMESSAGE ‣ SEPT 31, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ OCT 10, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ OCT 28, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ DEC 04, 2023.

let me give you a kiss if you make it here! and let me know if you'd like a part 2 of this little smau. as i said comments & reblog are greatly appreciated!

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smau #social media au #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you

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netherfeildren · 8 months

Text

Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 1. Genus: Tragedy

Series Masterlist ; Part 2.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Existence is a needful thing. Choice is fickle, nature inescapable. Run to the end of the world, Joel, all those things will still find you.

She'll still come for you.

-OR-

the A/B/O outbreak AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Light Angst; Slow Burn; Shocking Considering the Implications of Me and This Trope but Alas; Biologically Assigned Soulmates; Power Dynamics; Topping From the Bottom; Government Controlled Reproduction; Segregation of the Designations; Institutionalized Sexism; Vaguely Handmaidien Undertones; Incredibly Soft Despite the Tags; Be Not Afraid, Dear Reader!; Yearning; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Competence Kink; Alpha Joel; Omega MC; Very Soft Joel; Older and Jaded Alpha; Young and Needy Omega; Age Gap; Size Difference; Size Kink

A/N: I've found there is an absolutely shocking lack of A/B/O in this fandom, and this is my contribution to begin rectifying that. I swear that despite the way the tags read, this is entirely and sickeningly sweet soft, comfort, caretaking fic.

Share thoughts, please. It's sort of a different one.

Word Count: 6.3K

Read on AO3

Tip Jar

Genus : Tragedy

To a one Mr. Joel Miller,

500 Sheahan Road

Clallam Bay, WA 98326

United States

We are writing to inform you that as of January 8th, 2015 there remain two weeks until your designated omega’s twenty second birthday, and a year since she has come of age. We have made several attempts to contact you with no response. As mandated by the federal government, you must collect her by January 22nd, 2015 or she will be distributed to another individual of the designation alpha who would be willing to accommodate her.

The omega’s evaluations are all up to date, and she has displayed pristine results in both health and behavioral tests. It is estimated that her first heat will occur soon, and we strongly encourage you to collect before the fever starts and our facility is forced to place her with another willing alpha that may see the process through. As she is part of the Federal Alpha/Omega Pairing Program, and is biologically paired to an alpha already, that being you, if not collected she would be placed in the bidding pool and distributed to the highest offer.

Again, we strongly encourage you to contact our facility with a response on your decision as soon as possible so that we may prepare the omega. We would like to remind you that these creatures are delicate, and unexpected changes to their habitats and surroundings cause high levels of distress. It is of the utmost importance that we proceed in accordance with the omega’s nature.

Enclosed is a brief note from your omega that she has requested to attach:

Dear sir,

I hope that you are well. I have been told that you have not decided if you will come for me, but I ask that you please do. I have been waiting, but they have told me I cannot wait anymore, and I do not know what will happen to me if you don’t come. I promise that I’ll be good if you do.

And at the bottom, in a pristine and swirly pen, and kindly, her signature, there for him to see. The name of the woman, or girl, who seems to have taken all of Joel’s choices from him. He follows the letters with the nail of his thumb, scratching at the ink as if he could make it disappear, make the reality of this poor thing out there in the world waiting for him, disappear.

At the outbreak of the designations, twelve years ago, there had been mass hysteria, mass chaos, a terrible uncertainty of how the world could continue on, segregated into biological designations as it had suddenly become. Thought to be a product of the dwindling population rates, some whispered a government experiment gone awry, a freak genetic mutation had begun to appear within the biological markers of certain people.

Designations: Alpha, Beta, Omega.

It was not that society had unfolded, lost sight of itself, it was more so that from one day to the next, a new and unknown sort of hierarchy had been established, those that were, those that were not. Those that could live their lives as they’d always done, unruled by their biological urges, and those now marked as something new and different and set by a different sort of mandates.

Joel had been one of these people.

The designations had become controlled, weaponized, systemized, almost immediately. Almost. Before the government had mobilized and taken stock and hold of the situation, there had been a momentary lapse of order. Chaos wearing the names and faces of the people he’d once known, people that should have been safe or protected, protective. The true nature of the dynamics were quickly revealed. Obvious: an unmated alpha in need of an omega was a volatile thing, quick to aggression, hungry for violence. Less so: an omega, once thought self sufficient, independent, autonomous, was found to be at times fragile, vulnerable, full of necessity. Both connected by that string of desperation that could only be soothed in a pairing of the two. The desperate drama of being no longer only yourself.

It should have been an obvious thing, the mutation, a byproduct of the dwindling population levels, reproduction rates, was in service of something that would correct this misdirection of nature. Alphas and omegas were, are, idealized pairings for one another in terms of reproduction, in terms of biological pairings. It should have been obvious that this would be wielded as a means of control. It should have been obvious that this was an untenable situation that would cast people into roles that left no choice for autonomy, for freedom.

It should have been obvious to Joel, who almost immediately, and even though he had been well into adulthood, a father to a young daughter, presented as an alpha, growing pains once again this late into his life. It should have been obvious that this was a situation that should have necessitated greater care, vigilance, protection. After all, this was the role of an alpha. He should have listened to this new nature of his that was suddenly, demandingly, presenting itself, acted quicker, stronger, with more wisdom. But he’d failed, he’d continued to fail for years to come after that terrible night when the world had turned back to its base nature in a hedonistic attempt for the preservation of humanity.

Alphas were immediately feared, ostracized, and above all else, obvious. A designation was not a thing a person could hide, especially not an alpha, the truth of their nature. Many were gunned down in the streets at the start, imprisoned, experimented on and sold, debased and tortured. They’d been caught, him and Sarah, separated from Tommy trying to escape the madness. She had, in her innocence and without designation, still only herself, still only his little girl, been caught in the crossfire of a world's desire to tame or trap something it could not understand.

Joel had, in many and the worst of ways, been caught in the crossfire too.

With time, years and the sort of suffering that can only be forced upon anything that is different or out of the norm, a system had been created. Government mandated programs, laws, registries that kept track of the designations. A hierarchy in which those that were essentially and biologically considered stronger than what a normal human should be, were ostracized, exiled, denigrated, muzzled, and those that would be considered weakest, left without any voice at all, without freedom either.

The Federal Alpha/Omega Pairing Program had been established for the continued preservation and furthering of reproductive rates. A registry was created in which all those with the designation either alpha or omega had to present themselves on, biological markers determined, all choices stripped. The program served as a match making machine, when two biological markers presented themselves as compatible, as mates of one another, an omega was assigned to an alpha for keeping. To do with as they’d see fit.

He had gotten word of her only last year. Twelve years of solitude, of nothing, of running from a girl with green eyes he’d not been able to protect and the reality of himself he detested, the what and why of who he was. He’d left Austin, wandered and hidden and groveled in the dirt like a worm until he’d finally found a quiet place to settle. A place alone, undisturbed. And for so long, he’d not been happy, surely, but he had been. Joel had been.

He looks down at the letter in his hand, dragging his thumbnail over the swoop and slope of her signature once again. This was a person who, as mandated by law or biology or fucking whatever, had been deemed as his. His other half, mate, ball and chain. The terrible reminder of what he really was and could not escape, in the form and shape of his perfect opposite.

Last year, when he’d gotten word of her existence, that she’d reached the age of twenty one and was now ready and available for his retrieving, he’d balled up the letter and thrown it with such weightless force into the fireplace in his living room that the air filled wad of paper had fallen limp and nothingful just shy of the flames, rolling in the ashes and dust, coating the reality of this imposed, undesired fate in dark soot. He’d been so angry he’d gone out and howled at the moon like the beast the world would have themselves believe he truly was.

He did not want to be an alpha. He did not want an omega. He did not want to live off the coast of Clallam Bay alone in this house he’d built with his bare hands because he had no other use of them now, no other function or purpose or meaning. He did not want it to be now, he wanted it to be twelve years ago. He wanted to still be a father.

He did not want to be an alpha.

He did not want an omega.

He crumples the letter in his fist, looking out at the bay over the edge of the cliffs from where the cabin is perched. From his spot on the deck he can see as far out as the sea allows, sight stopping suddenly as if the edge of the world had dropped off a ledge. Sometimes he longed, so, so badly, to go find that edge, to drop off it as well. He had only tried once. Never again. The grizzle of scar tissue at his temple, a testament to yet another one of his failures.

The first summons had come two weeks before her twenty-first birthday, and he’d laughed, after the anger, he’d laughed. A girl-woman of only twenty one years, deemed of age, for the role the government or God had deemed her ready for, served up on a platter to him for his own ravaging. For the correction of what nature told was an anomaly that only their coming together could solve. It was sick, disgusting. He wanted no part of it. And so, despite the knowledge that this poor thing was out there, in some government facility, places they took omegas, many orphans, but also, oftentimes separating them from their families for so called safe keeping, just another word for kidnapping. Rearing and breeding and no choices, no choices for any of them ever.

He’d ignored it, turned a blind eye and a revolted heart away from it all, and shirked the supposed responsibilities he owed this omega who he knew nothing about, who knew nothing about him. But nature is, after all, a terrible and inescapable thing. And not even so much the nature of his designation, although that did, unfailingly, play a part in his demise, surely, but the nature of his character, of Joel’s heart, that was the true heavy player. He was not the sort of man who could turn away from someone who’d rely on him, who’d need him. A responsibility. That was, he convinced himself, all he should or could see her as. And for a year there’d been a sort of tugging of a string from behind his navel, an umbilical cord connecting him to his ignored fate. He hated it all. He wanted nothing to do with any of it. He wanted to rot in his aloneness and misery and bitterness, fester in the fear that lived around him from the world. It’s why he’d come here, it’s why he’d exiled himself. Balanced on the tightrope border between the Salish Sea and the Makah Reservation on this high and pristine cliffside cut from the crust of the earth; he was left entirely alone, at peace with only his own chaotic demons to torment him. He wanted it this way, he wanted this; please, please, he’d already given away so much, lost so much of himself. Should he also be forced into this too? To sacrifice the terrible peace of his solitude to save this poor creature that was being forced on him. He wanted to say no, that he didn’t give a fuck, that what would happen to her could, it was no business of his. But those words… another willing alpha, bidding pool, highest offer… they made him see, not even red, black, black and devastating anger or rage or something horrible and base, and what could only be a product of mother nature railing against him for ignoring what he truly was. Something that whispered terrible words of mine, mine, fucking mine. A hiss he did not recognize, did not want to admit he recognized.

He was old, weathered and beaten and past his prime. Unmated. At the end of his line and unmated and purposeless, and his bones were tired, but itching and clamoring within the confines of his skin that this was wrong, that he was wrong, and that he needed to right this immediately.

That she’s waiting, and dear sir, I do not know what will become of me if you do not come. I promise that I’ll be good if you do.

And so Joel goes to her because he knows she is waiting, because fate or purpose or nature is not a thing to be ignored forever.

“It’s her birthday today,” the caretaker says, voice ascetic and cold and direct. Not a voice, Joel thinks, for soft things; cadence that has his teeth on edge, hackles raised. “You’ve arrived just in time. She’s been asking for you, and we’d just set her name in the pool, ready to release for auction tomorrow.” That black rage muddies the corners of his vision, and he focuses on the cold shock of the blank white hallway they’re making their way down. Hospital-like, barren and hard, this place, facility, prison, they keep them in, the omegas in the program. He feels slightly sick, uninhibitedly angry as if his teeth would fall out of his skull, as if he could throw himself to the ground as a child throws a fit, spew his anger for the world to see how much he does not want this, how vehemently he’s opposed to it all.

“She may seem young and small, but she’s twenty two now. She’s ready, and she’ll take it as you wish. It’s what she was made for.”

Joel seriously considers, just for a moment, killing the cretinous little man beside him. Take it, he says as if he has any right to speak of you taking anything that Joel would give you, as if it’s any of his business, anything he could ever understand if the beta stench oozing off of him is any indication. He hums nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement. If he parts his teeth he’ll take out a chunk of flesh. He should behave, there are easily frightened things nearby.

White doors with a small circular window at the center line the hall on either side, endlessly down the length of the seemingly endless corridor. The caretaker, white scrubs, pristine like the rest of everything here, and Joel feels suddenly huge and bestial and brutish, marring and dirtying this place that is supposed to be of peace and quiet for the fragile things locked inside.

A terrible place that makes him desolately depressed. You’ve been here so long, and he had not come, and it’s all just one more tally of failure on his rap sheet.

When they finally stop before a singular door, the number fourteen emblazoned in large black, bold print just beneath the small viewing window, Joel suddenly feels– he can’t say for certain, he doesn’t know, or doesn't want to acknowledge the truth of the voices and sounds ringing in his ears, but he knows, recognizes it for the sound of the moment Sarah died all those years ago. His past and present suddenly clashing to meet here in this antiseptic white void, before the door to this fate that’s clamored in quiet waiting for exactly a year today. The sound of her voice, calling his name, saying it hurts, Tommy, his shouts ringing loud and then ebbing soft and as lifeless as she was while the reality of what they were living came to pass before Joel too, could realize. He’d left too, his brother, ran from the truth of Joel at the first easy opportunity. And she’s just there, her voice and her eyes and the feel of her is just there in his mind, on the tip of the tongue of his memory, and then the man opens the door and then there you are.

He feels worse now, hulking, deformed, malformed like he was born wrong. “I’ll give you a moment,” the man says low, that cold voice monotone and almost too quiet to bear now. Joel feels he needs something loud and shocking. He fears he won’t fit through the door. “It’s better if you meet for the first time without distractions. She knows you’re coming.”

He thinks he asks if you’re sleeping, he can’t be sure, but he feels the vibrations of his throat work, his jaw move as if it’d come unhinged, his tongue swollen in his mouth, gums fat and painful, full of bile and terrible memories, and he is a badly made thing in need of some goodness in this moment. And then a shift of the small lump beneath the blankets, the reality of the moment snaps into focus, he steps inside the white box cage you’re kept in. The door shuts behind him, and then it is only him, the thing he would not be, and you, the thing he would not want.

He doesn’t decide it until he finally peers into your eyes, that he can’t, will not, keep you.

Wide, luminous and wet, but not afraid, wholly curious, peering up at him from above the edge of a thick wool blanket. Something drab and gray and stiff looking that immediately sets him on edge, brings that anger back, just the simple sight of the blanket. The two of you stare at each other in silence, the weight of that thing that tells of what you are, sitting heavy between the two of you as he looks down at you from his great height, presence that should be intimidating and cowing, looming over your prone and small form on the bed. But despite his stance, something swelling within him causing him to puff up like an angry dog and want to bear his teeth at you, despite the curtain of tears in your eyes, there’s nothing of the stench of fear.

He shuts his eyes to the sight of you, huffing long and bullish through his nose, mistake, the scent of you, God, help me, and he listens to the rustle and shift of the blankets, opens his eyes to see a little nose peeking out from beneath the gray, drab thing to sniff primly at the air he’s now filling with his presence.

Soft and warm and woman, the smell of a cunt that belongs to him. That’s what it is at its basest. More complexly: vanilla, bergamot, juniper berries, sweat and fever and salt. Taking a plunge off the cliffside, bypassing the sharp teeth of rocks that would kill you, waiting for the dark ice shock of sea and finding nothing but molten life. This is what you smell like.

Worst of all, there is something in you that smells of him. His, yes, but not what he means, not his, him. Something that smells of recognition, like the two of you are the same.

Something chained inside of him rattles at the bars of its cage, desperate to be let out and quenched.

He steps back, frightened at your movement, at the reality of what the two of you are, so obvious here in this cage, at your perking up, your recognition of who and what he is, what he’s come for. You don’t speak, but you tell him. You wriggle beneath the covers, shimmying to turn and face him more fully, still clutching the blanket up high over your mouth, still covering half of your face, and he wants to bark at you to let him see, that he needs to see, but he grinds his teeth together. Molars going to dust down his throat, muscle wrapped around his mandible strung so tight he fears the fibers of it might burst and pop.

You settle on your side facing him now, and then something to beguile him, to bring him to his knees muzzled and obedient and calm, the sweetest, sultry little crooning cry. Something provoking, alluring, something to beckon him to you in surrender and acceptance and welcome, come from your chest up your throat to his ears. He jerks back at the sound, your big eyes still expectant and wet but demanding now. I am here waiting for you. I have been here waiting for you. Come now. He steps back to your bedside, a too small, too stiff metal railed cot he’s going to wrap around that fucking guard, caretaker, idiot, whatever he is when he comes back, falls to his knees, and your little fingers peek out and up and over the edge of the blanket now. And you surprise him doubly, tenfold, more than he can comprehend – but he already decided he will not keep you, he already made up his mind – when you say: “You came. You remembered me.”

He could never have forgotten.

A low hum, a sound to make your eyelids flutter and your legs shift beneath the heavily draped blankets. “Today’s your birthday, sweetheart, is it? Would you like to come home with me as your gift?”

He could never have forgotten.

The house that the large man who you’d waited your whole life and then a year for, brings you to – and you can’t be entirely sure, for you’ve so little experience or knowledge – but from what you can think you’re feeling now, from what you can decide, is lovely.

He had taken you in a car, a truck, you like the sound of the word, —ck, —ck, —ck, and driven a long while, through the big city which you’d seen little of, between forest and beside sea, and then finally up a long and winding road and more forest, more trees and green than you’d ever seen in your entire life, until you’d come to a cliffside, the backyard a drop off of air and rock and endless dark water, and a small house perched just there at the edge. Wooden slats, weather beaten and salt lashed, a copper sloped roof, and two pert chimneys, despite the not large area of the house, cabin. It looks, very much, as if it had grown straight from the cliff rock, sprouted by the forest, strong bones that spoke resolutely of remaining where they were no matter how hard the wind howled.

“How did it get here?” You ask the man, alpha, who’s name is Joel who has finally come for you after a life and a year of waiting.

“I made it,” and his voice is rough and demanding of attention, demanding of you, even if you don’t know, although, you do understand, what it is he’s demanding.

And you think, yes, of course. It looks a little, a lot, like him. Obvious, that it came from him.

It would be easy to think that you’re nothing but young and stupid and untried. Just a little omega kept in a cage. But you feel, after this life, not life, of being you and the thing you are, that you’re none of those things despite it all. You had lived, you had been out in the world at one time, even if briefly, even if only as a child, green and inexperienced and innocent, and although you still remain all those things, you had been out there at one point. You had never had a mother or a father, dead when you were an infant, killed in the outbreak, but you had lived with your aunt, your mother’s, many years older, sister, until you’d been ten years old. So you see, and he should see too, this man now before you, this alpha, that you were untried and inexperienced and young compared to him, but you’d had a decade of real life, even if it was the life of a child, even if afterwards it was a not life, but the before, that counted very, very much to you and so deserved respect and acknowledgement. And he should see that, although you do not know, you do understand.

After your aunt had died, and they’d taken you, first to the orphanage, and then to the place for omegas, after you’d started to mature and develop, perhaps that real life had ended. Or been put on hold, waiting for him, this alpha who seems, for all intents and purposes and from what you can gather from his sullen silence and dark looks, nothing like pleased at your presence here now. But then there was the: today’s your birthday, sweetheart, is it? And yes, yes it is your birthday.

It’s your birthday, and you’re free. And yes, you’d lived the not life in the white box for so long, and yes, you are, in fractions, so afraid and knowing so little of the world, but you do know that you want to live and to see the sky.

You want to see the sky every single day.

His big clunking truck rolls to a slow stop before the house, a wide deck wrapping around the entire boxed thing of it, and he starts to move, unclipping his belt, grabbing the bag he’d brought with him stuffed with his clothes he’d promptly tucked and folded you into when he’d shuffled you into the cabin of his truck, and you’d been all thank you, sir, to which he’d given a shake of his head, only Joel. Only Joel. No other words, no other directions, only his hands pulling your strings like a puppet. You had accepted it for the chance to feel his touch, to familiarize yourself with the closeness of him.

You want to know things. You want to know him.

He’d barely said a word the entire drive here, but you could be patient, and they’d prepared you for this, after all. They’d prepared you long and well and told you all they thought you’d need to know. So you find yourself, and not at all shockingly, as you’d waited so long for this, for him, for freedom and the sky, and look, now there’s even sea too, not even a little bit afraid, only anticipatory in bated breath, stuttering heart, excitement.

You had never seen the sea before, and you want to know things. You want to know him.

He jumps heavy and thudding form the truck, and you start to shift, something suddenly frantic and clawing rolling in your chest when you realize he’s leaving the confines of the small space the two of you had found yourselves encased in together, the warm heat from the vents blowing his smell, his smell, all around you. You’d never encountered anything like it before. Salted vetiver and warm cardamom, something sweet and musked and heavy like what your fingers taste like after you’ve pet long and needy at that soft wet place between your legs when the hurt was so tight you felt nothing would sate it. It’s a scent that you think would devastate to have taken away now that you’ve tasted it. And it’s everywhere as the two of you’d sat in his staunchly imposed silence on the truck ride to this place he was bringing you to, his home at what seems like the end of the world. It’s in your nose and down your throat, heavy and cloying and sweet on your tongue, wrapping around your waist and covering your skin and your hands so that you’d even pressed your palms entirely over your face and rubbed yourself like a cat, coating yourself in him.

The door slams, bringing you out of his scent induced reverie and back to the present, and you scramble to undo your buckle too, even though when he’d clipped it for you he’d very sternly said to not take it off, desperate to follow him wherever he’d go. But you realize quickly he’s coming around the front of the truck to your door, and then he’s there pulling it open and letting in a biting gust of wind come off the sea and up the cliffside to slash you across the face with its icy rancor. You shiver, teeth clattering and chattering in your mouth, trying to gather the blankets he’d cocooned you in, his too big, so soft clothes, more tightly around yourself, and find your feet.

He gives a rough but soothing noise, and easy as anything, plucks you up and out of the seat and into his arms, kicking the door closed behind him as he goes. Into his arms. You hold yourself stiff and wide eyed, chewing on the tips of your frozen cold fingers, and staring at him this closely, it’s shocking. Large, had been the first thing. Tall and broad and thick the way they’d said alphas are. This you had expected. The rest, you had not. The eyes, you think, more than anything. His eyes, a strange mix of hazel and brown, but dark. Eyes, that even in your greenness, you can recognize as sad and angry. And the creases at the corners, between his brows, the gray threaded through the lush, dark curls and at the corners of the hair along his jaw. He looks like he would be someone’s father. The patch of bare skin, heart shaped, amongst the whiskers. He’s beautiful, and unthinkingly, or perhaps entirely intentional, you stick out one of your saliva soaked fingers and poke him gently there, only a small prod, to feel what the heart feels like. His gait stops instantly, that permanent frown he’d worn since you’d first laid eyes on him, deepening. “Don’t do that,” he gruffs, continuing his steps up the porch now, the dark, heavy boots you’d noted as he’d taken you from the facility falling thunk, thunk on the wooden boards beneath. He’d not given you shoes of your own. And at his tone, the grumpy look, you have the inexplicable urge to laugh. To laugh at him. Surly, you want to tease, but swallow it, itchy fingertips back into the warmth of your mouth to stop yourself from touching again.

Another gust blows against the two of you as he somehow transfers you, cradled into only one arm, to pull the jingle of keys from his pocket, and you’re jarred with painful shivers, huddling closer into the unbelievably broad expanse of his chest, the unbelievably steaming warm slab. At the touch of your cheek against his collarbone you realize all he’s wearing is a simple, green flannel, no coat, nothing warm. “Aren’t you cold?” It seems suddenly, supremely important you ask, head shooting back up. He peers down his nose at you, finally getting the door open, and his eyes are a very peculiar sort of dark, you cock your head at him, a very strange sort of creature this man is, who’s come to collect you, who you’d waited all your life and a year for.

“I’m fine,” he says.

You don’t believe him.

He sets you down on a large, dark leather sofa, chocolate, the hide smooth and worn and lived in. The rest of the house, not only a house, also a home, for it’s obvious in the way of his things, the way they’re arranged and fixed and the way they too live here, not only exist here. I’ll be like that too, you think. It’s all comfortable, it’s all warm, like a den and a place to relax and be protected, juxtaposed by the sight beyond the large windows, nothing but dark, violent sea as you’ve never before seen.

He really had found a perch at the edge of the world, brought you here to perch as well.

There’s a large fireplace, inlaid with large slabs of dark stone and thick beams of wood, and yes, this too is also obvious in a peculiar and particular way. The house very much looks like it was made by the hands of a single man in some way that you cannot specifically say, but can obviously see the truth of. He made this house, and then he came for you and now he’s brought you here, and you feel, suddenly, so pleased and warm and right. Everything feels so, so right. You sigh dreamily, suffused at once with a tight, deep heat at the pit of your belly, the scent of him everywhere, bubbles floating up from the bottom of you and seeming to pop out your ears. You lean back into the deep couch, wiggling this way and that, rubbing your bottom into the soft cushions to snuggle up, bringing the neck of his sweater he’d put you in up to your nose to breathe deep and long.

He’s moving around, arranging things this way and that, a thick log in the slumbering coals, a pillow here, another blanket atop you, not looking at you, setting a wide berth once he’s settled the throw, not talking to you. It’s fine, let him do as he pleases and needs, you’ll sit here and watch. You can tell he doesn’t like to talk, that words cost him something, and you know so little, but you understand this. Words do cost something, truths, the truth of your before life and your not life. The truth of those realities cost. So, yes, you understand, and he doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to yet. And looking at him, you realize that everything inside of you feels soft and bruised and little. And yet, despite all that, ready, in want and need of him. Ready to be big.

Joel.

You must say the word out loud, his name, for he stops and finally turns to face you. There is something vibrational within him. Different. You’ve never seen a creature as such. You’d never seen an alpha before, not since you’d presented, you’ve never been around one. The caretakers were all always betas, people who would not be affected by the omega’s presence and fluctuations.

He swallows once, twice, twitches and jerks and heaves a big sigh. He’s so full of energy as you, suddenly, in opposition, feel so sleepy and drowsy and ready to close your eyes and only feel warm and relaxed. You like his house, you might love it, even.

Your eyelids droop low, slow blinks, and you watch his face fold into a frown. You want to laugh, he does that so much. They’d said that alphas could have big tempers, that they could be brash and aggressive and loud, but that the omega would naturally temper that. You think it may be true because as you watch him through the weave of your lashes, his frown deepening the longer he stares at you slowly drowsing on his couch which you hope he’ll never make you move from, the jitters and the shakes and the trembling that he’d seemed, just a moment ago, to be so full of, begin to quietly abate.

He takes a step toward you, another and another until his shins meet the edge of the sofa, and you snuggle deeper into the cushions, making yourself into as little a ball as possible, so full of sleepiness.

“How do you feel?”

“I like your house so much,” you slur, head drooping, lashes drooping.

He clicks his tongue, makes that rumbly noise you think is an alpha thing because it has your eyes suddenly clicking open, sleep haze clearing momentarily so that you can look up at him again, and he’s looking at you so peculiarly. You scrunch your nose up at him, there’s no need to look at you so, you’re only an omega, only a little tired, nothing to stare at so strangely.

“I’m–” he clears his throat, makes that rumble, growl, huff sound again, “I’m glad you like it. I wanted you to be comfortable while you’re here.”

And oh, he’s so nice, you tell him, and, “I am. I’m so comfortable.” You melt further into the couch, and he crouches down to peer at you more directly, pulling a soft pillow from the opposite end and tucking it under your head, the large, rough cup of his paw cradling your skull, big fingers weaving through your hair. He arranges you so gently, like he’d take care of you. Like you’re here, finally, finally, you’re here to be taken care of.

It’s what they’d said would happen, and you’d waited so long. You’d waited too long to be let out of the white box, for him to come, to see the sky. And now there was so much; of him, of the house, of the sky, of your whole life and the sea.

You nuzzle your head into his big hand, the heat of it searing your scalp, your ear tucked into his palm. “Brave girl,” he hums. He has such a deep voice, a good voice for an alpha, you think, a very good voice. You feel it vibrating in your toes and in your eyelashes and in your belly. “You’ve been through a great deal, haven’t you?” You want to say yes, you want to remind him that you’d waited for him for so very long, and that when you woke up, if you remembered, you’d be very cross with him for taking so long to come for you.

“You rest now,” he says. “It’s all alright now.” Yes, a very good voice.

2. More Intelligent Than a Face

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lonelyharmonies · 1 year

Text

just friends

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

pairing: jaehyun x fem reader type: fluff, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au (or kinda), college au, word count: 22k warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive sometimes a/n.: hello friends!! this story here is my baby, the first full fic i've ever written 💚 3 years later i still love it as the first time i've posted it. i hope you enjoy it as much as i do. if you think you have read this story before, youprobably did, this is a repost. not very much edited so you might find some mistakes, i apologize!

The sunlight peeking through the curtains meets your face and you wake up as soon as your cheeks get warm. You didn’t remember your bed being this comfortable. A foreign smell invades your nostrils but you don’t mind for a moment. The perfume had notes of lavender and it was sort of strong, but you didn’t mind, deciding to put your head further into the pillow, capturing more of that pleasant scent.

A few minutes later, you open your eyes and it takes a while for you to realize it isn’t your bedroom. Neither is your cousin’s. You have no idea where and why you are here. The room is small but cozy, way different from your own. You can see some heavy books on the shelves next to you and a box full of vinyl.

You turn your head to the right to find a naked back facing you. Analyzing the body proportions and the room you were in, you assumed it was a boy.

What happened to you? Why were you sleeping with a stranger?

You tried to remember the events from last night.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s gonna be fun!” “I don’t like frat parties, Taeyong.” you repeat the same line “Plus, I am really tired. Do you know how many assignments I have due next week? And tutoring is killing. Some students really push my buttons.” “See? You are so stressed! A couple of beers will do you good.”

Then, you remembered the noise. A lot of noise. You see flashes from the previous night events: there were people dancing, Mark Lee spilling his drink on you, and a shirtless Yuta dancing on the top of the kitchen’s counter. The only thing that wasn’t clear on your mind was how you ended up in this room.

Your cousin was in front of you, clearly drunk. You knew he was a lightweight. He knew he was a lightweight. That was probably the reason why Taeyong would always try to find a way to drag you to the parties with him: to clean the mess he makes. “I can’t drive you back, pumpkin. I’m sorry,” He said, bringing his hands to cup his face, as a way to act cute, but spilling his drink on the floor in the process. “Well, I’m already aware of this. You don't even have a license.” You felt your head spinning. Taeyong smiles and focuses on something behind you “I’ll call an Uber. Or maybe I should just walk,” You fished your phone out of your pocket, but your cousin took it away from you. “No, no. Don’t go home now.” He waved at someone while you tried to get your phone back. “You should enjoy this party. How long haven’t you made out with someone?” “LEE TAEYONG!” You and Johnny, who had placed an arm on your shoulders, shouted at the same time. “and The Cousin!” “Can she sleep here tonight, Johnny? She’ll sleep in my room” Taeyong asked and Johnny screamed “Sure” while you tried to scold the other boy. “Lee Taeyong, come back here. Who said I agreed-” you tried to grab your cousin’s arm but he deflected your touch and went straight to a group of girls. “Hey, hey, Y/N. “ Johnny called your attention. “Relax.” He handed you a shot glass full of a transparent liquid “The night has just started.”

While you were trying to remember what happened the night before, the man that is lying beside you wakes up. Jaehyun turns around and lays his eyes on your figure. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, but the scream that left your mouth once you met his gaze made Jaehyun realize it wasn’t a dream.

You get so startled that you lean backward as Jaehyun tries to hold your arm to keep you in place.

“Be careful, you’re gonna hurt-”

You don’t finish listening to his sentence as your body hits the ground with a loud thud. If you were sleepy before, falling out of the bed made you feel completely awake. You knocked your head on the bedside table and groaned quite loudly.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He says from his bed, looking at your lying figure on the floor.

Now that you could see the stranger’s face, you just wished to go back to sleep. Dying was also a good option. Not even in your wildest dreams, you would imagine waking up next to Jeong Jaehyun after getting dead drunk at one of his fraternity’s parties.

You met Jaehyun when your cousin dragged you to your first frat party two years ago. You were getting some drinks in the kitchen when you laid your eyes on him playing beer pong with Yuta. You didn’t know a guy could look so attractive just by drinking beer wearing an all-black outfit. Ever since, you admired him from afar, never failing to be awestruck by his nice features. You never got the courage to talk to Jaehyun, but it all changed when your cousin insisted that you should help his friend Johnny.

“He is just trying to learn a new language.” Taeyong would blatantly answer every time you questioned his friend’s sudden interest in taking Spanish classes. At the time, you were working for the Language Center at your university, so the two boys were constantly pestering you to sign Johnny up for the Spanish course and they only stopped once you gave in. It didn’t take you long to find out the reason why Johnny was so persistent: Mrs. García, or Isabela García, the senior student that taught the course: Spanish for Speakers of Other Languages. She was very sweet, smart, and popular among everyone on Campus and, apparently, Johnny was trying to have his shot with her while getting extra credits. Eventually, you became closer. Not only because of your shared class but because Taeyong was your mutual friend. It was after one of your classes that you formally met Jaehyun for the first time, six months after seeing him in that party for the first time. He was waiting outside, a tray with coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other. “I can’t believe you thought it was a good idea to try to make a pickup line in Spanish.” you sighed loudly. “You can barely introduce yourself. Plus, she’s your teacher, keep it in your pants.” “Please, I was amaz- OH, whassup Jeffrey?!” Johnny spotted his friend waiting for him “This is my boring classmate Y/N. Y/N, this is Jaehyun.” “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said sheepishly, avoiding to look at his face. “Nice to meet you too.” “Today I said to Isabella that she was “La chica más Bella I’ve ever seen.” You know, Isabella and all-” “I don’t speak Spanish, Johnny.” the guy mumbled and you suppressed a smile. “- and even though I couldn’t say the whole sentence in Spanish, she smiled at me and said I was sweet. I bet she loved it.” “I clearly remember her disgusted face when she asked you to keep doing the exercise.” “You're lying to make me look bad.” “She wouldn’t need to lie, Hyung,” Jaehyun said, making you giggle.

After that meeting, you did talk to each other, but never alone. It was either at their fraternity parties or at lunch when he would join you, Johnny, and Taeyong. Now, you had slept in his bed and didn’t even remember how you ended up there.

“I have no idea how I ended up on your bed. I am so, so sorry, Jaehyun.” you clumsily start standing up and finding your way to the door. “I-I swear I would never sleep with you.”

You realize what you said and widened your eyes regretting your words. The boy, on the other hand, only chuckles and stays laid down on his bed, finding quite amusing your flustered and messy state.

“Ouch, it kinda hurts my pride”

“I mean- I don’t mean like that. You are very attrac-” you stop yourself and shake your hand in front of your body “What I mean is, of course, I would sleep with- NO!” you stop, taking a deep breath.

Why couldn’t you come up with a simple sentence? You decide to focus on the Mickey Mouse plushie on the top of his shelf and start again.

“This is so embarrassing! What I’m trying to say is-”

Jaehyun’s laughter stops you. He runs his hands through his fingers as he sits on his bed, with the comforter only covering his bottom parts, torso completely exposed.

“I think you mean that you wouldn’t take advantage of me.”

“Yes! Yes. That’s exactly what I was trying to say.” you quickly agree, averting your gaze from his figure.

“I also have no idea how you ended up here.” Jaehyun states, grabbing a black t-shirt from the ground “but I’m sure nothing happened because I went to bed early last night. And alone.” he emphasizes the last part “Were you at the party?”

“Yeah,” you answered while looking at your feet and end up taking a glance at your stained shirt.

The stain on your shirt makes you realize how fucked up you must look. You also smell terrible. Why was this happening to you? There were so many bedrooms in this house, why did you end up precisely in his?

“I had a few drinks last night…”

“A few?” he raises an eyebrow curiously.

“Maybe too many.” you scratch the back of your head and keep looking down.

Then, the awkward silence comes. You, standing there, in the middle of the room, like a statue in the middle of the room and Jaehyun a few steps away from you. It fazed you how he managed to look charming even after just waking up.

“So, uh… The door…” he says motioning to the door behind you, snapping you back to reality.

“Oh, yes, sure. I’m sorry.” you turn back and open the door.

Luck being on your side, the first thing you see as you get out of the room is your friend, Johnny, holding a puzzled look on his face.

“Isn’t it Jaehyun’s…”

“Yes.”

You grumble and turn to your left, heading to the staircase, not giving Johnny enough time to make questions.

"Did you sleep together?” he asks Jaehyun loud enough for you to hear by the end of the hall.

“NO,” both of you say at the same time.

Actually, you screamed from the top of the staircase and Jaehyun mumbled beside Johnny. “I think she’s not really interested.” he completes with a sarcastic note, chuckling.

“Why was she coming out of your room? How did that happen?”

“Did you smell her clothes? She was probably dead drunk last night.”

By the time the boys reached the messy living room, you were already opening the front door.

“At least drink a cup of coffee” Johnny offers and you shake your head.

“Tell Taeyong I went back to the dorms,” you say, stepping outside and shutting the door as fast as you could.

“Let me drive-” Johnny starts but you close the door before he could finish “you.”

The two boys head to the kitchen and start preparing their breakfast. Johnny places a cup of coffee in front of Jaehyun who smiles and silently thanks him. The next one to wake up is Yuta, who walked down the stairs inexplicably happy for someone who should have a hangover.

"Care to explain why this house is so noisy on a Saturday morning?” he calls the room’s attention to himself. “I hear too many voices.”

“There was a misunderstanding,” Jaehyun mumbles.

“What do you mean?” Yuta raised an eyebrow at the younger and Johnny giggled.

“Y/N woke up on Jaehyun’s bed this morning.”

“What, Taeyong’s cousin?” he turns to Johnny who nods “She slept with you?” Yuta gaps at the younger boy “So she finally admitted she-”

“YUta” Johnny interrupts him “I was joking.”

“She was just really drunk and ended up in my room last night,” the youngest says, munching his cereal “When she got there I was already asleep. I didn’t spend a lot of time at the party last night. I have three projects to hand in this month. They are tiring me out.”

“So, Y/N really slept with you?” Yuta asked again.

“In my room,“ Jaehyun corrects. “Well, if you excuse me, I’ll go to the gym.” he gives them a small smile and leaves the kitchen.

“Yuta, you almost said Y/N likes Jaehyun!” Johnny whispers-yells at Yuta.

“Well, it’s not like she knows how to hide her crush.”

“So you’re telling me that you slept with Jeong Jaehyun?” your roommate asks after you finished telling her about the events of the previous night.

You sigh loudly and shove her hands from your hair. “Did you listen to what I said? I slept on his bed because I was drunk and probably thought I was entering Taeyong’s room.”

“Come back here, I didn’t finish drying your hair.” she pulls you back by your shoulders “It would have been nice if you had slept with him. I heard stories about Jaehyun…”

“You should stop gossiping around,” You roll your eyes.

“Don’t pull up this act, I know you love it when I spill all the tea for you,” she pulls your hair with unnecessary strength, making you groan “Some girls say he really knows how to use his tongue, you know…” she says, pointing down at your lower body and you hit her hand.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you say in disgust. “Plus, I don’t know how so many people know how Jaehyun is in bed. He looks really reserved and quiet.“

“The quiet ones are the worst, my friend.” your roommate says before blowing air on your right ear, making you yank away from her.

It was midday when you decided to open your laptop and get some work done. You have three essays due to Thursday and you haven’t even started. It was now your third year and the pressure on your shoulders was getting heavier each day. You’re a good student, excellent grades, the professors love you, but after spending all those years studying communication, you still don’t know what you want to do with your life.

Taeyong always says that your problem is that you are too afraid to take the first step. Deep down, you know what you want, you’re just too afraid to pursue it.

Not even twenty minutes after starting your assignment, you hear a special ringtone and see your cousin’s face on your phone’s screen.

“I’ll stop calling you pumpkin and I’ll ask Sicheng if you can have his nickname,” Taeyong says as soon as you pick up the call.

“Who is Sicheng?”

“Winwin” he replied and you hummed acknowledging. He was a Chinese exchange student who lived with your cousin last year.

“And why would I want to be called Winwin?”

“Because a little bird told me you managed to hook up with Jaehyun. That’s not even a regular win, you deserve a fucking Olympic gold medal for finally going for him.”

You sighed loudly and groaned at your cousin’s words. Did you really think they would keep quiet about this morning’s accident? All the gossips of the campus either start or finish in the damn frat house. They love gossiping.

"I know your little bird is six feet tall and goes by Johnny,” you say in annoyance. “Couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?”

“It’s like I always say, Cousin,” you hear Johnny’s faint voice, apparently he was far from the microphone “Once the tea’s ready, we need to spill it. But in fact, no. It wasn’t me.”

“First, I’m not your Cousin, Johnny,” you say, clearing your throat. “Second, you should spill your fucking tea correctly then,” you growl at him which makes both men laugh at the other end of the line. “We didn’t sleep together - I mean, we did sleep together but-”

“I KNEW IT! I told you I heard weird noises coming from the kitchen.”

You hear a high pitched voice coming from your cousin’s side. You will kill Taeyong as soon as you get a chance.

“Taeyong, is this Donghyuck? That demon? How many people are listening to this phone call?” you lower your voice and feel your cheeks getting hot. Either from embarrassment or anger. (It was probably both).

“Only me, Johnny, Hyuck and Mark.” he simply states, making you huff in annoyance. ONLY four people discussing about your life.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME, THEN?” you scream and hear a bang on your wall, warning you about the noise. “Sorry!” you scream again to apologize. “You said Mark is there? Hey, Mark!”

“Hi, Y/N. I’m still very sorry about your shirt. I promise to buy you a new one,” he says closer to the phone.

“It’s okay, sweetie. My roommate knows how to clean the stain.”

“Why do you call Mark sweetie and call me a demon? Hyuckie is sad,” Donghyuck says, faking a cute voice.

“Cut the crap, demon. You don’t deserve my love and affection.” you say looking back at your open laptop, realizing you won’t be able to focus anymore “By the way, what does the noise have to do with me? It could have been literally anyone.”

“Well, I heard that you guys spent the whole night, you know… Having fun. Even on the kitchen counter,” the youngest says suggestively ,making you gasp.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? HEARD FROM WHO? THAT’S A LIE”

“That’s why I called, we needed to confirm the story,” Taeyong says laughing at your reaction.

“STOP LAUGHING! THIS IS NOT FUN” you hear your dorm neighbor punching your wall again and you snap “I’M BEING DEFAMED, ABIGAIL. GIVE ME A BREAK.” you scream towards the wall she has just punched.

“Abigail should just buy earplugs. She gets irritated by any sound you make.” you hear your cousin mumbling.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Taeyong.” you warn him “I am seriously so mad at you. Especially you, Johnny. I’m sure Jaehyun explained the whole incident.”

“She’s really mad, isn’t she?” someone whispers and the rest of them giggle.

“I can hear you.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun told me you were drunk and ended up in his bed, but who knows what happened before the sun came out.” Johnny giggles.

“NOTHING happened, for your information. I didn’t have sex on the kitchen counter” and you make sure to quickly answer “OR on Jaehyun’s bed. I didn’t hook up with that man, please, stop getting on my nerves.”

“Sicheng can keep being Winwin, she’s still a loser.” you hear Donghyuck snickering at his joke.

“But why did you go to Jaehyun’s room, though?” Mark asks.

“My drunk-self probably thought it was Taeyong’s,” you answer and throw yourself on your bed.

The line stayed silent for some seconds, the boys were whispering something to themselves but you couldn’t understand anything they were saying.

“Hello?”

“So, dear cousin.” he has just started and you could already assume he was trying to hold back his laughter.

“Do you know your cousin’s bedroom is the first room on the right?” Johnny asks and you hum in response.

“Jaehyun hyung stays at the end of the hall, dude..." Mark continues.

“On the left,” Donghyuck adds.

“Are you insinuating I went there on purpose?” you ask them “I was drunk!”

“You know what they say, noona,” you hear Donghyuck’s “drunk actions are sober thoughts.”

“That’s not how it goes,” you mumble.

“We all know you like Jaehyun hyung.” you gasp at the youngest words. “It’s not like you make an effort to hide your crush on him. Even Yuta hyung knows it.”

“I promise I didn’t say anything to them,” Johnny says immediately

“Me neither.” Taeyong adds “But Hyuck made a good point, you’re not subtle.”

“Do you remember last Tuesday how she choked on her own saliva when Jaehyun offered her sour gummies?” Johnny added laughing.

“Stop mocking me.” you huffed. “Please, don’t make a big deal out of this. The situation itself is already embarrassing.”

“You should shoot your shot, Y/N.” Mark says in a supportive tone “If I hadn’t made the first move, I wouldn’t be dating now.”

“Yes, we support you.”

“If even Mark has a girlfriend, you can get that d- OUCH DON’T HIT ME”

“Plus, you already know each-”

“You’re not that bad-looking either-”

All the boys start speaking at the same time and you think you might go crazy. What are they talking about? Dating Jeong Jaehyun? It’s not like you were in love with the guy, it was only a crush, for heaven’s sake! You were only acquaintances and dating was definitely not your top priority right now. You hang up on the rambling boys at the same time your roommate comes back to your shared room.

“What happened? Abigail was complaining about you screaming at her,” she says closing the door and sitting beside you.

When Monday came, you instantly wished that it was Friday. You are woken up by a pillow being thrown at you, full force. The alarm on your phone must have been ringing for a while but you didn’t hear it.

“Good morning to you too, Jiwoo.” you groan.

“Turn this off,” she says covering her head with her comforter looking like a caterpillar. “What time are you free today? Wanna grab dinner?”

“Spanish class finishes at 7.” you yawn and stand up, finally getting enough strength to start your day.

You’ve been taking Spanish classes for a year and a half now. And even though Mrs. García graduated last semester, Johnny continued taking the classes, which positively surprised you.

“I’ll meet you at the Language Center, then.” she pokes her head out of her comfortable cocoon to whisper “You can invite that hot classmate of yours. The tall one.”

“I’m not gonna invite Johnny,” you say shaking your head and choosing your pair of jeans and t-shirt of the day “He will certainly embarrass me.”

“We’ve been living together for three years, is there anything about you I don’t know yet?” she says, now sitting on her bed. “Stop being selfish and help your lonely friend here.”

“Why Johnny, though?” you ask, turning your head to her “Remember how he signed up for the Spanish classes only because of the hot teacher?”

“Yeah, he’s a frat boy.” she says shrugging her shoulders “But it’s not like I want to marry him. It’s like Cyndi Lauper used to say...” she stands up and takes her phone out of the charger and ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ starts playing. You roll your eyes and smile at her.

“Alright, I’ll ask Johnny.” you close your drawer and open the bedroom’s door “Just turn it off before Abigail starts hitting our wall.”

Your morning classes went smoothly, no surprises. Some professors scheduled exams for next month and you made sure to add a reminder on your phone. At noon you went to the cafeteria to buy your lunch and ran to Mrs. Park’s office. She was one of the professors responsible for the Academic Writing course, and because of your excellent grades, she recommended you as a tutor. Despite being an elective subject, a lot of freshmen always signed up for it since it was very helpful during your undergraduate life.

Once you get into the long hall, you swallow the last piece of your sandwich and knock on her door. The old lady opened it with a smile, motioning for you to enter.

“How are you today, dear?” she says sitting on her chair and you mirror her action.

“I’m fine, thank you. Is everything alright, Mrs. Park? You called me here…” you say cautiously earning a giggle from the lady.

“Oh, don’t worry dear. I’m sorry if my email sounded so urgent, I just wanted to talk to you about your tutoring classes.” she types something on her laptop and looks back at you. “There are some foreign students in my class who might need help not only with the academic style but the language itself. I will ask you to be patient and take a closer look at them.”

“Of course! I haven’t tutored any foreign student yet, but I’ll gladly help them,” you say smiling.

“I’ll keep you updated with my lesson plans and their assignments…”

Your meeting with Mrs. Park was short and very pleasant, as always. She was kind enough to give you a cookie once you finished. You were now heading back to the main building, finding your way to the library where you would continue the assignments you postponed on Saturday. Too focused on arriving as soon as possible, you didn’t see a tall guy, holding three heavy books, coming in your direction and when you realized, it was too late to get out of his way. You met the floor, just like the books and some of his notes.

“I’m so sorry.” you start picking up the sheets of paper next to you “I didn’t see…” you only meet his eyes when the guy kneels and picks up one of the books on the floor.

“Hi, Y/N” Jaehyun’s lips stretched into a subtle smile, showing the dimples on his cheeks.

“Oh, hi! I’m so sorry for this mess.” you say, both standing up. “I didn’t see you there.”

“You’ve been apologizing a lot lately,” he comments, remembering your flustered state two days before.

“Sor-” you stop yourself before you could finish your apologies, again. Jaehyun giggles at you.

“You’re distracted, it happens.” he shrugs, smiling widely and you swore your heart was going to combust at that very moment. “Gotta go, see you around.”

You don’t even have time to answer, the boy was already at the end of the hall.

Some hours later and with an empty stomach, you finish your first essay and check the time. You had five minutes to get to class. Hurriedly, you gathered your belongings and ran across buildings to get there on time. Fortunately, the teacher wasn’t in class yet. But Johnny was.

“Señorita, muy tarde, ¿no?” he says and you roll your eyes “Our Spanish princess is late, I can’t believe it.”

“Stop being so annoying.” you say throwing your bag beside him, “I thought I was the Spanish queen. Did you declass me?”

“Now that that straight A student is gone, I gave it a second thought and I believe the queen title belongs to her,. But you're the second best," he says taking a pen and a notebook out of his backpack, making you raise an eyebrow. “I promised I wouldn’t copy your notes this semester.”

“I have to say I’m surprised. I didn’t think you would want to keep studying Spanish.“

"Why not?”

“I thought you only wanted to… you know… hang out with our teacher.” you hesitate.

“Since when is fuck a forbidden word?” he chuckles “Yes, I wanted to fuck her but I told you, I wanted to learn a new language too.”

“You didn’t need to be rude, Johnny,” you mumble and he laughs.

“Plus, I’m doing this for you too.” you give him a questioning look and he replies with a cheeky grin “So you can see Jaehyun’s face twice a week.”

“And here I was considering hooking you up with my roommate,” you say to him.

“What do you mean?”

“She invited you to have dinner with us tonight because she wants to flirt with you.” you say bored, looking at your wristwatch. “Isn’t the teacher a bit late?”

“Well, I’m free tonight, why don’t give your sweet roommate a chance?”

“Just, please, tone it down while I’m eating. I don’t want to be the third-wheel.”

You had a knife and you weren’t afraid to use it against Johnny right now. When he said he would make sure that you wouldn't be thirdwheeling, he didn’t mention it involved inviting Jeong Jaehyun.

“Is it a double date?” Jiwoon whispered in your ear when she saw the boy approaching your table.

“This is not a date,” you say behind your gritted teeth. “Johnny…” you look at the man in front of you and he smiles widely.

“So, Jiwoo, that’s my friend Jaehyun. We live together.” Johnny introduces Jaehyun to your roommate, who shakes his hand. “This is Jiwoo.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun.”

“I called you here because I thought it would be nice to have a double date!” Johnny boldly says making your eyes grow wider and your face burn. It made Jaehyun’s ear red, but that you didn’t notice.

“This is a friendly dinner,” you say, taking the knife from the table, “and I would appreciate it if you stop being so inconvenient.”

“I thought I could call it a date after what happened Saturday morning.” Johnny grins at you and before you could scream at him, Jaehyun speaks first.

“Stop bringing that up,” he places a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, “you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Why are your ears so red, Jaehyunnie?” Johnny tilts his head to the side and places both hands on the other boy’s ears.

“I’ll punch your face once we get home,” the younger mumbles and Johnny lifts an eyebrow.

“It will be fun watching you try,” he mumbles back. “So, ladies, shall we order?”

After the dramatic introductions, the dinner went quite well and there wasn’t another mention regarding The Incident (how you like to call it on your mind). Johnny and Jiwoo were too engrossed in their own flirting to think about embarrassing their friends. It was a really pleasant meal and by the end of it, you found out Jaehyun is easygoing and it wasn’t hard to hold a conversation once he opened up. He told you about his major, architecture, even though you already knew that, and said he was glad that Johnny invited him to dinner because, being full of projects to finish, he probably wouldn’t even remember to eat properly.

“We know each other for what, a year and a half?” he asks and you nod. “How come we never talked like this?”

“I think we never had the chance,” you say smiling.

Johnny and your roommate were walking behind you. You glanced back and saw his arms around her shoulders, giggling while she blushed.

“They are disgusting,” you say with disdain, and Jaehyun laughs. “Seriously. I asked him to tone it down… I’m tired of thirdwheeling,” you say under your breath, but Jaehyun hears you.

“Is that why Johnny called me?” he says suggestively “So you did want it to be a double date.”

“What? NO!” you say hitting his left arm but regretting right after. You just got to know the guy, you are not that close yet. But your heart feels lighter once he chuckles.

“Do you know why Johnny always messes with you?” he asks and you shake your head. “Because you get riled up easily. I was only joking, dummy.” he flicks your forehead lightly, smiling at you, exposing his dimples.

“So, you and Jaehyun talked a lot, huh,” Jiwoo says while both of you are on your way back to the dorms. It was late, but you didn’t mind missing a few hours of sleep. Not today.

“Yeah, he was friendly,” you refrain yourself from saying much more. “I had no one else to talk to since you and Johnny were almost making out in front of me,” you say with a playful smile while she pushes out of the sidewalk.

“You are exaggerating.” she sighs and you smile wider “But we did flirt.”

“Did you give him your number?” you ask, linking your arms together.

“Yes, we exchanged numbers. I hope he texts first.”

“Oh, don’t wait for Johnny.” you say and Jiwoo tilts her head in confusion “He will forget to text you. Once we get home, send him something like ‘thanks for dinner’ or ‘I had so much fun tonight’ and he will be happy.”

The rest of the walk back home was your friend trying to embarrass you bringing up Jaehyun and you trying not to get riled up easily, as the boy had mentioned before. You realized your attempts to remain unbothered were in vain when Jiwoo was running away from you to avoid physical retaliation.

Both of you entered the building laughing as quietly as you could. Once you got to your floor, you headed to the end of the hall, meeting one of your neighbors, Abigail, getting out of her own room with a plate full of cookies.

“Hello, girls! I made those cookies for my roommate, but she’s already asleep. Do you want to share it?”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna keep them for when she wakes up?” Jiwoo asks, already putting a cookie on her mouth “I take it back. Yes, we accept the cookies.”

“Is it good?” she asks expectantly.

“This is DIVINE!” you hit your roommate’s shoulder and open your door.

After accpeting you neighbor's cookies and chatting for a bit, you and Jiwoo went to bed. You laid your head down on your pillow and, even though you felt tired, you couldn’t get out of your head images of a certain dimpled boy. Before The Incident, you and Jaehyun barely had opportunities to know each other like you did tonight. Of course, you would rather cut off your tongue than tell Johnny you liked his idea of inviting the boy. It made you wonder if getting to know him better will make your little crush fade away or make it bigger. You sincerely hoped for the former.

In the morning, rather than your alarm, your cousin’s ringtone woke you up. You groaned and picked up the phone.

“Good morning, pumpkin! Is the grass greener, the world beautiful and life worth living yet?” you hear his giggles and sigh loudly.

Johnny Fucking Seo.

“You are alive to bother me, life still sucks.” you whisper trying not to wake up Jiwoo “Do you know you woke me up before my alarm? What time…” you take your phone from your ears to check the time and when you read 6:17 am on the screen, you know Taeyong days are numbered. “Are you a psychopath? I still had almost an hour of sleep.”

“I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be late!” he says loudly and you hear a thud in the background “And also because I wanna meet my lovely cousin before my first class that starts at 8:30. I’m making a special breakfast for us.”

“Please, don’t.” you have flashbacks from the last time Taeyong made a ‘special breakfast’ you had to spend the rest of your day taking antacid “Just stick with simple breakfast. Simple is good.”

“Okay, then. Meet you at 7:30 in the cafeteria.” he says and when you are about to hang up, he finishes with “I might invite Jaehyun too.”

“LEE TAEYONG” you whisper-yell but he had hung up before you could protest. The person who said that family is everything clearly didn’t have an annoying cousin like Taeyong.

You spend some time scrolling through your social media and messaging death threats to Johnny and Taeyong. Then you decide to get up and write a note to your friend. Today both of your classes wouldn’t start until 10 am, so you decided to warn her and let her sleep peacefully.

At 7:35 you arrived at the cafeteria and spotted Taeyong sitting in one of the tables, two trays in front of him.

“You are late.”

“Only five minutes.” you shrug “I thought you were making me a special breakfast,” you go to his side and greet him with a hug.

“You said I should make it simple so I bought you the cafeteria breakfast. Don’t complain.” he takes his bag off the chair next to him and motions for you to sit down. “I need your help.”

You frown while munching a piece of bread. “Help? I thought you called to make fun of me for going on a date with Jaehyun.”

“And yet, you came, willingly. I’ll tell Johnny you considered it a date.” he had a knowing smile adorning his face. “But, no, I wouldn’t wake up earlier just to annoy you. You’re not that important.” he says while peeling a banana. “First, don’t forget that my sister is coming to visit us this weekend. My mom will kill me if you’re not there to celebrate with us.”

Taeyong’s family lived closer than yours. Being only a one hour drive to his hometown, both of you constantly pay your aunt a visit - most of the time requested by her. This time, Taeyong’s sister is visiting after a whole year living abroad with her son and husband, so, obviously, there would be a huge family gathering.

"But I also need your help with a surprise party. Yuta’s birthday is coming soon and I would ask for the boys’ help, but now that Doyoung is gone I can only trust Taeil.”

“That’s because your friends can’t keep their mouth shut,” you mumble and see your cousin smiling. “What do you want me to do? I don’t know Yuta that well, he will find it weird…”

“You won’t need to talk to him or anything. I was thinking you could buy decorations and make the cake.”

“Where will you celebrate it? You can go bowling, maybe going to an arcade… Arcade sounds nice.”

“Arcade? How old are you 12?” Taeyong scoffs. “We’ll just throw a party and invite everyone.”

“You will throw a frat party and give a cake to the guy and call it a surprise?” you deadpan. “Are you dumb?”

“Yeah, I’m throwing him a party. What else do you want me to do?” he looks at you bewildered.

“Well, if your plan is throwing a party and inviting everyone on campus, you won’t need to worry about your friends because Yuta will know one way or another.“ you sigh and place your sandwich back on the tray. “It will be a party full of people who barely know him… it’s better if you just take him to a place he likes. Maybe an amusement park? You can try to find a ticket for that french film festival, he looks cultured, he might like it.”

“People don’t want to spend their birthday at cultured festivals, Y/N. People wanna get drunk. I’m people. Yuta is people.” Taeyong says stealing your sandwich.

“Give it back, thief.” you take it from his hands “I’m not saying he can’t get drunk, I’m just saying it’s stupid to make a frat party to celebrate his birthday, there’s nothing special in it.”

You continue bickering for a couple of minutes until a tall figure appears patting Taeyong shoulder and sitting next to you.

“Good morning to you”

You hear his baritone voice and your heart starts beating faster, but you say to yourself that it had nothing to do with Jaehyun being right beside you. Your pulse was fast because of your argument with Taeyong, yes, that was the reason.

"What are you fighting about?”

“Before you murder me, I didn’t know he would be here.” Taeyong whispers to you. “I didn’t know you had classes early today, Jae.”

“Yeah, I actually came early because of my group project. One of the girls ruined it and now we need to fix it.” he scratches the back of his head and you see him slumping against the chair “What were you talking about?”

“Yuta’s birthday.” you blurt out at the same time as Taeyong says “My mom’s dinner.”

“Sorry…” you say smiling apologetically to your cousin “I’m sure Jaehyun won’t say anything.”

“So, Jae, we’re planning a birthday party,” Taeyong starts but you interrupt.

“You are being unreasonable.“ you scoff at your cousin “Your idea doesn’t make ANY sense. You can’t make a surprise party when you plan to invite half campus.”

“Could you, please, shut up?” he warns, lifting his index finger in your direction “I was telling her that we could throw a big surprise party and invite everyone to celebrate Yuta’s birthday.”

“Basically, he wants to throw one of your frat parties and expects Yuta to be surprised. This is a terrible idea.” you say crossing your arms over your chest “I suggest something more intimate, for his close friends…”

“You’re just saying this because you don’t like our parties. They are the most fun-“ Jaehyun interrupts Taeyong before he can finish.

“I agree with your cousin, hyung.” you and Taeyong quickly shift your attention to the boy “She has a point. You can’t expect that everyone you invite won’t tell Yuta. And it’s his birthday, he should celebrate with people that actually care about him,” he sips his iced coffee before continuing “We can make a small surprise party. I heard Winwin is planning to visit us and Johnny knows one of his classmates, he can ask-“

"No, not Johnny.” you interrupt him “He will end up telling Yuta about the party.”

“I can try talking to the guy, I guess.” he smiles and you nod happily.

“See, Taeyong, that’s what we call a good idea,” you say and he makes a disgusted face.

“Since when are you guys that close? You had your first date yesterday!“ your cousin teases you and you throw a banana at him.

“It was a friendly dinner.” Jaehyun corrects Taeyong, copying your words from yesterday. You smile, even though a tiny part of you felt a little bit hurt that he didn’t consider it a date. “And this has nothing to do with our new friendship, I’m just being fair.”

Taeyong hums looking at the younger boy suspiciously.

“I do think we can throw a party for him at a bowling alley, though. Does he like bowling? Maybe an arcade-” you start ranting but Jaehyun laughs at you.

“How old are you?” as soon as the question leaves his lips, Taeyong snickers.

“I told you it was childish.”

You place your elbows on the table and rests your cheeks on your hands. “I really wanted to go to an arcade,” you mumble.

“Go by yourself then,” Taeyong says, placing the banana you threw at him back on your tray. “I’ll create a group chat with you so we can think about the details.” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket and widening his eyes when he looked at the time “I gotta go or I’ll be late for class.”

Jaehyun stands up at the same time as your cousin, gathering his belongings “I should go too.”

“It’s a surprise, don’t tell anyone.” Taeyong points a finger at you before waving goodbye.

“I’m not a snitch,” you say loud enough for him to hear you.

You had to admit, the rest of your week went by quickly and nothing exciting happened. Except for one of your tutoring students. He was one of the exchange students Mrs. Park had warned you about. His language skills were still a bit rusty, but he was brilliant nevertheless.

Hendery Wong was so easygoing and fun to be with, that even boring tutoring sessions became bearable.

"So, you are telling me that I can’t use this structure here” he frowned and pointed at the same sentence for the third time “But in this other situation it is correct? It makes no sense!” he laughs and throws his pencil on the table.

“Hendery, you need to analyze the whole sentence. Pay attention to the syntax.”

“Y/N, you are a great tutor, but it’s been two hours and I’m starving.” he stopped you by placing his open palm in front of your face.

“You’re right, we should let this matter for the next session.” you started gathering your belongings while the guy next to you stood up.

“Do you wanna grab lunch together? But you are forbidden to talk about syntax or verb tenses.” you laughed at him and nod

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Great!”

Once you stood up and got ready to go, you realized the boy started giggling while looking at you.

“What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face?” you asked, palming your cheeks and forehead.

“No, it’s just that I was thinking,” the boy opened a big smile and you can’t help but mirror his action “You are really pretty."

That stuck to your head in a way that even now, on your way back from your aunt’s house, Taeyong could pinpoint there was something on your mind. He was on the passenger seat, looking at you curiously, and you could feel his stare.

“Spill it,” you say without taking your eyes off the road.

“Oh? Nothing. Just thinking about how I haven’t seen you since Tuesday.” he hums to an unfamiliar song and you frown “You’ll drop me first, right?”

“Sure. I need to give Johnny’s car back since you don’t have your own.”

“You should be the one with a car, I don’t even have a license.”

You scoff and he turns the radio on. You lived too far from your campus, so bringing your car with you wasn’t an option and Taeyong, being the useless cousin you think he is, doesn’t know how to drive. Johnny is nice enough to lend you his car once in a while. Taeyong said he would only need the car at night, so he didn’t mind if you took it today. It was a relief because going to your Aunt’s by bus was hell.

“Since you’ll drop me first, do you want to spend the night? It will be late to go home by yourself.”

“It’s 6:45, Taeyong. I’ve walked back to the dorms later than that.”

“We’re having a movie night. Maybe you can finally convince us to watch High School Musical.” he lifts his eyebrows suggestively.

“You know I always lose, everyone hates it.”

“Not everyone,” he emphasizes, but you shrug.

“I'll stay if you buy us pizza.”

“Deal.”

The rest of the ride is quiet. Taeyong falls asleep and you turn off the radio to avoid getting too distracted by the music. You have a license, but it doesn’t mean you are a confident driver.

Around thirty minutes later, you park Johnny’s car and go inside the big house with your cousin. Yuta was sprawled on the couch, reading a book and a guy you knew as Jungwoo was sleeping on the armchair. You could hear faint sounds coming from upstairs and you guessed it was Mark playing guitar. Or maybe Donghyuck’s screams while playing games, you weren’t sure.

Taeyong guides you to the kitchen and you find Taeil eating a bowl of something you couldn’t really guess what it was.

“Hyung, that’s my cousin.” Taeyong gets closer to the boy and whispers “She is going to help us with operation Osaka.”

“If you want to keep it a secret, maybe you shouldn’t call it operation Osaka.” the eldest jokes and you nod in agreement.

“Isn’t it frustrating living with Taeyong? He is so slow sometimes.” you sigh and hand your phone to your cousin. “I’m getting hungry.”

Taeyong tricked you into thinking that there was a movie night previously arranged. He said, however, the nicest things are done unplanned, so he invited the others. Mark and Jungwoo were the first ones to refuse. The first has a date with his girlfriend and Jungwoo is probably just not feeling it. Yuta stayed on the couch reading his book, not minding any of you. Donghyuck probably didn’t even listen to Taeyong, too engrossed in his games. The only ones left were you, Taeil, your cousin, and Johnny, who said would stay for just a while.

“What about Jaehyun?” you asked, bringing the beer cans to the living room. The words left your mouth before you could realize the consequences. You saw Johnny and Taeyong smirking and Yuta taking his eyes off the book and staring at you. “I mean, the more, the merrier.”

“Jaehyunnie has been locked in his room since yesterday. He said something about a project.” Taeil was the one who answered you.

“We shouldn’t bother him, then,” you say handling Yuta a beer and drinking your own.

“Oh, cousin,” Johnny called, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m not your cousin, John-”

“Where were you on Friday?” he smiles at Taeyong and looks back at you.

“You usually have lunch with us,” Taeyong says and proceeds to sip his drink to hide his growing smile.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry about that! I had lunch with someone else.”

“We are aware,” Johnny says not-so-innocently. “A little bird told me you had lunch with Hendery Wong, the hot exchange student.”

“I seriously hate this little bird of yours,” you say motioning your body to look at the TV. “and he suggested we had lunch together only because I was tutoring him.”

“Having lunch with the students it’s not part of a tutor’s job.” Yuta says as he closes his book “Taeil hyung, stop scrolling and choose a movie already!”

“He was just being nice,” you mumble, but Taeyong hears it.

“First Jaehyun, now Hendery? Your standards are too high for your own good.” he whispers playfully and you hit his legs.

Once the three boxes of pizza were opened in front of you and the movie started playing, you let yourself relax on your spot on the floor. You felt your eyes flutter and slowly close. You weren’t a very energetic person, and the previous week seemed to have drained all of your energy. You woke up to someone poking your cheeks.

Johnny was already gone and Taeyong was sleeping beside you. Yuta and Taeil were the only ones paying attention to the movie. You turn your head to see Donghyuck smiling down at you while holding a plate with three slices of pizza.

“Oh, hey, Hyuck,” you say, adjusting yourself. “You can eat it if you want.”

“I ate it already. I’m offering you the opportunity of taking this upstairs and giving it to Jaehyun hyung,” he says placing the plate on your hands and making his way between you and Taeyong. “You should also take a beer or two with you.”

“Why don’t you take it?”

“Shhhh.” you hear an annoyed Yuta.

After exchanging glances and engaging in a silent fight with Donghyuck, you stand up and go straight to the kitchen to grab two cans of beer. Why were you listening to him? Why was your heart beating faster the closer you got to the staircase? What if Jaehyun was asleep? Or, maybe, he just wanted to be alone. You pondered if you should leave the food at his doorstep, knock the door, and run back to the living room.

But why were you so afraid to knock on a simple door? Because it was Jaehyun’s.

Even though he had acknowledged that you were friends and, now, you could manage to hold a proper conversation with him, you couldn’t help but stay very conscious about your own words and actions. What if Jaehyun realized you were actually very awkward and not interesting? Or worse, he could find out about your crush and distance himself from you. Then, all your efforts to build a friendship will be in vain.

You were overthinking about knocking a door. Jaehyun will make you go insane.

When you are about to knock, you see one of the doors in the hall opening and Jaehyun getting out. He looks taken aback at first by the sight of you in front of his door, trying to hold a plate and two cans of beer. But then, he smiles and reaches to grab the cans from your arms.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Taeyong invited me for a movie night.”

“And what about these?” he asks, lifting the beers and pointing his chin at the plate you were holding.

“Oh, these are for you. Taeil said you didn’t leave your room the whole day.”

“Yeah, I’m still fixing that project from Tuesday.” he moves to open his bedroom door and you glance at the amount of paper, glue, and materials you couldn’t even name. It was a mess. “I would invite you in, but I don’t think I can fit anyone else in here.”

“Oh my God, Jaehyun.” you widen your eyes and he feels his ears getting hot from embarrassment “Do you need help? I can start cleaning…”

“No, no, please,” the boy says, placing the beers somewhere and taking the plate of pizza off your hands “Go back to watch the movie.”

“You seriously need help.” you look around once again and then turn your gaze back at his face “Plus, the movie is not that fun.”

And that’s how you spend the next few hours with him. While he took a break to eat the things you brought, you started separating garbage from the things Jaehyun would actually use. Just by finishing that, he got back half of his room. Then, once the boy went back to the project, he gave you some little tasks like cutting some paper squares and handing him utensils. Jaehyun even made sure to explain to you what you were doing and talked about his project. Most of the time you just nodded in agreement, not really understanding what he said. What you did get was that the model he was building represented 40% of his grade. If you were him, you would be freaking out too.

“I had to rebuild the whole thing except for these details,” he says, pointing to one of the benches on your hand.

“And your group didn’t help with anything?” you ask, extending your open hand for him to get another tree.

“I wouldn’t let Naeun get close to this again. If she touches it, I might actually kill her.” Jaehyun mumbles while using tweezers to glue the tree on his project. He had his lips puckered, focusing on his task.

You stay silent for a moment, watching the boy cautiously finishing the details of his work. Now that you were focused on analyzing his figure, you perceived how tired Jaehyun must be. His tousled hair looked dirty and his eyes were adorned by eyebags and dark circles. You saw him yawning frequently and sometimes you could see him batting his eyelashes swiftly, to whisk away his sleepiness.

“Did you sleep last night?” you ask, giving him the last tree that was on your hand.

“Not really.”

“Shouldn’t you go to sleep, then?”

“I will once I finish my next assignment.” he says, motioning to grab a brush that was behind him “Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s hard not too when you look like a panda,” you answer and he smiles, but doesn’t answer. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘next assignment’?”

“I need to hand in an essay on Monday.” he mumbles, placing the last tree next to the main building of the model “But it’s almost ready, I just need to proofread it.”

“I can proofread it for you. Where is it?” you ask standing up and looking around.

“It’s fine, sit down.” he holds your hand and pulls it in his direction “You’ve helped a lot already.”

“The only thing I did was stare and hold some trees,” you say quietly, looking at his fingers holding your hands.

“You helped with the grass. The grass was important.” he smiles and pulls you with more strength now “Come on, sit down. You also helped me to not fall asleep, that’s important.”

“You know that you are too tired to proofread your essay properly, right?” you say sitting beside him again. “Plus, I’m one of the tutors of Academic Writing. Proofreading is what I do the most.”

“If I promise to go to sleep and finish my essay tomorrow, will you shut up?”

“Why can’t I proofread it for you?” you tilt your head to the side.

“You’re smarter than me, you’ll see my dumb mistakes,” he mutters and you smile at him.

“We all make dumb mistakes, Jaehyun.” you sigh and start gathering the unused utensils around you “Fine, at least let me help you organize this mess.”

Yuta is the one that comes and takes you out of your bubble. Jaehyun was giving his model the final touches while you were placing one of his books back to the shelf. The elder knocked on the door and entered before Jaehyun could answer it.

“Jae, are you- oh!” Yuta looks at you surprised “I didn’t know you were here. We thought you left before the movie ended.”

“She was helping me.” Jaehyun says without looking at his friend “Hyung, can you take the dishes downstairs for us, please?”

“Yeah…” the other boy exchanges glances between the both of you before leaving and kindly takes the plate and the two empty cans downstairs with him.

“You take your phone out of your pocket and surprise yourself with the time. “I should get going, it’s getting late.”

“How will you go back?” he asks standing up from his spot on the floor and stretching his arms.

“It’s only a 15-minute walk, I’m used to it.” Before you can reach the door, Jaehyun holds your arm and pulls you to his side.

“Look at the floor, you were about to step on the scissors.” he scolds you while you just stare at his facial features. How can he manage to look gorgeous and a complete mess at the same time? “Taeyong is going with you, right?”

“Taeyong is probably asleep by now.” you chuckle and try to avoid any other sharp utensil on the floor.

“You’re going home alone? At this time?” he follows you to the hall and stops at his door frame.

“What do you want me to do? Sleep here?” you question him playfully.

“Well, you slept here last week. I wouldn’t mind sharing my bed. Again.”

And then, you swear you see him smirking.

“Are you flirting with me?” you blurt out and pretend to sound uninterested.

“I might be.”

You feel your cheeks burning and avoid meeting his gaze.

“You are really shameless, aren’t you?”

“I was just kidding, silly.” he laughs and pats your head “I’m actually offering to walk you home.”

You quickly turn your head to meet his face. “No, I won’t accept your company.”

“Why?” he says putting a hand on his chest soundings genuinely offended “I was kidding, I’m not flirting with you-”

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” you mumble, quite offended this time “I guess I should say thank you?” you giggle and stop at the top of the staircase “I appreciate your offer, but you look really, really tired. Just go to sleep before you start hallucinating from sleep deprivation.”

Instinctively, you cup his cheeks on your hands and look at him seriously “Please. Go. To. Sleep.” you take your hands out of his face, leaving Jaehyun’s cheeks numb and his ears, red.

“It’s dangerous for you to walk alone at night.” he stutters, a bit flustered from your sudden affectionate touch.

Before you realized, you were already on the ground floor. Donghyuck was cuddling Taeil, both asleep on the floor.

“And you’re suggesting you will protect me if something happens?” you whisper passing by the two of them in the living room “You can barely keep your eyes open. I’ll be more worried about you walking back here alone. No way.”

“I told you to stop worrying about me.” he gets closer to you just to hold the doorknob, stopping you from opening it.

“Then you shouldn’t worry about me either.” you take his hand from the handle and open it.

“You ladies keep complaining about the death of chivalry,” he says leaning on the door frame “but here you are, ignoring my attempts.”

“Oh, you’re such a gentleman.” you mock him and he shakes his head smiling. “Goodbye, Jaehyun.”

“Text me as soon as you get home,” he shouts to make sure you listen.

And you did. Your cheeks blushed at his words and you couldn’t dare to look back, but if you did, you would see Jaehyun standing still in front of the house, and only getting in once your figure was out of frame.

The boy has always admired you, even though you only small-talked before. He found you smart and it was funny watching you and Johnny bickering all the time. The morning you woke up beside him was clearly a shock. Jaehyun didn’t know you well enough to share a bed with you, but, somehow, he felt that was the beginning of your new friendship.

Once he got inside, he saw Donghyuck whining while Taeil pushed him away.

“Get off me, Donghyuck.”

“I’m gonna make some ramyeon, do you want it?” Jaehyun asks while walking past them.

The youngest stands up and follows Jaehyun to the kitchen. Taeil takes advantage of this and quickly goes to his room, not even saying goodbye to the other two.

“What happened upstairs?” the younger had a mischievous grin on his face.

Jaehyun prefers to ignore Donghyuck as he doesn’t understand the question. “Do you want ramyeon or not?”

“Yeah, put on a pack for me” he takes three packs from the cabinet and throws them on the kitchen counter while Jahyun fills a pan with water. “What happened after Y/N went upstairs to give you some food?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m omniscient.” he uses a sarcastic tone, “I told her to take that to you, being the caring dongsaeng I am, obviously.”

“Your jokes are getting funnier each day.” Jaehyun deadpans and Donghyuck smiles. “Nothing happened.”

“I saw her leaving just now and it’s almost two…” the younger uses a suggestive tone, making Jaehyun roll his eyes.

“She was helping me with my project,” he answers simply, making the boy groan.

“That bitch is slow as fuck.” he mumbles and Jaehyun smiles.

“I talked to Johnny about it and, now, I’ll ask you too,” he says after getting three eggs from the fridge. “Stop putting her in uncomfortable situations. The other day, Johnny invited me to dinner and when I got there, she looked like she would collapse at any moment.”

“She spent four hours watching you cutting paper, do you think she really feels uncomfortable around you?” he shrugs and continues “Plus, you both seem to be a lot closer. Text me when you get home? You don’t even open our messages.”

Jaehyun’s ears start getting red while he faces the younger boy “How do you- Yah, Donghyuck, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping.”

“Do you remember that project I did three weeks ago?” Jaehyun says excitedly.

Today was Friday, one of the only week-days you could see your friends - at least the ones who didn’t live with you or you didn’t share classes with. At the moment, Jiwoo is sitting next to you in the cafeteria, Johnny in front of her and Taeyong nowhere to be seen. Jaehyun appeared now, taking the other seat beside you.

“The one with the building and the trees?” you ask, taking a bite of your apple pie.

“He is an architecture student, every project involves buildings and trees” Johnny snickers and Jaehyun shows him his tongue.

“Not every project.” the boy takes a paper out of his bag and places it on the table, right beside you. “We got the grades today. It got 3.5 out of 4.” he flashes you a smile and you swallow your food harshly.

“That’s amazing!” you cheer on him, taking a closer look at the paper. “Is there any feedback about the grass? I was the one who made it,” you say the last part leaning on Jiwoo, who didn’t give you much attention.

“He didn’t mention the grass specifically,” Jaehyun smiles at how focused you were on the feedback note on your hand “But I can assure you it was exquisitely applied.”

“Wow, Jae’s using big words,” Taeyong appears behind you, greeting everyone and giving you a hug.

“You should celebrate it,” you say, giving his feedback note back.

“And what type of celebration would you recommend me, miss?” he playfully asks, stealing one of Taeyong’s fries without the older seeing.

“She will give you the WORST recommendations,” Jiwoo interferes before you even open your mouth “There is a professor that haunts Y/N and every assignment she finishes, her celebration is sleeping.”

“Or eating ice cream and then, sleeping,” Taeyong says with his mouth full of food.

“Last year, we went to the movie theater to celebrate the end of midterms and she slept before the movie had even started,” your roommate says, making everyone laugh.

“We’re going to the club tonight, Jae.” Johnny says and turns his head to Jiwoo “You’re coming, right?”

“I don’t know, I have to read some of Hendery’s notes and-” you start and Johnny interrupts you.

“Yeah, yeah, you rarely come. I was asking Jiwoo.”

You love seeing your friends happy, especially when, somehow, you are a part of it. However, since that double date - or friendly dinner, whatever helps you sleep at night - you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Your great friends were dating each other (they didn’t admit it yet, but it wasn’t really needed) and you couldn’t help but feel neglected. Jiwoo started to spend more time at Johnny’s than at your dorm, being considerate as you have already walked in when they were in a heavy make-out session.

“Yeah, sure,” she answers tucking her hair behind her ear. You gag on her action and she hits your shoulder.

“Movie theater is a good option though,” Jaehyun says bringing your attention back to him. “There are some new movies that seem nice.”

“Did you see they released a new one that’s based on a book?” you turn your whole body on the chair to face the boy beside you. “The book is so good. It’s a thriller and it’s narrated in the first person, so you only see the story from the character’s point of view. And, then, she starts going insane…”

“Is it that book you have been begging me to read?” Taeyong asks and you nod furiously.

“I really wanna watch this movie,” you add excitedly

“Let’s watch it then,” he suggests looking at you and smiles when he sees your blushing cheeks. “All of us, I mean. To celebrate my temporary freedom from that class.” he clears his throat and looks at the other at the table.

“I’m in, when do you wanna go?”

Taeyong asks, eating one of his fries. Johnny and Jiwoo simultaneously try to kick his ankle from under the table but end up kicking themselves instead.

“What about today after class? We can get the evening session,” he asks, watching your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll have to get ready for the club, you know,,” Johnny says quickly and looks at Taeyong expectantly, but your cousin is still focused on his food.

“I have to run some errands too,” Jiwoo adds “But I’m sure Y/N is free. Her classes end at 3p.m!”

“I really wanted to,” you start and your frustrated tone gives away you’re not going to make it “but as I said, need to read some essays from the students and prepare some notes to help Hendery. Sorry.”

“You can do it during the weekend,” Jiwoo says, nudging your side.

“Stop hitting me!” you whisper to her.

“Well, I’m free.” Taeyong lifts his head and smiles at Jaehyun “We can go together, then.”

“Taeyong, won’t you come to the club with us tonight?” Johnny asks the other boy, giving him a knowing look.

“No, I told you they banned from that-” he grunts when Johnny successfully kicks his ankle from under the table. “Oh, right, yeah, I totally forgot about that. Sorry, I won’t make it.”

“Are you sure you can’t come, Y/N?” he asks you again and you feel Jiwoo elbowing your ribs once again.

“Stupid bitch, he’s asking you on a date,” she whispers and you silently ask her to stop.

“Guess I’ll celebrate at the club then. You should come too, at least for an hour.” he says poking your arm “You helped me finish it. It’s practically your project too.”

“If you don’t accept Jaehyun’s invitation right now,” Jiwoo leans to whisper in your ear, “I’ll lock our room and you’ll have to sleep on the hallway for the rest of the weekend.”

“I have the key too, you know,” you whisper back.

“I wanna see you try to open the door with the drawer blocking it.” She sits back and happily, goes back to talk to Johnny.

What if she was reading everything wrong? If Jaehyun wanted to go on a date, he would promptly ask you. Everyone knows how straightforward the boy can be. However, he invited everyone. You did want to say yes, but there were so many things to be done. Deep down, you knew it was just an excuse. You didn’t want to fool yourself into thinking that the boy’s invitation meant something more than just watching a movie. Still, he was your friend, how could you disappoint a friend who worked so hard and deserved to celebrate.

“I guess I can do my assignments tomorrow,” you lean closer to Jaehyun and say in a low tone “Let’s go to the movies.”

“Are you sure?” he questions furrowing his brows.

“Yes! Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nods and rubs your back. "Just don’t forget to text me when your last class is finished.”

“I will.”

“How did you like it?” Jaehyun asked you on your way out to the theatre, his arms around your shoulders.

“It was fine,” you answer, slightly nervous by the sudden proximity.

Truthfully, you had a hard time focusing on the movie. How could you when your hands were constantly meeting when both of you went to grab a handful of popcorn or when he laid his head on your shoulder to take a short nap? It was especially hard to pay attention to the movie when he started playing with your hand that was on the armrest during the last twenty minutes.

“It was kinda boring,” he says, guiding you to the exit and adding a distance between both of you once you reach the street. “I didn’t feel the thrill at all.”

“Well, I did,” you mumble, thinking about everything that happened but the movie itself “I’m just disappointed by the fact that this has nothing to do with the book. Not even the plot is the same.”

“The movie was your idea and it was terrible.” he playfully nudges you and you gasp, pretending to be offended “I’m afraid of how tedious the book must be.”

“Well, we could have watched any other movie. You didn’t need to choose that one.”

“But you wanted to watch it.” he pouts and you can feel your heart pounding on your throat. “Anyways, it’s almost seven now. If you get ready fast enough, we can get a ride for the club.”

“And who says I’m going to the club?” you raise an eyebrow and cross your arms around your chest.

“I am.” he takes your hand in his and hushes you to walk faster.

“Yuta’s birthday is this Saturday, don’t forget.” Taeyong reminds you before hanging up.

How can you forget since this is all he has been talking about this week? You started to regret helping your cousin with the surprise party considering the amount of work you had on your hands. You should have seen this coming. You spent three peaceful weeks without any new responsibilities. Suddenly, all your professors decide to schedule assignments and exams for this week. You were on the verge of killing anyone who crossed your path until someone really did.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you don’t stop frowning,” Jaehyun said beside you.

“Where did you come from?” you asked, slightly annoying for getting startled by his sudden presence.

“I was laying down right there,” he pointed to the green area on your right side “when I saw you getting out of your class.”

“Don’t you have classes? How come you are always doing nothing when we meet on campus?” you adjusted the books that were on your arms and Jaehyun noticed.

“No, I don’t have classes,” he said, taking the books from your hold “I work my ass off on those projects because it’s fun. Why are you so irritable today? Where are you going?”

“Library, I need to return them,” you say without complaining and appreciating your friend’s gesture. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just exhausted,” you said under your breath, but Jaehyun listened and used his free arm to embrace your shoulders to bring you closer.

“You know you owe me, right?” he whispered close to your ear and smiled at your flustered state.

“Uh?” you turned your head to meet his face and held your breath when you saw he wasn’t many inches away from you.

Jaehyun suspected about your behavior even before you became friends. You weren’t the most subtle person in the world, so it didn’t take him long to realize you had a tiny crush on him and got embarrassed every time he got more physical or playfully flirted with you. He found it awfully cute when you gave him the same stunned expression you are wearing right now: lips parted, wide eyes, and hot cheeks.

“You owe me a movie date.”

“A what?” you said louder than necessary, avoiding his gaze, and he laughs.

“A movie day,” he corrected, chuckling while you sighed.

“I don’t owe you any date or whatever,” you mumbled taking his arms off your shoulders “Stop with the frat boy behavior, I don’t like it when you do this.”

“Do what?” he asked innocently, smiling when you scowled at him and resumed your walk to the library “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Plus, I am a frat boy.”

“I am aware of it,” you said in disdain. “Why would I owe you a movie day?”

“Don’t you remember that terrible movie we watched together last month? I deserve compensation,” he said reaching your side and placing his arms back on your shoulders.

“You were the one who insisted on paying for my tickets. Do you want me to pay you back?” you asked genuinely and Jaehyun shook his head quickly.

“What? No! Of course not, silly.” he took off his arm from your shoulder just to flick your forehead “I said you owe me a movie, not money.”

“So you wanna go out this week? I’m sorry I can’t-” you guessed and he shook his head again, stopping you.

“You can come over and we watch it together. A little bird told me…”

“What does that frat house of yours have with little birds? Oh my God you guys really love gossiping, don’t you?” you scoff, and Jaehyun laughs.

“Johnny told me you love High School Musical.”

“Yeah, it’s a childhood classic.”

“Me too.” you swiftly turned your head to him as you heard him say “I like High School Musical too. Let’s watch it on Friday.”

“Are you kidding me?” you asked in disbelief.

“I’m not. You can come over after you finish your assignments. A High School Musical marathon will be waiting for you.” Jaehyun slowed down his pace as he saw the library entrance “You can’t say no, you owe me.”

And that’s how you ended up in Jaehyun’s bedroom on a Friday night.

He is currently in the kitchen getting popcorn and drinks ready while you are preparing the room for the High School Musical marathon. You place Jaehyun’s laptop on the bedside table and search for some blankets to cover the bedroom floor. You spent three whole days wondering if it was really a good idea to come over and watch movies with Jaehyun. You knew it wasn’t good for your heart, especially when you were already falling for him - for nobody’s surprise.

You have to keep reminding yourself that you are just friends and you should be happy about it. Being friends it’s better than strangers, isn’t it? But there is something strangely familiar with the way he places his arms around your shoulders and invites you over, on a Friday night, just to watch childish movies. There is a knock on the door and you stand up to open it, thinking that it must be Jaehyun with his hands full, but you see your cousin.

“Hey, Jae- pumpkin?” Taeyong tilts his head to the side looking puzzled “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun invited me to watch the High School Musical movies with him.” you shrug. “Do you wanna come in? There’s space for you.”

“Oh, no, no. I was just- nevermind.” Taeyong was about to joke about how you too seemed like a couple, but he decides that it’s better if you keep your good mood. “The boys are going out to celebrate Yuta’s birthday.” he finishes and you frown.

“But the party…” you whisper and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s kind of our tradition to celebrate our birthdays the day before too. Hyuck calls it a farewell party.”

“Did you tell them about tomorrow?”

“Not yet. I’ll tell them in the morning,” he says and rubs his hands on his back pockets

“Aren’t you going with them?”

“No, I have to stop you and Jaehyun from doing funny business,” he lets out and you hit his shoulder “Stop hitting me! I’m kidding. Doyoung is arriving late at night so I’ll stay to help him sneak in.”

“Won’t they suspect it?”

“Don’t worry, I’m a good actor,” he says patting your head “Well, enjoy your date.”

“This is not a date!” you scream as he goes away, leaving you alone.

Downstairs, Mark, Johnny, Donghyuck, and Yuta are seated in the living room, waiting for Taeil. Taeyong glances at the kitchen and sees Jaehyun too engrossed in his task, so he takes it as an opportunity and runs to his friends.

“Do you know who’s upstairs?” he whispers sitting beside Johnny.

“Taeil hyung?” Mark questions and Donghyuck slaps the back of his neck.

“Y/N.”

The two younger guys gasp and Yuta takes his eyes off his phone screen, paying attention to his friends.

“That asshole said he had an important arrangement,” Yuta whispers in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you lied too, Taeyong.”

“I’m telling you the truth! I really need to finish an important report.” he lies “This upcoming week is being so hectic. I’m really sorry, Yuta.”

“The boy’s getting his dick wet, I would say it is very important,” Johnny giggles and Taeyong makes a face.

“She’s my cousin, man.”

“I doubt it.” Donghyuck speaks up “I bet 10 bucks nothing will happen. That chick is dumb.”

“Yo, I think Jaehyun hyung will take it to the next level” Mark replies back.

“Make it 15,” Yuta intervenes “He’ll get some tonight.”

“20 on Hyuck,” Johnny says “He will kiss her, she will freak out and won’t look at his face for the next three weeks.”

“How much are you betting, Mark?” Donghyuck asks the older and Taeyong stands up to flick the youngest’s forehead.

“Stop betting on my cousin’s sex life.”

They hear a thud is coming from upstairs and everyone looks up. A faint “are you okay?” is heard and several seconds later, Taeil is in the living room with the others.

“Yah, Taeyong, why was your cousin climbing on Jaehyun’s closet?” the oldest says chuckling. “She fell, but I think she’s fine.”

“I told you, she’s dumb” Donghyuck mocks.

A few minutes later, everyone is gone and the only ones in the house are Taeyong, you, and Jaehyun. Differently from you, the latter doesn’t even spare a glance at Taeyong when he asks if he could join your movie night. The younger just grins and sends him a middle finger.

Different from what his roommates expected, Jaehyun planned this movie night with absolutely no other intention rather than spending some quality time with you. He saw your distressed state and it hurt him to know he could do nothing to help you with your exams. The least he could do was try to comfort you with food, as a good friend would.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, placing the popcorn bucket and the drinks on his writing desk and going straight to your direction. You are standing on his swivel chair, on your toes, trying to reach the comforter that was on the top shelf of his closet.

“I’m… almost…” you touch the cloth at the same time Jaehyun holds your waist. His hands were gripping your sides, securing you in place.

“Get this before you fall.” the boy warns you, squeezing you gently.

“I already fell.” you pull the comforter and it hits the ground. Jaehyun extends his hand for you to take it. “Taeil helped me, though.”

“Did you get hurt?” he holds your face in his hands, looking at you attentively and it doesn’t fail to make you flustered.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” you push his hands, avoiding his gaze. “Let’s start!”

Both of you sit down against the bed and you press play on the movie. Once the movie started, you could feel your heart getting warmer, memories from your childhood days flooding your mind as you still remembered some of the characters’ lines and, mostly, all the songs lyrics. You refrain yourself from singing the first three songs, embarrassed by Jaehyun’s presence, but once you hit the middle of the first movie, both of you were already making duos and you even stand up to perform ‘When There Was Me and You” making Jaehyun cackle as you use one of his middle school pictures as a fake Troy Bolton poster.

You wake up against Jaehyun’s chest feeling your back sore from the position. Your butt is numb and your legs were tangled in his. The boy has one arm around your body while the other is resting on your thigh. The laptop screen is black and you guess it has turned off. You lift your head to find Jaehyun’s head hanging back, resting on the bed’s mattress. It will certainly cause him a stiff neck. You smoothly remove yourself from his hold and stretch out as you stand up. You place the empty popcorn bucket on Jaehyun’s desk and close his laptop. You couldn’t find your phone, but from his window, you could see it was really dark outside. You had to go back to your dorm, but you couldn’t leave your friend laying down like that.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper “Jae, wake up.” you poke his face. “You’ll get hurt if you keep sleeping in this position.”

Your hands find his hair and softly pats his head. Jaehyun was warm, soft, and smelled so good.

“Jae, wake up, I can’t carry you to bed.” You keep moving one of your hands against his hair while the other is caressing his face until you see his eyes fluttering open. He groans as he moves his neck and you smile softly.

“What time is it, babe?” his husky voice and the sudden nickname catch you off guard.

“Uh… It’s late.” you answer moving away from him “I just woke you up to tell you to go to bed. You’ll hurt your neck.”

“Are you leaving?” he asks with his eyes barely open.

“Yeah, I need to go. You can keep sleeping, though.”

You start standing up and searching for your shoes, but Jaehyun presses himself against your back, enveloping you in a hug.

“No, don’t go. It’s dangerous,” he whispers in your ears and rests his forehead on the crook of your neck, making you freeze.

“I need to go,” you try to take his arms off you, only for him to hold you tighter. “Jaehyun, stop,” you use your most serious tone, but he pretends not to listen. “You’re such a child.”

“Stay the night. I’m too tired to walk you back to your dorm” he lifts his head to look at your side profile “and I won’t let you go alone.”

“I’ve walked alone so many times before…” you mumble and he buries his face on your neck again.

“Now you have me, you don’t have to walk alone again.”

You feel your heart beating faster at his words. If you weren’t already nervous enough with his sudden physical affection, his words completed the job of making your heart rate skyrocket. You keep on the silent battle to try to free yourself from his grasp and you feel him smirking against your skin.

“You know I’m stronger, babe.” There it goes, the damn nickname again.

“Fine, fine.” you give in, not bearing the current situation anymore “If it means you’ll let go of me, I’ll stay.”

He instantly releases you and pats your head. You start gathering your belongings, finding your purse and your shoes, but still looking for your phone.

“I’ll find it tomorrow,” you say to yourself and look at Jaehyun getting some clothes from his closet “Well, goodnight, then” you raise your hand and wave goodbye, but he catches your arm before you can turn to leave.

“Where are you going? You said you’re staying,” he asks genuinely confused.

“To Taeyong’s bedroom,” you answer as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s- why-” he frowns and gets closer to you “That’s not what I meant when I asked for you to stay.”

“What do you-”

“I asked you to sleep here.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun, I heard it. I’m staying in the house tonight.”

“With me.”

You gulp at his words. You definitely don’t like this game he was playing with you. You could bear the daily messages and the playful pickup lines, but this was going over the line. Why does he always insist on walking you to your dorm or buy two cupcakes at the cafeteria just to give you one because he knows it’s your favorite? Why invite you to watch childish movies with you on a Friday night when he can just go out with his friends and have fun? Why is he always giving you sudden hugs or holding your hands? Why would he call you ‘babe’? Does he know you like him? Is he trying to prove a point? You aren’t sure what this is, but you are seriously afraid of getting hurt.

“Sleep here with me. We shared a bed before, I don’t mind doing it again,” he continues, bringing your attention back to him.

“I asked you to stop doing this,” you pull your arm from his hold and walk two steps back.

“I’m not doing anything-”

“This behavior. Stop acting like this.” you repeat raising your voice a little bit “Quit playing with me.”

“What are you saying? I’m not playing with you!” he reaches for your hand again, but you deflect.

“Stop flirting with people if you don’t mean it.”

Your voice is stern and you see Jaehyun adjusting his posture.

“Who says I’m flirting with you?” he regrets what he said as soon as he sees your disappointed expression.

Why would you feel disappointed when this is exactly the answer you were expecting? It wasn’t the answer you wanted, though, and deep down you knew it. Your anger leaves your body as sadness takes over, but you manage to smile.

“I’m glad I haven’t misread your actions then. We’re just good friends.”

Jaehyun doesn’t understand why his heart clenched at your words. They were completely true: you were nothing but good friends. He doesn’t have any feelings beyond friendship towards you. Or does he?

“Just don’t go bother your cousin, he must be asleep,” he clears his throat and hands you a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt “There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom’s cabinet, you can get it.”

You were thankful for being able to talk to Jaehyun like the conversation from the night before didn’t happen. You woke up alone on his bed. He was folding the blankets you left on the floor last night and flashed you a smile when he saw you awake. You realized the awkwardness was gone when he started cracking jokes with you. Jaehyun was treating you the same as before and you decided to forget about the conversation you had the night before. It was like a silent agreement to not mention the sexual tension that both of you decided to ignore.

Once you went downstairs, you had an eventful breakfast though. Both of you found out your friends made a bet on your sexual life. Mark and Yuta believed you would have sex while Johnny and Haechan believed you were too shy to try something with Jaehyun. You were sure your cousin was in the middle of this, even though no one mentioned his name. Taeyong stayed too quiet during the whole breakfast for your liking. Jaehyun almost killed Donghyuck and Mark but said nothing to Johnny or Yuta because he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against the older ones.

You went back to your dorm to change your clothes and get all of the things for the party Taeyong was hiding from Yuta. The rest of the day went smoothly once all of the boys were warned about the surprise party. The plan was to keep Yuta away until you guys got everything ready by the evening. You went back to their house with Jiwoo, who was glad to help Taeyong and Donghyuck decorating the house while you, Taeil, and Doyoung were preparing the food.

Donghyuck was sulking the entire time for not being warned beforehand about the party, calling your decoration plain and boring. After you found out it was him who started the whole bet thing, you just wanted to kick his face. However, you decided to do it after Yuta’s birthday, just to avoid a commotion.

One of Yuta’s great friends, Sicheng, was, indeed, coming for his birthday and everyone was really excited for his reaction. Even though he could only spend this weekend with his friend.

“He was supposed to arrive with me,” Doyoung explains to you “I was going to drive to the airport and bring him here with me, but his flight got delayed so he will arrive at 1 pm.”

“And he will leave on Sunday?” you ask, handing him the spatula.

“Unfortunately.”

“He said to me he has exams on Tuesday,” Taeil completes “ And his birthday is two days after Yuta’s, he probably wants to spend it with his family.”

“Well, I hope he can at least enjoy his time around.”

The party was supposed to start at 5 pm, so everyone was running against the clock. At 1, Doyoung left you and Taeil in the kitchen to go pick up Sicheng at the airport and by 4, everything was ready, the guests arriving for the party. Taeyong, being the one of the only ones with a suite, kindly let you and Jiwoo use his room to get ready. Your roommate brought both of your clothes with her, and you had to admit you should have expected her to choose something you wouldn’t like.

“I just asked you to grab pants and a shirt!” you complain to her with your clothes in hand.

“And I did!” she uses her mascara to point at you “You act like those clothes aren’t yours. I took them from your drawers!”

“I know they are mine but-”

“No buts,” she gets out of Taeyong’s bathroom to face you. “I’m tired of watching you wearing rags when you have nice clothes. This is a party, woman, you need to show what you came here for.”

“I know, I just- This is…” you look at the skinny pants on your hands, different from the ones you’re used to wearing “so tight. I’ll get all…”

“All the attention, because it will hug you in all the right places. Come on” she whines and you smile at her. She was right.

You were so used to puttin on the same set of jeans and loose t-shirts everyday. You deserved to look good once in a while. Although your bottom was tight, your friends chose a loose long sleeve shirt for you to use, which you silently thanked her for. The weather was starting to get chilly, and you are the type who gets cold easily.

When you were both ready, you went downstairs to see a considerable number of people. Yuta seemed to be really popular in University. It isn’t really shocking though, since it is known how kind and polite the boy is.

When Yuta arrives, everyone screams ‘surprise!’ and starts singing the happy birthday song, he freezes. It takes him a moment to absorb the whole situation, especially when he sees Doyoung and Sicheng holding his cake.

“I wanted to make something special because it’s your last year,” Taeyong says hugging the guy “I know you will graduate soon, so I want you to miss us when you’re gone.”

“Thank you so much, guys!” he says after blowing the candles. “OH, WAIT. Can we light up some other candles? Winwin’s birthday is in two days, let’s sing for him too!”

That is how you spend the evening. It’s different from what you are used to when it comes to parties and this frat house. Not only the time of the day, but everything seems impersonal, cold. Now, watching these boys hanging out together, you start to understand why your cousin loves them so much: they are his family.

If the atmosphere is different, their craziness is the same. You were trying to hold a proper conversation with Mark’s girlfriend, Doyoung and Jungwoo when Donghyuck dragged you to one of his drinking games. He makes sure that you never win so you can take enough shots of vodka to make you feel dizzy.

When you are trying to sober up by eating some of the cupcakes you baked a couple of hours before, it’s Jiwoo’s time to drag you out of the kitchen and place you in a circle in the living room. With both of your hands occupied and your mouth full of icing, you watch Johnny putting on a show just to officially ask your roommate to be his girlfriend. Everyone cheered loudly for them, you including. You are glad that your friends found each other, even though it also means that now they will do everything together, including annoying you.

You are still a little bit too happy when Jaehyun comes to you and hands you a bottle of beer. You haven’t talked to him until then, but it wasn’t like you were avoiding him. Actually, you were preventing yourself from being teased by your friends.

“Wow you look…” he stops for a moment to check you out while sipping his drink.

“What? Too much, right?” you ask, starting to feel self-conscious. "I told Jiwoo…”

“No, your pants look great on you.” he stops you by pointing at you “I was just trying to find the right words. I don’t want to sound like a frat boy, since you keep asking me not to.”

You lower your head and lean on the kitchen counter. So he didn’t forget the previous night conversation.

“I was gonna say that you look hot as fuck,” you can see Jaehyun’s shoes touching yours, warning you that it would be dangerous to look up “and that I was ready to risk our friendship just to make out with you right now.”

You look up and instantly regret your action once you see him up close. Jaehyun traps you between his body and the counter. You feel your heart on your throat and something tingles inside you. You lock eyes with Jaehyun who doesn’t seem to notice your nervousness because he, himself, was dealing with his. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to make a move on you? You are his friend. But friends are not supposed to think about the other in the same way he was thinking about you right now. All he wanted was to kiss you in a way friends should do. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to do things to you that friends definitely shouldn’t do.

“Jaehyun…” the way you whisper his name, so close to his lips, makes him want to kiss you so badly. “I asked you to stop.”

“I’m not doing anything.” he whispers back with his body over yours while looking at your lips.

“I don’t like this game.”

“Good, because I’m not playing.”

You will blame the alcohol later, right now, you are too busy feeling Jaehyun against your lips. He had one hand on the counter behind you while the other circled your waist, bringing you impossibly close to his body. You took no time to place one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, helping you to keep your balance. He gently grazes his tongue on your lower lip, asking for permission, and once you grant it, the kiss becomes way rougher than you expected. Jaehyun tastes like beer and cupcakes, bitter and sweet. You smile at the thought of him eating the cupcakes you put so much effort on. His hand that was on your waist, goes down to your lower back at the same time you put both of your arms around his neck and bring him closer. He takes a few steps back, separating you from the counter, just to bring his other hand to your butt, and smirking right after giving it a light squeeze.

He lowers both of his hands to the back of your thighs, suggesting that he wanted to lift you up. Once you lock your legs on his waist, he walks back to the counter, placing you there and staying between your legs. You were feeling hot like you’ve never felt before. Your fingers find their way on the back of his neck, pulling a few strands of hair making him hum in satisfaction.

When you break the kiss, filling your lungs with air, Jaehyun quickly places his lips to your jaw and then your neck. He bites your ear lobe and leaves a trail of wet kisses up to your collarbones. You bring your body closer to him as you feel his lips find a particular sensitive part of your neck. He keeps one of his hands on your lower back while the other massages your thigh.

When Jaehyun tries to find your lips again, you place your lips on his neck, leaving light marks all over it. You feel him tightening his grip on you as your teeth graze his sensitive skin and you smile. When you unconsciously grind your hips against him, the boy feels the urge to rip your clothes off right and then, until your eyes meet again.

Jaehyun looks at your eyes and suddenly he feels his heart clench. He couldn’t be rough with you, he didn’t want to. His heart was beating insanely faster when your lips met for the second time. He slowed down your rhythm, and now, kissing you gently and lovingly, he could properly feel you. Feeling your soft lips against his and your fingers caressing his neck. He could stay like that forever, but forever is a long time to ask for in this house.

Donghyuck enters the kitchen and doesn’t even try to be subtle:

“WOAH, TAEYONG HYUNG, YOUR COUSIN AND JAEHYUN ARE MAKING BABIES IN THE KITCHEN.”

If you wanted to kick his face before, now you were ready to kill him. You quickly detach yourself from Jaehyun’s hold, get off the counter and before leaving the room, you hear Jaehyun say:

“Lee Donghyuck, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

In the living room, no one really seemed to care about the information that your younger friend had just screamed. Only Jiwoo and Taeyong looked at you suspiciously, but you shrug and sit down by his side.

“I’m leaving in five.”

“Why? We’re going to the club after this,” he asks, placing an arm around your shoulder “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” he raises his eyebrows suggestively before laughing at you.

“I just won't go right now because I don’t want people thinking I’m running away from Jaehyun.”

“You are, though.”

“Yes, I am.”

In the following week, there was no trace of Jaehyun in your life. Your friends were kind enough to not mention what Hyuck had witnessed in their kitchen and you thanked them for that. On Monday, after your Spanish class, the ones who walked you back to your dorm were Johnny and Jiwoo.

You didn’t know how to feel. You missed Jaehyun, a lot. He became part of your routine and not getting any messages from him or not being able to see his smile every day was making you frustrated. At the same time, you were scared of what that kiss in his kitchen meant. Was it the end of your friendship?

It was getting annoying, to say the least. Your mind would often replay the scenes you were trying too hard to forget in the most inconvenient moments. On Tuesday, one of the students had to call your attention because you spent two whole minutes staring at their assignment instead of actually correcting it.

Only on Wednesday, your routine changed a little bit. You had woken up late, almost missing your first class. Then, Mr. Choi finished the class ten minutes later than usual, making you sprint towards the main building to get to the study room as fast as you could since Lucas would be already waiting for you.

Once you entered the main hall and one of the employees scolded you for running inside the building, you started to walk fast, just to bump into the person you were expecting to meet. You as you lose balance, the books and your phone, that were on your hands, fall to the ground. Hendery was fast enough to hold you by your shoulder, helping you to stand up properly.

“Whoa, I guess you’re falling for me, uh?!” he says mischievously and you laugh.

“I almost fell because of you, not for you,” you answer and he grins. “I’m sorry, Mr. Choi took longer than expected, so I had to run and-”

“It’s okay,” he adds playfully “but you had to make up for me. For waiting, you know.”

“Oh, of course!” you nod and start guiding Hendery to the study room “I’ll stay as long as you need to-”

“I meant we can have lunch together, if you don’t mind,” Hendery reaches for your left arm, indicating you to face him.

“Oh,” you exclaim, holding the doorknob “Well if you insist, we can have lunch together.”

Taeyong gets startled when a backpack is thrown beside him, and a tray full of food is placed on the table with unnecessary strength. Johnny and Jiwoo stopped their forks midway, all eyes were focused on Jaehyun’s distressed face.

“What?” he asks, sounding ruder than he intended.

“We should be the one asking you what’s going on,” Johnny says before putting a big slice of watermelon inside his mouth.

“I brought watermelons. Do you want some?” Jiwoo slides one of the bowls in Jaehyun’s direction but he refuses it.

“I’m fine.”

“Who annoyed you?” Taeyong asks, carefully stealing one of Johnny’s watermelons and receiving a glare from the other guy.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles and starts eating the food that was on his tray.

“Isn’t Y/N eating with us?” Jaehyun hears Johnny asking his girlfriend and starts sulking even more.

Jaehyun was sitting with a group of his classmates in the building’s lounge, discussing the next assignment while they waited for their next class. He smiled when he spotted your small figure walking fast around the building, but immediately frowned when he saw you colliding with a male figure. “Jaehyun, what do you think?” one of his classmates called his attention. “Uh?” he asked without taking his eyes off you. “We can start the project on Monday. What do you think?” The guy repeated but Jaehyun didn’t pay attention, too focused on the way the tall guy held your shoulders. “Whoa, I guess you’re falling for me, uh?!” He heard the guy and rolled his eyes at the cheesy pickup line. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he answered and kept staring at you. When you were about to turn left and enter the study room, the tall guy quickly held your arm and said something to you, which surprised you, Jaehyun assumed by the expression on your face. "Well, if you insist, we can have lunch together.” Now, it was Jaehyun’s turn to be left surprised as he catches what you said. What really made his blood boil is the way the tall guy flashed you a flirty smile and the way you mirrored it. Once both of you entered the study room, he instantly stood up, but his knee hit the coffee table in front of him and spilled water in one of his friends. “What the hell, Jae?” Naeun exclaims, looking at the boy and then follows his gaze. “Sorry, Naeun.” he looks at his friend and helps her gather her things “I wasn’t paying attention.” “What were you thinking?” another classmate sighs and Jaehyun takes a quick glance at the closed door. “Don’t you guys think we should discuss this project in the study room?” He suggests holding his backpack and motioning to the door you had just entered, only to be ignored by the others.

“I’m not sure, she usually messages me about lunch,” Jiwoo says, checking her phone.

“I guess she will be busy,” Jaehyun says, not looking at the others at the table “With that guy, Hendery.”

“Oh, did you see them again? Why are you always the one coming across them?” Taeyong chuckles and pat the boy’s back.

“That’s why you are so annoyed then.” Jiwoo nudges her boyfriend “Yesterday, she told me she misses you, Jaehyun.”

“Apparently, Jiwoo and I bother her a lot when we walk her back to the dorms,” Johnny completes.

The boy doesn’t lift his head from the food, pretending not to listen. But he did, and it kills him to know it because he feels the same. Jaehyun didn’t reach out and he assumed that it was his fault. In his defense, he just wants to give you some space, some time to forget about what you did in Yuta’s party. He felt bad because he knows about the way you feel about him and he never, in a million years, wanted to use your feelings like that. Saying that he is just your friend just to kiss you and raise your expectations when he wasn’t even sure about his feelings was definitely a terrible idea. He wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to him again.

“I was kind of a dick,” he mumbles, and Taeyong sighs. “I know she likes me more than just a friend and I didn’t want to give her hopes when I’m not even sure how I feel. I was drunk, that was stupid of me. She must hate me.”

“I’ve heard the drunk excuse once,” Taeyong whispers, and Johnny holds back his laughter.

“Drunk actions are sober thoughts,” Johnny says.

“You have a steamy makeout session with your friends and you say you don’t know how you feel?” Jiwoo asks, using her fork to tap on his tray, calling his attention to her “Yeah, it must be SO hard to figure out how you feel.“ she huffs in annoyance “You are the densest person I know.”

“Y/N is your friend too,” Taeyong adds.

“She is another d, she is dumb,” the girl replies “At least she knows her feelings.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to give her time and space,” Jahyun retorts and before he can resume his lunch, Taeyong grabs the back of his neck.

“Don’t use her feelings as an excuse. We both know you are the one who wants time and space.”

They leave the boy alone, all of them going to their respective classes, but not too long after, he gets a message from Johnny.

[john - 1:46 p.m]: spanish finishes 30 minutes earlier today

To say you were surprised to see Jaehyun waiting for you outside your classroom was an understatement. At first, you didn’t see him. Then, you thought you were hallucinating. It was only when he smiled and pulled you into a hug that you felt it was real. Your cheeks were burning while he held you way too tight.

“Sorry for not walking you home this week,” he says with his head buried in your hair “I was… busy.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to walk me home,” you reply, breaking your hug and you almost miss the slightly frustrated expression on his face. Almost.

“But you know I want to.”

You are glad that he decides to not mention that eventful evening. You know that, at some point, it can come back on you and mess your whole relationship, but, right now, all you cared about was Jaehyun’s happy smile while talking to you about the mess Mark made on the club on Saturday and how much fun they had with Sicheng.

Both of you were walking slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence and talking about anything that came to your mind at the moment. Once you arrive at your building, ten minutes later than normal, Jaehyun stops you from entering the building.

“I want to apologize for -”

“It’s okay.” you don’t let him finish. Listening to him apologizing for kissing you it will hurt more than pretending it never happened.

“But you didn’t let me finish,” he insists, but you shake your head.

“I know what you’ll say. It’s alright. I forgive you.”

“Y/N-”

"Jaehyun, don’t,” your voice is stern and he chuckles, raising his arm in defense.

“Alright. Then let me take you to the arcade on Friday after class,” he says, his ears getting red as he does “Remember you said you wanted to go there? Let’s go together. It’s my official apology.”

“I said I forgive you, you don’t need to-”

“This is my official apology, you need to come so I can be officially forgiven,” he smirks and you laugh. He was always so smooth to get what he wanted. “Then we can go to the party.”

“What party?” you frown in confusion.

“Our party, this Friday. You need to come,” you groan in annoyance and let your head fall back “Come on, I’m sure Jiwoo is coming too.”

“She will just spend the whole night with Johnny,” you plead him with your eyes.

“Then you can spend it with me.”

And when Friday came, you realized you can’t say no to Jaehyun.

You had an amazing time at the arcade. Even though you only arrived there around four, because of your classes, Jaehyun made sure to show you his favorite games and you even managed to win him sometimes - he will never admit that though, he will insist that he went easy on you. When it was around seven both of you decided to go back, since, now, he finally convinced you to go to the party.

Despite your protests, Jaehyun walked you back to your dorm and gave you one hour to get ready, saying that you shouldn’t be late. You get to your room with a silly smile on your face and spot Jiwoo starting to apply her makeup, but she doesn’t notice you coming in. You notice a dark red dress resting on her bed. It had an insufficient amount of cloth to cover her body on a chilly night like this, but maybe she wouldn’t need to worry about cold weather inside a house full of people dancing.

“I see that you are ready to kill Johnny tonight,” you say loudly, startling her.

“You do this on purpose, don’t you?” she looks at you and rolls her eyes when she looks at your innocent face “Do you like it?” she points at her dress and you nod, “I think Johnny will like it too.”

“Gross,” you joke and she shows you her tongue

“How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date.” you start humming the first song that’s in your head “Do you think I will look too ugly wearing this?” you ask by placing one of your blouses in front of you.

“Why? Where are you going?” Jiwoo doesn’t spare you a glance.

“To the party,” you place the blouse back into the drawer and take one of your favorite t-shirts instead, “Jaehyun told me I had one hour to get ready,” you mumble the last part and the other girl stops everything and slowly turns her body to face you.

“You can’t be serious right now!” a grin adorned her face while she looked at you holding an eyelash extension. “You are so in love with each other.”

“No, we are not. We are just friends,” you state matter-of-factly “He just said I should have some fun and ended up convincing me to go to the party.”

“You say as if it’s easy to convince you to go to frat parties,” she turns back to finish her makeup. “If you give me fifteen minutes, I’ll help you get ready.”

“There’s no need for that, don’t worry.”

“Yes, there is. Go take your shower. Go, go.”

You sigh and make your way to the bathroom. If you were fast enough, you could avoid Jiwoo and the makeover you were sure she was planning. Every time you go to an event together, she makes sure to doll you up. Suddenly, flashes from last Saturday cross your mind. You definitely shouldn’t let her choose your outfit again. The last time didn’t go well.

After showering and washing your hair, you see your phone light up and Jaehyun’s face illustrating the screen. You hung up the call to finish drying your hair, but he insisted another five times before starting messaging.

[Jae - 8:14pm]: do u hate me???

[Jae - 8:14pm]: pick up the phone

[Jae - 8:15pm]: y/n

[Jae - 8:15pm]: if u don’t pick up imma be sad

[Jae - 8:15pm]: :/

[Jae - 8:26pm]: are u ignoring me????

[Jae - 8:28pm]: talk to me

[Jae - 8:28pm]: plssss

[Jae - 8:29pm]: i know u r reading my messages

[You - 8:30pm]: omg

[You - 8:30pm]: u are so annoying

[You - 8:31pm]: i was taking a shower

[You - 8:31pm]: do you want me to be dirty????

[You - 8:31pm]: what do u want?

[Jae - 8:32pm]: i forgive you then

[Jae - 8:32pm]: r u ready?

[You - 8:33pm]: almost? i need to hurry up

[You - 8:33pm]: jiwoo must be ready

[You - 8:34pm]: and i’m going with her

[Jae - 8:34pm]: nooo :(

[You - 8:34pm]: ??

[Jae - 8:35pm]: i’m waiting for you outside

[Jae - 8:35pm]: walk with me instead

You stare at your screen for some seconds before thinking of a reply. Why did Jaehyun come all the way to your dorm to pick you up? Is he insane? Is he trying purposefully making you fall for him just to crush your heart later? Is that the reason why he gave you one hour to get ready? He barely waited thirty minutes, though.

[You - 8:36pm]: ok..

[You - 8:36pm]: i’ll be down in 5

You run back to your room and throw everything on your bed, not caring about the mess. Jiwoo is finishing her hair and was almost ready to put on her shoes. You throw the wet towel that was in your hair on the floor and take the first pair of shoes you find.

“If you are rushing just to avoid me, forget it. You’ll only leave this room once you look presentable to a party. Look at you!” she scoffs but you barely listen to her

“No, not now. I need to go,” you pant and grab the first lipstick you found “Jaehyun’s downstairs.”

“HE WHAT?” she shouts and screams incoherent words afterward. You were sure the whole floor had heard her. “YOU CAN’T MEET HIM LOOKING LIKE A WET DOG. YOU HAVEN’T EVEN DRIED YOUR HAIR PROPERLY!”

“Stop screaming!!” you plead and try to find a hairbrush “It will dry naturally.”

“NATURALLY?” Abigail punches the wall behind Jiwoo but she doesn’t seem to notice or care about it “Come on, if you don’t want to change your outfit, at least let me dry your hair.”

“He has been waiting outside for a while now.”

“It won’t kill him to wait another fifteen minutes.” she grabs the hairdryer and goes to your direction, but you deflect “It’s either the hair or the outfit. You will have to change SOMETHING.”

You know how stubborn your friend can be, so you just drop the matter without fighting and let her do her thing. While you use the hairdryer, she chooses something from your drawers, while threatening to lock you out of your shared room if you don’t wear her outfit.

You regret not running away while you could when she hands you the same black skinny jeans from last time. You should have burned it last week. She chooses a crop top that was probably hers and throws your favorite denim jacket at you.

“Just so you won’t complain about being cold.”

You rush to get to the front of the building as fast as possible, just to find Jaehyun leaning his back against the lamppost. You can’t deny your heart skipped a beat at the sight. He is there, waiting for you. His head is hung low, eyes fixed on his phone. Jaehyun had the same outfit from the first time you met him at your first frat party: long-sleeved black shirt and black skinny jeans, looking just as good as the first time.

“Sorry, I’m late. It’s Jiwoo’s fault,” you say once you’re next to him.

His eyes scan your body up and down and you see a faint smirk on his face. “I like your jeans,” he adds suggestively.

“I hope I won’t feel cold, Jiwoo chose this crop top to wear at night!” you say to yourself, not realizing what the boy has just implied. Jaehyun was behind you, still checking you out, which if you had noticed, would have made you blush “You gave me an hour to get ready, though. I barely had time to dry my hair, it will look ugly later.”

“I doubt it,” he answers back and rushes to hold your hand in his. “Sorry, I guess I just wanted to see you soon.” He notices how you tense up and smiles at the way you tighter your grip around his hands.

“Stop it.” you warn him “You didn’t have to pick me up though, I could go with Jiwoo.”

“I came to pick you up because I heard creeps are hovering around the girl’s dorm.”

“Who told you that?” you ask, adjusting your hands together. Holding Jaehyun’s hand was more pleasing than you wanted to admit. It felt familiar.

“Johnny.” you laugh at him who looks at you confused “What?”

“Do you seriously believe in Johnny? There’s 24/7 security around our building,” you smile at him who mirrors your expression, showing you his dimples. “He just uses it as an excuse to always give Jiwoo a ride,”

“Well, I guess he just worries about his girlfriend,” the boy gives your hand a little squeeze, making you look at him “Tell me when you’ll leave the party so I can walk you back, okay?”

“You don’t need to,” you turn your head to the front. If you keep staring at Jaehyun while he is being so caring, you’ll collapse there and then.

“I want to, silly. It’s dangerous to walk around by yourself at night.”

“So I assume you will fight whoever tries to hurt me?” you ask humorously, a smile on your face.

Jaehyun tried to stay with you the whole night, but his friends weren’t helping. It all started as soon as you got to the house and Taeyong asked him to carry heavy boxes inside and stole your attention away from the boy. When he finally found you again, you were in a circle with Donghyuck, Taeyong, Taeil, and some girls he didn’t recognize, drinking some weird mixture they made. Before he could reach you, though, Yuta forced him to pair up in a beer pong game.

What he hated the most, though, was when he spotted you in the crowd for the third time that night. You were already tipsy, more prone to smile, and your smile was simply breathtaking to Jaehyun. But you weren’t smiling for him. It was Hendery Wong who was making you laugh and it was the other boy’s arm you were holding to steady yourself in place. Jaehyun hated, even more, all the times the boy would lean his body to whisper something to you and how he took advantage of that position to hold you by the waist, his hand resting on your lower back, bringing your bodies closer. Too close to Jaehyun’s liking.

“Stop staring, hyung,” Donghyuck says propping himself up against the kitchen’s counter. “Or else I will think you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous and I’m not staring.” Jaehyun sips his beer without taking his eyes off the couple.

“Yeah, why would you feel jealous of a funny and hot guy who is clearly hitting on Y/N?” Donghyuck says sarcastically and steals the drink from Jaehyun.

“He is shamelessly flirting with her for ages,” The boy tears his gaze apart from the couple to look at the younger who was drinking his beer. “Do you believe he used the ‘I think you are falling for me’ pick up line with her? And then inviting her to have lunch with him when she usually eats with me- us?”

“Who are we talking about?” Yuta arrives with two shot glasses in hand, filled with blue liquid.

“Take a wild guess.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes and goes to the dance floor.

“Do you want it?” the older boy offers and Jaehyun gladly takes it, feeling his throat burning with the alcohol. “What’s going on?”

“Hendery Wong.” the younger says looking back to the tall guy touching your body the way he wanted to.

Yuta follows Jaehyun’s eyes and hisses at the sight “I don’t wanna get punched in the face but” he whistles and looks back at his friend “I don’t blame the kid, she looks hot as fuck tonight.”

“If you don’t wanna get punched, then close this filthy mouth of yours.” Jaehyun’s expression darkens and Yuta only laughs, tapping the guy on the shoulder.

Jaehyun considered approaching you. Fuck him, every time he saw Hendery touching your hair or smiling at you, he wanted to go there and punch that sly smirk out of the boy’s face. What would be his excuse, though? He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so protective around you, but it was eating him up.

“How’s tonight going, Jeffrey?” a cheerful Johnny appeared beside him “You looked so happy playing beer pong with Yuta.”

“Can’t you see I’m having the time of my life,” the younger one says sarcastically and takes the bottle of beer from Johnny’s hand.

“Your face says otherwise,” the tall one chuckles and glances towards you. “Just go there and ask her to dance.”

“She already has a date.” Johnny smiles and waves at someone “I don’t want to bother them.”

“It’s surprising they haven’t caught you staring yet. Jiwoo and I have been watching you and your jealousy attack for more than fifteen minutes.” He shakes hands with two guys who were passing by and complimented his music playlist for the party. “She likes you, you know? I’m sure she would dump anyone if you asked.”

“Why would I ask her that?” Jaehyun sounds offended. He didn’t want you to dump anyone for him. “She’s just a friend. A good friend. That’s why I want the best for her.”

“And I assume that, in your judgment, Hendery is not the best for her,” Johnny sips his drink and nudges his friend “but you are, aren’t you?”

“Hendery is not the best for her and everyone knows it. He is an exchange student, they start dating and what happens when he needs to move back to China?" Jaehyun crosses his arms in front of his chest, visibly irritated. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, please,” the older boy rests his arm on Jaehyun’s shoulder and leans closer to the boy’s ear “Just admit that you like her.”

“I don’t like her like that.”

“Yeah, right, so I guess now you call steamy makeout sessions, friendly conversations.”

“Can you not mention that? I was drunk.” Jaehyun snaps and slaps Johnny’s arm away from him “I only like her as a friend. Stop annoying the shit out of me. You, Donghyuck, Yuta, even Taeyong was bugging me this week. Cut the dating bullshit, for fucks sake!”

“Yeah, you take her on dates, make out with her in our kitchen, and now is jealous of Hendery blatantly flirting with her because you are just friends.” Johnny finishes his drink before placing the empty bottle on the counter “you definitely don’t like her.”

It was probably the alcohol, but Jaehyun was mad. He was so mad that he stormed out of the kitchen before he started a fight with Johnny. Why was everyone pressuring him about jealousy? He was only trying to take care of you. He knew about your little crush on him and that’s why he made sure to tell everyone that you were only friends. And friends care about each other.

He sighs and sits on the sidewalk, away from the party and from the stares. Away from you and Hendery. What was happening to him? He lays his back on the grass and closes his eyes. His mind reminds him of the way you looked so concentrated while watching the boring movie the first time you went out together. You looked so cute, biting your lips and barely blinking. He remembered the way you sang your heart out to all the High School Musical songs and how much he loves making you laugh, just to see your smile. He remembered all the times you tensed up when he held your hands, but after seconds were adjusting yourself. His heart starts beating faster when the image of you sleeping on his bed appears on his mind. The way you were peacefully sleeping beside him and how all he wanted to was hold you and never let go. His skin seems to burn with the memory of the feeling of your fingers tracing his skin, your lips on his and the way you ground against his body last Saturday.

“Fuck,” he mouths.

Lastly, he remembered how unbelievably pretty you look tonight. Damn, Yuta was right, you were hot. You look absolutely stunning and he wants you badly. He sighed thinking about how all of his friends know him so well. How could he keep lying to himself like that? Saying that he isn’t jealous when all he is thinking about is how great it must feel to be in Hendery’s shoes right now.

“What are you doing here?” he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it was.

“I’m tired.”

“Then go to your room. This is literally your house!” you hold his hand and try to force him to stand up “Come on, Jae.”

“I’m fine. Just go back inside. Enjoy the party.” he stays in the same position, eyes completely closed.

You huff in annoyance at his behavior. How dare him, tell you to enjoy the party when you only came because he asked you to.

“If you’re not standing up, then I’m leaving,” you threaten, but the boy doesn’t move. Why was he being like that? “Fine then. Once you decide to tell me what’s wrong, text me. Goodnight, Jae.”

You say, walking away from the boy laying on the grass. Five minutes ago Jiwoo came to you and told you to talk to Jaehyun, he looked stressed. Why was he stressed when he was supposed to have fun? You thought to yourself. But you had to admit you were more relieved than sad for not having the opportunity to spend the night with Jaehyun. After what happened the last time both of you drank a little too much, you decided it was risky to be too close to him and alcohol.

You couldn’t stop thinking about his actions, though. Movie dates, the way he always looked after you, he even remembered how much you wanted to go to an arcade and took you there. Your heart was confused. Could it be more than friendship? You cherished Jaehyun beyond anything you could explain, you didn’t want to ruin things with him.

You might have started your relationship weirdly. Looking back to the day you woke up beside him after a party, it felt like years ago. Because that’s exactly how Jaehyun makes you feel like you’ve known him for years. The more you got to know him, the more he seemed to grow on you. He was sweet, caring, and an absolute dork. He never failed to make you laugh and was always ready to listen to what you had to say, either if it was a joke or if you were just complaining about something. He would let you use his expensive pens just because you were curious about how they were. He listened to your messy playlist even though he absolutely hated 70% of the songs you put there. He is interested in you as a person. He makes you feel special and you can’t express how much you are happy to be by his side.

“Y/N, I told you that I would walk you home!” he shouts from behind you. “Wait for me.”

You hate how he could make your heart beat faster just by calling your name

“I thought you wanted to be alone.” you shrug and slow down your pace.

“Why are you walking so slowly?” he grabs your hand and pulls you forward “Just because I’m walking you it doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of someone attacking us at 1 in the morning.” you laugh at his sentence and he can’t fight back the smile that appears on his face.

“What happened to the guy who said he would protect me?” you question him, poking his ribs.

“I’ll only fight people unless it’s completely necessary. I don’t know if you realized, but I prefer to avoid confrontation.” his thumb starts caressing the back of your hand and you feel butterflies flying on your stomach.

“I like this way,” you softly say “I wouldn’t want to see you hurting.”

“Stop saying things like that, it makes me wanna kiss you,” he mumbles.

It makes me wanna kiss you.

Did you hear it correctly? Was he jokingly flirting with you or did he mean that? You didn’t have the guts to ask. The rest of the walk was silent, the only noise coming from your rhythmic steps on the concrete. Once you see the back of your building, informing you you are close to your destination, you try to take your hands away from Jaehyun’s grasp, but he only holds it tighter.

“No,” he pleaded quietly “not yet.”

You hum in response and keep walking beside him, holding his hand.

“Text me when you get home,” you say to him once you are in front of your building. You wait for him to leave so you can get inside, but he doesn’t move. “Are you not going home? Do you need anything?”

“I do.”

“What is it?”

“Can you hug me?”

Your breath is caught on your throat at his sudden request. What was wrong with Jaehyun tonight? You didn’t know he became clingy when he drank. Either way, you comply with his request and circle your arms around his waist and place your head on his chest. Jaehyun was warmer than remembered. You hear his heartbeat increase and smile softly. Was he as nervous as you were?

“Don’t date Hendery,” he blurts out and you frown, not understanding where this came from.

“Why would I-”

“I was so fucking pissed at the way he looked at you and it killed me that I don’t have the right to complain about it because we are just friends,” he says in one breath and you try to get away from his hold to have a look at his face, but he holds you closer “The way he touched you got me frustrated to the point that I had to go outside or I would have picked up a fight.”

“He was just being-”

“I swear to god, if you say friendly, I’ll kill myself,” he says pushing you away from him and you can see him scowling at you.

“He was being too friendly,” you say smiling mischievously and Jaehyun scoffs.

“Weren’t you uncomfortable with the way he was holding you?” he asked in disbelief.

“To be honest, I think you are exaggerating. I was really tipsy, he was just making sure I wouldn’t fall.” you say and Jaehyun rolls his eyes “What? He was basically just hugging me. We hug all the time.”

“You two hug all the time?” he almost screams and you put your hand on his lips.

“Shhh don’t scream!” you say, moving your hand from his lips to his shoulder. “I meant us. You and me. You hug me all the time too.”

“But I’m your friend and he is your student, who is clearly hitting on you, by the way,” he says placing his hands on your hips, but you don’t seem to realize.

“What, Jaehyun, is this jealousy?” you smile as the words leave your lips as a joke

“Yes, this is fucking jealousy.” he snaps for the second time tonight “I am fucking jealous because that kid has been hitting on you since you first started tutoring him and you don’t realize that.”

“Woah, hold on! Stop saying nonsense.”

“You are so frustrating,” he mumbles and brings you closer by circling his arms around your waist. “Please don’t date Hendery.”

“I won’t date any-”

"Date me instead."

You feel someone sliding their hand into the back pocket of your jeans and smirk.

“Stop that,” you nudge his side “frat boy.”

“Why do you keep pretending you don’t like it when I do this?” Jaehyun rolls his eyes and brings you closer to his side “Lunch at 1?”

“It’s good for me.” you nod and stay on your toes to reach for his cheeks. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“It got canceled,” he says taking his hand out of your pocket and placing it on your waist. “Let me carry those for you.”

“It’s fine, we’re almost there.”

“Let me be a good boyfriend and carry your stuff for you.” he takes the books out of your hands and kisses your temple.

You have been dating for a while now, but every time he reminds you he is your boyfriend, it never fails to make your heart flutter. You smile widely, poking the dimples on his face and Jaehyun pretends to be annoyed, when, in fact, he loved how happy you looked.

Once you arrived at the main building, you thought Jaehyun would leave you by yourself, but he made sure to escort you to the study room. Once you turn down the hall, your boyfriend spots a certain someone waiting for you outside. Jaehyun stops a few meters away and hands you your books back, but before you can thank him, he pulls you by your belt loops and crashes his lips on yours.

You get surprised at his sudden action but kisses him for a little while after pushing him with your books, whining about being in public. Jaehyun finishes by giving pecks on your neck, jaw, and cheek. Before you can ask why he did that, you spot the long haired Chinese boy in front of library's the study room. He is clearly avoiding looking at your direction. You hit your boyfriend’s arm with the books on your hands.

“I can’t believe you were putting on a show with Hendery standing right there. You are so childish.”

“Yet, you love me the same,” he snickers, giving you one last peck on the lips “I just want to make sure he knows you’re taken.”

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