#oh it feels nice to finish a project.

[magentagalaxies]

vent incoming:

got my grades back for my courses last semester and most of it was to be expected, mostly A's, maybe an A-, etc. but i honestly can't get over the fact that my independent study (the buddy cole documentary) was for some reason given a B. like sure getting a B isn't bad per se, I usually get at least one B every semester and i honestly don't really care about what my exact gpa is as long as i can graduate, but come on. this school put me through months of psychological torment over this project and didn't even have the nerve to give me a B+??? i'm still coping with the self-doubt they forced on me and this bullshit is not helping!!

[your-fave-is-bi]

Oh also we got together with some friends and we all hung out n did crafts for an entire afternoon the other day n it was so fun and chill AND

I finished all the pieces for my cardigan!

I’m gonna try n block it a little so the edges dont curl as much but!!! Cardigan!!! Almost wearable!!!

[sysig]

I'm almost finished with this notebook with it's horrible paper, and I just finished the first page of my Big Project

[anbroids]

hs interest dwindling from rabid derangement to casual interest… wistful sigh

[hoshigray]

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example. 

Yes, you have a boyfriend. 

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material. 

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more. 

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true. 

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears. 

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?” 

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases. 

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?” 

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle. 

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm. 

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some— 

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace. 

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs. 

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?” 

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right? 

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries. 

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire. 

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots.  So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!” 

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.” 

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…” 

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.  

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves. 

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours. 

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties! 

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun. 

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It��s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice. 

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?” 

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.” 

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction. 

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking. 

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider. 

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.” 

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room. 

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in. 

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.” 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by alp (ringoya) + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Guessssss what time it is??

7am

Guess who's still awake?

Me

Guess who has to feed their dog in two hours, and get ready for work in five hours?

Me

And guess who has to have a camp meeting directly after their work shift? And has to actually be coherent and make a schedule and discuss their ideas and needs for the summer?

Yeah you probs got it

Guess who won't be coherent for it?

Yeah

[reshinless]

Imagine

Kinich with

With a breeding kink

Imagine him not allowed to finish inside at the beginning, but gods does he beg to

Eventually reader gives in and allows him to

Hhhhhhhhes so jekfmekdkfke😞

──── i wanna see some!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. baby fever & kinich (i cant think of anything aesthetic)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. thank you all again for 1k, i might be a bit slow with posts since projects are going crazy at class rn sob

kinich who has to plead and beg to cum inside of you. even if it is in the heat of the moment; there's no shame in asking, you are his partner after all.

after a few times where stress gets to you and you both wanna relieve it (sex)- you might as well indulge into the activity, right?

but after a few more tries, you can sense how tempted your lover was to keep your hips attached to his before he came, literally having to ask you with that oh-so-whiny voice.

"ah- pretty, please- ahhn- fffuck let me cum in you- need it s'bad." you felt bad hearing how desperate he was, but no no no you both had lives outside of this. it could be a lot of hassle. jokes on you though because he already has baby names planned out for them ^_^

so in love with the way your hole just takes him so good he can't help but ask more and more, it'd be an honor to orgasm with you anyway, he wouldn't have it any other way.

kinich who already had your legs hoisted up on his shoulder, his gloved grip strong against the plush of your thighs, archons was he hot. "p- please.. c'mon i've been treating you real nice, right? let me breed you." he whispered into your ear as he leaned forward.

ever since he saw you with mualani's baby niece in your arms, cooing to her like how any parent would. making the small child in your arms smile, and giggle at your peekaboo attempts, or how you tickled her with a sense of gentleness.

what would your kids with him look like? shit he could already imagine.. his black-blue hair and your (e/c) colored eyes. or what if they had your hair, and his eyes? or maybe they'd be your little carbon copy, and take after their dad for personality. his mind hasn't stopped ever since seeing the situation unfold in front of him.

but when you finally let him, of course he has to build up the best orgasm for you both to share! fitting his head into the crook of your neck; "what do you think our kids would look like? or act like?" it felt like the more he talked, the faster he went. "mmph.. maybe i jus' wanna see you with a round belly. jus' wanna see you bearing our child."

he could already imagine life after you've given birth, what would he name them if it were to be a girl, or perhaps a boy? maybe a mixture of both of your names? or let you decide?

"ahh- u- uhuh? you like the way i thrust into you, right? i'd hate for you to be uncomfortable." he hummed as he continued drilling his cock into you. your hole was already so wet from the previous foreplay beforehand, well of course when you let him cum inside, he'll want a taste of your pussy before it's alllll gone!

he'll still ask you if he could kiss you right after. he wants to make what'll happen now special for you and him to look back onto in the future. laughing or not at the past, he'll make sureit's memorable..

of course by the evident, and growing bulge in your tummy. oh fffuck you could feel it coming already-

"d- don't cum yet, p- pretty. w'na do it together." he mumbles out, barely being able to control himself, he placed one of your stray palms onto the mark on your stomach. "you feel me inside you?"

you couldn't help but let out a loud moan, throwing your head back before he quickly pulls your hair to look back at him.

"don't look anywhere else, pretty, i wanna see the way you look when i make you cream on my dick while i cum too. okay?"

you could hear the loud sound of his shaft slapping against you loudly in the stray hallways of the outside lobby of the hotel you both stayed in- previously on a mission.

even what felt like the fifteenth time you've came on his cock again, it just seemed like it only throbbed, continuously hard throughout all your climaxes. each dominant vein on his cock you could feel, the way his grip tightened around your waist as he took the gloves on his hands with his mouth to make sure not to waste a drop.

"mmf- k- kin i'm g'na-" you try to close your thighs, but to no avail, as kinich's palm, previously on your hair, moves swiftly to keep them open. "i know y'can take me baby, don't worry."

kinich who wrapped a possessive arm around you as you came, holding your waist close to his as you came. as his warm load shot up inside you, letting you arch your back all you wanted on the base of his cock. your arms instinctively rang around his neck, still shaking, trembling almost from coming with him.

he slowly let you lay down on the comfort of the pillows.

he leans down next to you, his fingers still keeping themselves inside your hole.

"not a drop wasted, 'kay?"

he couldn't wait 'till the day came that he'd be able to see kids of both your descents-

"what's with all the-" ajaw's jaw drops at the scene of you cuddling, and kinich hand still inside your hole.

"..." "..YOU ARE DISGUSTING!!"

i kind of ran out mid way for ideas, so sorry if this isn't what you were looking for sob

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Pleasure Equation: When the Nerd Solves Everything, Including You

Nayeon x Male Reader

word count: 8.2k

a/n: Yo, my first published smut. I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me what you think.

—

You're lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, in the 21st century, universities still think pairing people for projects is a good idea. Plus, you're terrible at this subject. Advanced Calculus? They might as well call it "How to Ruin My Weekend." The only saving grace is that your partner, Nayeon, the biggest nerd in class, will handle most of it. For you, it seems like a golden ticket: she does the work, and you pretend you helped. It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

The doorbell rings. Of course, it’s her. You were expecting it—you could almost time Nayeon's nerdy punctuality. And, as always, she looks like the picture-perfect good girl—cardigan, glasses, skirt, that innocent, serious air of someone more interested in spreadsheets than in people. The kind of girl most guys wouldn't look at twice. But you, well, you had to look. It was obligatory since she was going to carry your weight in this project.

You open the door, and there she is, laptop under her arm, shy smile and everything you imagined. The nerd who's here to save your semester.

What you didn’t know—and God knew you were about to find out—is that Nayeon had planned a different type of study for this project.

She walks in with that confident stride that only people who are either extremely smart or who know the subject is your lifeline have. And honestly, you’re not ready for the energy she brings.

“Hi,” she says, glancing around your house, skipping any small talk.

“Hey, Nayeon. Nice to have you here.” You try to sound more enthusiastic than you really are. “Want anything? Water, juice, tea?” you offer, hoping to buy yourself a few more minutes of procrastination before facing the project.

“No, thanks.” She looks at you over her glasses, almost as if she’s analyzing your soul. “I think we should just get started. The sooner we finish, the better.”

“Yeah, better,” you think. And with that, off you go to your bedroom. Yes, the bedroom, because it’s the only place in the house that seems even remotely presentable. There are piles of books (that you haven’t read, just skimmed for the basics), notebooks with ridiculously short notes you took, some clothes scattered here and there... oh, and your unmade but perfectly comfortable bed, where you sit on the edge. It was a clinically tidy room compared to the living room or the kitchen.

Nayeon doesn't seem to care about anything. She sits at the desk chair and opens her laptop.

The project, of course, is about "Modeling Algebraic Functions for the Optimization of Industrial Processes." Or something equally mind-numbing that only Nayeon seems to understand. You’re more lost than someone trying to solve a Rubik's cube in the dark. And it’s all because of your dad, who, in his non-threatening way, persuaded you to follow the family career path. Damn Engineering (and tradition).

Nayeon, as always, is already deep into the work, fingers flying over the keyboard while her glasses slip to the tip of her nose, balancing dangerously between focused nerd and, well... ¿sexy? nerd?

Not that you’d admit that.

She glances at you, and for a second, you almost feel like she expects you to say something useful. Which, of course, would be a grave miscalculation. Literally.

“So, I thought you could start with the part about differential equations,” she says, making the suggestion with the ease of someone asking you to hold a cup, when what she’s really offering is a grand piano. “And then the graphs…”

You pretend to be genuinely interested. Which means nodding in a way that could be mistaken for understanding if someone looked quickly, but in reality, you're utterly lost.

“Oh, sure, differential equations…” you repeat, as if the words held any special meaning. They don’t.

Nayeon sighs and goes back to typing, clearly aware of the level of uselessness you're operating at. She’s probably already mentally dividing the entire project, calculating how many extra hours she'll need to cover for the fact that you're, essentially, dead weight.

“Maybe you could review the introduction,” she suggests, polite but with the patience of someone talking to a child who still doesn’t know the difference between shapes.

You scratch your head, pretending to read the introduction she’s already written. One, two lines. Everything looks very... professional. You attempt to seem helpful:

“You know, I think you’re... um... doing great with this. Maybe... maybe I should focus more on the creative part of the project, like... the presentation design?” you suggest, smiling, as if making a PowerPoint full of silly animations was an undervalued talent in academia.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Design?” Nayeon asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “In an Advanced Calculus project? You want to fill the presentation with glitter and stars, is that it?”

“Hey, glitter makes everything better,” you reply, defensive, but unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe throw in some memes to lighten the mood… People love memes... I guess.”

“I’m not sure if you're joking or if you've completely given up on life,” Nayeon mutters, with a short, dry laugh, returning to the keyboard.

You shift on the bed, trying to find a position that seems less like a desperate student and more like someone slightly focused on the project. The silence is broken only by the sound of her typing and your occasional murmur of fake approval: “Hmm, sure, that makes sense…”

It doesn’t.

Then, out of nowhere, Nayeon looks at you again, but this time with a different kind of curiosity. There’s something in her eyes, something that goes beyond pure calculation—and we’re not talking about the equations.

“You live alone, right?” The question comes casually, almost innocently. Almost.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” you answer, a bit confused by the sudden shift. “Why?”

“Just... curious,” she replies, but the smile she gives is far from innocent. “It must be nice living alone. I bet you can do whatever you want, right? No one around to hear...”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Like... I can have pizza for breakfast without being judged. And play video games late. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

Nayeon laughs, but in a way that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, like she knows something you don’t.

“And... what do you mean by ‘do whatever you want’?” you ask, hesitant but unable to resist the curiosity.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, looking away for a second. “Just thinking... it must be interesting. Having that kind of freedom.”

She pauses and looks directly at you again, her fingers sliding slowly across the keyboard, as if the project was now the last thing on her mind.

“Tell me something... what’s your type?” The question lands like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sending ripples of confusion through you.

You almost choke.

“My... type?” you repeat, as if it’s a math problem with too many variables.

“Yeah, like... what do you find attractive in someone?” Nayeon continues, her voice far too casual for the situation. She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours.

“Well, I dunno.” You shift uncomfortably. “I guess... someone fun, you know? Someone who can make me laugh.”

“Hmm. And me?” Nayeon tilts her head, her glasses now low enough to reveal her sharp eyes behind them. “Do I make you laugh?”

You freeze, because the right answer to this feels like a trap.

Sure, Nayeon’s made you laugh plenty of times, especially when she freaks out over losing half a point on a test. But that doesn’t seem like the kind of "laugh" she’s asking about.

“Uh, yeah, of course!” you respond, quickly. “I mean, in a good way. Not that I’m laughing *at* you, but... you know what I mean, right?”

She smiles, and you’re not sure if she’s satisfied with your answer or just amused by your nervousness.

“You know,” Nayeon continues, “I think I prefer guys who... know what they want. Guys with attitude.”

You nod, trying to process what’s happening.

“Oh, sure. Attitude is always good, right?” you reply, having no idea where this conversation is heading.

She looks at you in a way that feels almost predatory, and you realize that, somehow, whatever control you thought you had over this situation (even a little) now belongs entirely to her.

“Do you have it?” she asks. “Attitude?”

At that moment, you realize two things: first, Nayeon isn’t interested in solving differential equations today. And second, you probably should’ve agreed to do the graphs.

You feel the pressure of the question like a multiple-choice exam where all the answers seem wrong.

"Now?" you stammer, as if time itself is about to collapse. "Uh… I don’t know, I think we’re in the middle of a project, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt…"

"Interrupt?" She lets out a short laugh. "I think work went out the window a long time ago, don’t you?"

With that, she stands up, closing the laptop, and starts walking slowly around the room, as if inspecting the space, or maybe just teasing you on purpose. Every step she takes seems more choreographed than anything you’ve ever seen on stage.

Suddenly, she stops, untying her hair and shaking it loose.

"You know," she continues, turning her gaze back to you, "I thought of a way to make things more interesting."

Your brain, of course, is already in full panic mode, but your mouth, as always, insists on trying to sound casual.

"Really? Interesting how?" you ask, hoping the answer isn’t something like "Russian roulette."

She crosses her arms. You realize that, at some point, you completely lost any chance of controlling your own fate.

"A game," Nayeon says, with a sly smile. "Let’s play a game. What do you say?"

"What kind of game?" you ask, already regretting letting curiosity win over survival instinct.

"Oh, don’t worry, nothing too crazy," she replies, shrugging as if the suggestion were perfectly innocent. "Something fun, to relax, since the project clearly isn’t going anywhere today."

She steps closer to you, with that conspiratorial air of someone about to suggest something really dangerous.

"What do you think?" she whispers, lowering her voice. "You up for playing with me?"

"Err... depends on the game, right?" you reply, trying to sound laid-back.

Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, and the smile on her lips is pure provocation.

"Let’s see… How about something simple?" she suggests, her eyes never leaving yours. "Questions and answers. To test what you've been learning in the course."

"Just that?" you ask, half skeptical, half curious.

She speaks with a lightness that contrasts the intensity of her proposal:

"Of course not. For every question you get right, I’ll take off a piece of clothing."

You blink. Blink again. And then a third time, just to make sure you heard correctly.

"What?" you blurt out, a laugh escaping before you can control it. "You’re kidding, right?"

Nayeon crosses her arms, that crafty smile still on her face. Apparently, she’s not kidding.

"I’m dead serious. And if you manage to make me take off everything, I’ll give you a prize."

"A prize?" You try to keep your composure, but all you can think about is that maybe studying Calculus isn’t so bad after all. "What kind of prize?"

Nayeon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifts her skirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties — white, of course, because even in this, she has to be precise and teasing.

You swallow hard, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rises by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with global warming.

"Hm... okay, let’s go," you respond, trying to sound casual, but in reality, your mind is a complete mess. Who knew the class nerd had this side to her?

"Great." Nayeon giggles before adjusting her glasses and kicking off her shoes to, let’s say, get more comfortable. "First question: What’s the basic principle of algebraic function modeling applied to industrial process optimization?"

You stare at her. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy game. Your brain tries, with herculean effort, to remember what the hell that means.

"Hm… I think… it’s using equations to simplify a complex process?" you guess.

She smiles.

"Well, close enough. You got the general concept," she says.

She starts with the most innocent pieces, of course. The cardigan that you barely noticed she was wearing, because let’s be honest, your focus was more on the project — or on how not to do it... Well, at least that’s what you thought. Now, the focus has definitely changed. Every button that opens feels like a small personal victory. And before you know it, the cardigan is on the floor. She looks at you with a sly smile.

"Shall we continue?"

"Damn right, I’m enjoying this!"

"How do you define an improper integral?"

You blink. Of course, she’d come up with one of those questions you never knew the answer to.

"An… improbable integral?"

She laughs, a clear, almost musical sound that fills the room. If Nayeon were the type of person who enjoyed academically torturing others, she was definitely on the right track.

"I’ll give you a hint," she leans forward, just enough for you to see part of the top underneath her perfectly white blouse. "It has something to do with limits."

Limits. Of course. Yours are being tested in a different way. You vaguely remember the professor mentioning something about this, between naps.

"Oh, right! It’s when the interval goes to infinity, right?" you venture, your heart already beating faster.

"Correct!" She claps her hands, feigning innocent excitement that definitely doesn’t match the way her hands move toward the buttons of her blouse. One button, two, three... and soon, Nayeon’s blouse is off, revealing a black camisole, tight enough to show that she had planned all of this meticulously.

You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Now, you’re invested in the game.

"Next question: What are the three most common methods to solve a system of linear equations?"

Linear equations? Of course, you slept through that class. But then… things start to click.

"Elimination, substitution, and… matrices."

"You’re getting the hang of it, huh?" she says, her voice almost a purr.

Without hesitation, she leans back a little and, with a slow, sensual gesture, removes the black camisole, now revealing a delicate white bra, almost the same shade as her skin.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but somehow, you’re starting to enjoy the game, and oddly enough, math too. Well, this is definitely a more rewarding way to learn something you don’t like.

"Now an easier one," she teases, as if giving you a break. "How do you calculate the area under a curve?"

You swallow hard, not because of the question, but because Nayeon is crossing her arms in a way that’s far from casual, emphasizing even more what’s... well, on display.

"Definite integrals," you answer quickly, perhaps with more enthusiasm than necessary.

She gives a small round of applause, but this time doesn’t make any immediate move to take off anything else.

"Very good! But... are you sure you want to continue?" she asks, tilting her head, as her fingers rest on the zipper of her skirt.

You’re not sure if you want to continue the game or skip straight to the “prize,” but whatever it is, you need this girl naked. But for that you need to concentrate, but how would you do it? It's certainly not easy. Not when she runs her fingers, provocatively slow, to the zipper of her skirt.

“Alright, just one more, then,” she says, with a false lightness that only adds to the tension in the air, “a simpler one, I promise. If you get it right, I’ll take off one more piece. If you get it wrong… the game’s over.”

Your mind is racing, a mix of nerves and pure curiosity. After all, how did you end up here, being quizzed by Nayeon, The Nerd™? And now, The Nerd™ was about to strip.

Weird world.

“Okay… ask the question,” you say, trying to seem calm. Just trying.

Nayeon raises an eyebrow, still toying with the zipper of her skirt, but not pulling it down at all, just… waiting. “What’s Stokes' theorem?” she asks.

You almost laugh. Not really, more like a nervous chuckle that escapes before you realize… crap, you actually don’t remember.

“Erm…” you begin, desperately searching for some vague memory of a class you definitely slept through.

Nayeon doesn’t miss the look of panic on your face.

“Ah, struggling?” she asks, her voice sweetly sadistic. “How about a hint?” She leans in, the skirt still untouched, but in a deliberate move, she adjusts her bra, already more revealing than it should be, giving you a clear view of her generous cleavage.

You clear your throat, dying a little inside but trying to maintain your composure.

“Uh, it has to do with surface integrals, right? Something about flows… and vectors…”

“Exactly! Flows and vectors,” she repeats, satisfied. And then, in an almost innocent gesture, as if she were merely taking off an uncomfortable shoe after a long day, she pulls the zipper of the skirt, which slides down her legs, hitting the floor like it didn’t even matter, revealing her bare legs and white panties. Her thighs are even more perfect than you imagined—toned, lightly defined. Your throat dries up as if you’ve just run a marathon, but the only thing racing is your heart.

Honestly, you’re never really prepared for every time she gets more and more exposed. She places a hand on her hip, looking at you with that expression that makes you wonder how you never realized this before—that yes, Nayeon, the “nerd” of the class, was a girl far more complex than any Stokes theorem.

“So, what now? Want to continue or… are you satisfied?” She pouts adorably, challenging you, and you know, at that moment, that she wants you to keep going. After all, she’s having way too much fun.

You take a deep breath, determined, even though your mind is light-years away from any coherent thought.

“Sure. Next question. I’m going to win my prize.”

“What a determined guy,” Nayeon chuckles softly, with that teasing air, as if you were on a quiz show and not in some sort of erotically torturous strip game for the brave. “Alright then… explain the principle of superposition.”

She knew you had no idea. You knew that she knew. But what did it matter? What mattered was that your eyes were glued to every movement she made. She tilted her head, playing with the strap of her bra.

You think for a moment. Superposition… electric fields… sure, you got this.

“It’s when, hmm…” your voice cracks, but you force yourself to sound confident. “It’s when the sum of the effects of multiple causes is equal to the sum of the individual causes. Each field acts like the others aren’t even there.”

She leans in, subtly, fiddling with the strap of her bra, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Exactly,” she says, letting the strap fall with a slow motion from one shoulder. And then, from the other. “Congratulations.”

The bra falls to the floor.

You try, honestly try, to keep your focus on what’s happening, but there’s a problem. Actually, two, and both of them are right in front of you, fully exposed. No matter how much your mind insists that you need to concentrate on the game… you simply can’t.

“J-just one more question, right?” You stammer, desperately trying to focus on your shoes, the wall, anything but… well, Nayeon, and the fact that she was now practically naked.

She leans forward slightly, arms “casually” crossed, and you’re convinced she did this just to make sure your brain imploded. One of her breasts lightly brushes against her arm, and your mind screams something between HELP and THANK YOU.

"Exactly,” she says, and there’s a hint of malice in her voice, that tone that indicates she knows by now you’re one step away from a complete meltdown. “One last question. If you get it right… you win your prize. If you get it wrong… you’ll do the entire project alone.”

Your head throbs, struggling to focus on anything besides her smooth skin and the hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

“Alone?” you repeat, dumbfounded. A simple word, but you can barely get it out.

She bites her lip, enjoying herself. And then, in the most seductive voice possible, she drops the bomb:

“Of course… if you mess up now in the final minutes, you’ll have to do it all on your own. But if you get it right, you’ll see what’s under this,” she pulls at the side of her white panties slightly, just enough to let your imagination spin. “And who knows what else…” Her voice is a caress wrapped in pure temptation.

Yeah, it’s worth the risk.

Focus, you tell yourself, as if that’s remotely possible. Here you are, in a state of complete mental confusion, and Nayeon is there, almost naked, suggesting there’s just one question left before… well, paradise. And hell, too, because clearly, you wouldn’t survive doing this fucked-up project alone.

“Alright, let’s go,” you force the words out. “What’s the last question?”

Nayeon smiles in a way that says, I got you. And of course, she did. She leans in again, this time closer, her panties still firmly in place, but for how long?

“Ready for this?” she murmurs, with the tone of a final temptation. “What law of electromagnetism describes the relationship between the circulation of a magnetic field along a closed path and the electric current passing through the surface enclosed by that path?”

You freeze. Your mind is almost there, trying to grab the answer from some corner not focused on the fact that Nayeon is practically naked in front of you.

“Uh…” you begin, Nayeon sways her hips as she waits. “It’s… it’s…” you struggle. Nothing. Your mind is completely blank, a screen of static.

Nayeon sighs, as if she’s genuinely disappointed. Of course she’s not. She’s having way too much fun for that.

“Need a hint?” she offers, with a smile as sweet as it is devastating.

You nod desperately. Anything, for God’s sake, anything to help!

She whispers softly, “This law introduced the concept of ‘displacement current.’”

You blink, and then, as if by some miracle, the answer comes to you. But before you can speak it aloud, Nayeon leans in again and your traitorous eyes glance at her exposed breasts.

You almost forget the answer entirely, but a slip or whatever that was makes you say, “Ampère-Maxwell’s Law,” your voice trembling, unsure if physics is about to save you or be the last nail in the coffin of your sanity.

Nayeon looks you up and down.

She approved.

Slowly, as if savoring the moment, in a exaggeratedly calculated movement, she pulls her panties down, revealing everything.

Her curves are so smooth they seem hand-carved by some Renaissance artist with a thing for naughty nerd girls. Her entire body is a work of art, every inch of her pure perfection, and as she moves closer, you feel like you’re about to lose control for good.

Nayeon sits beside you, her legs slightly apart so you can see her tight little pussy. She looks you up and down, the same look that used to seem like someone fully focused on her studies, now carrying much more obvious intentions.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem as out of control as you really are.

"Yeah... Very much..." you respond, your voice rougher than usual, and before you know it, Nayeon is leaning in closer, her body heat practically radiating onto you.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispers, her lips just inches from yours. The suggestion lingers in the air, and your body seems to move on its own. Your hand rises, hesitant, until it reaches her breasts, your fingers feeling the smoothness of her skin and the firmness that makes you forget about any equation or college project. You squeeze lightly, and Nayeon lets out a soft sigh that drives you even crazier.

She leans in more, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes are gleaming.

"I’ve always liked you, you know?" she confesses, lightly biting her lower lip as her hand slides down your chest. "I've always thought you were really hot… and smart, too. You just needed a little help focusing on what matters. You’ve got potential, you just need to get rid of the distractions."

You chuckle nervously, still trying to process what’s happening.

"I never imagined you were like this… You always seemed so… well-behaved." The words come out with difficulty, your mind still reeling between what you thought you knew about Nayeon and what you're discovering now.

She laughs softly, amused, her eyes half-closed as she replies.

"You can’t judge a book by its cover," she says, her voice almost a whispered secret, as if she’s letting you in on something few people are privileged to know.

She then pulls your hand to her waist, and you squeeze, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body under your fingers. Nayeon’s body fits against yours in a way that feels almost orchestrated. Her hands, agile and confident, slide down to your thigh, in a way that makes your breathing quicken even more.

And then you feel her touch on your groin. It’s a slow tease, and she looks into your eyes with a smile that’s almost victorious.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.

Your heart is racing so fast you can barely think of a coherent response, but you nod, without hesitation.

"I do." The word escapes your lips, more of a groan than a response.

Nayeon smiles, that wicked smile you would never have associated with the girl who sat in the front row of the class.

"I’ve been dying to," she murmurs, the heat between you two rising with each second, promising much more than just an intellectual debate.

Nayeon kneels between your legs and prepares to take off her glasses. At that moment, it seems like the last facade of the “well-behaved nerd” is about to fall along with them. But you, in a sudden impulse of something even Freud would hesitate to analyze, reach out and say, almost automatically, “No, leave the glasses on. I like you like that.”

She stops, her fingers still hovering over the frames, and smiles in a way only someone about to change your fate could.

"Really?" She tilts her head, clearly liking the idea. Not just liking it—loving it. The kind of smile she gives you is one of someone who’s just gained a new strategic advantage in the game.

"Can you… do it… with the glasses on?" you ask, and honestly, now that the words are in the air, the question seems less weird than it should.

"Of course. If that’s what you want," Nayeon replies, the smile gaining an edge of provocation that makes you wonder if she hadn’t planned this all along.

She reaches for your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. Nayeon touches your cock, and the sensation makes you realize how small her hands are. With incredibly soft fingers, she grips it firmly, as if evaluating something rare, a treasure she’s just found. Her eyes, still behind the lenses, look up at you.

"Wow..." she murmurs, impressed. "It’s so… big and thick.”

If you had any chance of keeping your composure, it vanished with that sentence.

"Your hand… is so soft," you manage to say, your brain desperately trying to keep up with what’s happening.

Nayeon smiles.

"Oh, if you liked that, just wait until I put it in my mouth."

And that’s exactly what she does. Nayeon spits into her palm, the quick, indecent sound echoing in the room, and starts stroking you, her touch now sliding with the ease of something well-lubricated, almost clinical—if it weren’t absolutely pornographic.

And then, with little warning, she swallows.

Just like that. As if she’d been trained at some secret school of forbidden pleasure, her mouth wraps around your cock, warm, wet, and with a desire bordering on voracious. She looks up at you from below, her glasses still firmly in place.

You writhe in pleasure. Nothing else matters. Not the project, not life’s worries. Just Nayeon, and the way she sucks, kisses, and takes you deep, with a dedication that would make anyone believe she’s indeed “studying” something.

"I’m going to use my breasts now," she says, stopping briefly, her voice slightly hoarse, as she adjusts her breasts, squeezing them around your cock.

Ah, Nayeon’s breasts. Warm, soft, and incredibly seductive, they create the perfect “pillow” as she starts giving you a titjob. And the glasses? Still there, perfectly framing her face, turning this whole thing into an improbable, yet wonderful fantasy.

The sensation of her breasts pressing against your cock is a next-level delight. Nayeon, with a mischievous look and a voice barely above a whisper, asks, "Are you enjoying this, babe?"

You can only groan in response, the sensation so intense that words refuse to form properly. Her breasts move up and down, creating a warm, sweaty pressure that’s almost indescribable. She adjusts the rhythm.

"This is..." you manage to say, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Fuck, this is amazing."

The pleasure builds, a rising heat that seems to have a life of its own as Nayeon keeps working her magic. Her breasts, pressing and rubbing with delicious intensity, create waves of pleasure that only get stronger.

As the rhythm quickens, Nayeon gives a satisfied smile. Her breasts continue to move up and down, the sensation around your cock hot and wet, and you feel the pressure and heat mounting.

You start to squirm, the sensations growing more and more intense. The pleasure is so overwhelming it feels like your body is on the verge of exploding. Nayeon adjusts the pressure and pace, making every touch and movement you feel even more intense.

“Am I making you feel good?” Nayeon asks.

You can only nod, the feeling of being on the brink of climax almost overwhelming. Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel yourself nearing the point of no return... something Nayeon hadn’t anticipated.

Then, just as the pleasure reaches an almost unbearable level, you cum. The first spurt surprises her, landing on her face. She stays there, wide-eyed and gasping, her glasses now smeared with your semen. She accepts what happened and keeps stroking you, and the second, weaker spurt drips down onto her breasts, slowly trickling. She finishes the job by rubbing your cock on her chest, spreading your cum all over her breasts until they’re thoroughly messy. When she stops, you exhale, feeling like you’re in paradise.

“Fuck… that was so damn good, Nayeon…”

She stays still for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and indignation. The intensity of your orgasm seems to have caught her so off guard that even she needs a moment to process it.

“Why did you cum?!” Nayeon asks, removing her glasses, her voice filled with a mix of irritation and unfulfilled desire. “You haven’t even fucked me yet!”

Breathless and slightly embarrassed, you try to defuse the situation.

“Well, take it as a compliment,” you say, a sheepish smile forming on your face. “You’re just too hot for me to handle.”

Luckily for you, this makes Nayeon smile, the irritation melting into a flush. She relaxes, though still with a teasing edge.

“Tsk. But next time, don’t cum on my glasses,” she says, her voice softer now. “But if it felt good for you, I guess I can forgive it. Just know that I’ll make sure you get hard for me again,” she says with an authority that makes her even more irresistible.

Nayeon moves closer, slowly, like a predator about to capture its prey, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and mischief. You feel the air shift as she approaches, as though the entire room is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low but filled with an authority that makes you obey without hesitation.

In an instant, you’re naked, sitting on the bed, vulnerable, your heart pounding faster. Nayeon watches you, a smile spreading across her lips, like she’s admiring a masterpiece she’s about to perfect. She sits beside you with a calculated calm, and before you know it, her lips are on yours—soft at first, then more intense, as if she’s learning every inch of your mouth.

Between kisses, her hand starts exploring your body, moving slowly, until it reaches exactly where you want it most. Her fingers wrap around your cock, and the touch is... electrifying. It’s not just any touch; it’s the kind that knows exactly what it’s doing. She strokes you lightly, almost teasingly, while her lips pull away just enough for her to whisper in your ear:

“Remember that time in class when the professor asked me to help you with an assignment?” She pauses, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you to fuck me until I came.”

The effect of her words is immediate. Your entire body reacts before your mind can even catch up. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, almost as if it’s following an unspoken command. She feels it and giggles softly, a sound just as provocative as every move of her fingers.

“Look at you…” she says, her voice full of amusement and a hint of mockery. “You’re getting hard for me again, aren’t you? What a naughty boy.”

Your heart races, and you can hardly respond. All you can do is gaze at her while your desire skyrockets. Her hand moves slowly and deliberately, teasing every part of you, while her eyes stay locked on yours, as if savoring every second.

“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Nayeon asks, her voice soft but filled with a promise you know she’ll fulfill.

“So much,” you reply, almost breathless, anticipation taking over every inch of your being.

She smirks—that dangerous smile that says, "Exactly what I wanted to hear." Her lips return to yours, but this time there’s more urgency, a hunger building with every passing moment. Her hand moves with more intention now, and your excitement grows at an unimaginable rate.

“I knew you were like this…” she murmurs between kisses, her lips nearly glued to yours. “Such a horny little thing, always wanting more.”

She tightens her grip slightly, making you squirm, the pleasure coursing through you with every squeeze, every word whispered like a secret shared only with you.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her eyes glint as her hand continues its strategic work. “You like me teasing you.”

“Yes,” you manage to say, your voice shaky with desire.

Nayeon pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile blending amusement with seduction.

“Good, because I love teasing you…” she says, then leans down, as if she’s about to do something even more daring. Her lips brush against your neck, lightly biting as her hand slides lower, teasing and gripping, leaving you on the edge of collapse.

“Think you can handle another round?” she asks, her voice now full of challenge.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you respond, trying to keep your composure but knowing you’re completely at her mercy.

“Let’s see then,” she whispers against your skin, and before you know it, she’s moving down, her lips traveling across your body, and you lean back onto the bed. She leaves a trail of kisses and bites along your chest and stomach, making her way lower.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and with one final mischievous smile, she leans back up just enough to brush her lips against yours without fully kissing.

“Are you ready to fuck me now?” she asks.

And without a doubt, you are.

Nayeon lies back on the bed, slowly pulling you on top of her until you feel the warmth of her body against yours. The way she molds perfectly beneath you feels like she was made for this. Your hands trace the contours of her breasts, fingers pressing gently against her skin as you slide into her slowly, savoring every second. Your lips meet hers in a slow, intense kiss, tongues moving in sync with the rhythm of your hips—thrusting in and out, deepening with each stroke.

She moans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your whole body, making you speed up a little while still keeping control. Nayeon breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, eyes closed, and you take the chance to kiss her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. "You like this, don't you?" you whisper in her ear, your voice low and husky as you keep thrusting, feeling how tightly she clenches around you.

"Fuck… yes," she breathes out, her nails now digging into your back, scratching you with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."

You obey without thinking, picking up the pace, each thrust deeper and more deliberate. Her moans grow louder, almost turning into screams, and it only drives you to go harder. You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, sucking her lower lip between yours as your hips move in a nearly frantic rhythm. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with her broken moans and your own heavy breathing.

"You're so fucking hot," you say between kisses, softly biting along her jawline as you lose yourself in the sensation. "So tight… fuck, Nayeon."

She opens her eyes, looking at you with a mix of challenge and pleasure, her face flushed and sweaty. "Come on, fuck me harder… don’t stop," she pleads, pulling you down for another kiss, this one desperate, as if she needs every touch of yours to survive. You oblige, thrusting harder, while her moans turn into muffled cries as your mouths stay connected.

But then, you decide to switch positions. Science, after all, is about experimentation. You position her at the edge of the bed, Nayeon's legs lifted and spread wide, her pussy on full display—pink and pulsing, inviting. The sight makes you lose control for a moment as you grab her thighs, pulling her closer to you. With one hand, you line up your cock, the tip already slick with excitement, before sliding it inside, feeling the warmth wrap around you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with both your moans.

Nayeon looks up at you, a wild gleam in her eyes, completely different from the girl everyone thinks they know. "You're such a filthy pervert," she growls through gritted teeth, her voice low and dripping with lust. "Fucking your study partner like this, so dirty… Do you see what you've done to me? The little nerd everyone thinks is so innocent, and look where I am now, all spread out for you…"

The sound of her voice, the moans slipping out as you fuck her harder and deeper, only makes you lose more control. "Innocent?" you mutter, your breathing ragged. "You pretend to be the good little student, but with me, you love being a slut, don’t you?"

She lets out a wicked laugh, cut off by a louder moan as you thrust even deeper. "I fucking love it. I love how you make me forget everything… I love being your little slut. I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."

Your movements grow faster, each thrust pulling louder moans from her. You grip her thighs tight, pulling her into you with each thrust, your eyes fixed on the sight of your cock sliding in and out, completely soaked. "Look at you," you growl, your voice dripping with taunt. "So depraved… No one would guess that the nerdy girl from class is here, begging to be fucked like a whore."

Nayeon lets out a long, drawn-out moan, almost a scream, her body arching beneath you, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "Yes! Fuck me harder, fuck! I want you to know this is what I love… I love being the little nerd only you can fuck like this. Faster, harder!"

You don't hesitate, your hips slamming against hers in a frenzied pace, the heat and pressure of every thrust consuming you both. Her legs tremble, and you keep pounding with force and precision. "Admit it, Nayeon," you say through gritted teeth, picking up the pace. "You love being my little slut…"

She opens her eyes, staring at you with an almost possessive intensity. "Fuck, yes! I’m your slut. Fuck me more, fuck my pussy like I’m only yours…" You lower yourself onto her, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of your heat into her through the kiss as you keep thrusting, and between desperate, erratic kisses, she gasps, "Take me from behind now. I want you deep inside me, you filthy pervert!”

You pull away from her, and Nayeon promptly positions herself on your messy bed, arching her back, ready. Your approach is almost reverent. You position yourself behind her as you lower your head slowly, your eyes tracing the sight she offers—her wet pussy, swollen with excitement, and just above, her tight little ass, teasing you. She’s so exposed, so vulnerable, yet there’s a confidence in her, like she’s fully aware of what’s coming. And that’s exactly what turns her on.

Before making a move, you let your warm breath brush against her skin, sending shivers through her body. Nayeon lets out a shaky sigh, and her back arches even more. “Don’t make me wait…” she murmurs, a mix of urgency and need in her voice.

With a sly grin, you lower your mouth, and your tongue finally touches the slick entrance of her pussy. The taste is addictive, just as you suspected. You start with soft, long licks, gliding along the length of her lips, savoring every drop of her juices. Nayeon responds immediately, letting out quiet moans, her breathing already quickening.

“You… know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks, her voice broken by little gasps.

You chuckle lightly between licks but don’t answer. Your hands firmly grip Nayeon’s ass, keeping her in place as your tongue slides deeper, exploring her sensitive folds. Each time you graze the entrance of her pussy, it clenches, almost begging to be filled, but you refuse to give her everything at once. Instead, you decide to tease her even more.

Sliding your tongue upward, you slowly trace circles around her tight little asshole, making it wet with your saliva. The reaction is instant—Nayeon’s body trembles, and her moans intensify. “Oh my God… keep going… please…” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea.

You alternate between quick, gentle licks, sometimes focusing on her swollen, slick pussy, other times on her sensitive ass, driving her to the brink of losing control. Your tongue dances between the two spots, teasing and pleasing her at the same time. With every new touch, Nayeon’s moans grow louder, more urgent.

“You… you like this, don’t you, you pervert?” she asks with a muffled voice, her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I love how you taste,” you murmur against her skin.

She lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Of course you do, I’m… delicious.” And you can’t help but agree. Your tongue continues to explore, licking deep into her pussy and then sliding up to her ass, enjoying the way her body reacts to every touch. Your fingers dig into her ass cheeks harder, leaving red marks on her pale skin.

Nayeon’s moans mix with uncontrollable whispers, each word escaping between ragged breaths. “Please… you’re killing me,” she begs, her voice thick with pleasure, her eyes half-closed in pure lust. “Fuck me… just fuck me already!”

Her plea is desperate, loaded with an almost imperious urgency, and you, with a mischievous smile, position yourself behind her, watching as she pushes her ass higher, her slick pussy begging for more. “You sure you can take it?” you tease, your hands already gripping her hips, but before she can even respond, you pull her back, aligning yourself with precision, the head of your cock brushing against her lips.

“Just do it, fuck,” Nayeon shouts, her tone commanding but dripping with so much desire that you can’t resist. In one swift motion, you thrust into her, and the wet heat of her pussy envelops you completely. Pleasure shoots through you like an electric current, and she arches her back, pushing against you, as if begging you to go deeper, faster.

You start slowly, savoring each thrust, each inch sliding in and out of her, but soon the pace picks up, driven by the uncontrollable moans pouring out of Nayeon. “Faster… harder,” she moans, her voice faltering with each deeper thrust, and you don’t hesitate. Your hands sink into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her steady as you speed up, the thrusts becoming more intense, more brutal.

“Look at you, so prim and proper in class, but here…” you say between thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Here you’re just my little slut. The nerd who loves being fucked like a whore.”

Nayeon moans loudly, her voice breaking into wicked laughter. “Is that what you want, huh? To know the nerd loves being fucked like this, like a depraved little slut… Make me scream, fuck!”

With each slap to her ass, she moans louder, her pale skin turning red with every hit. “Hit me harder,” she begs, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. And you oblige, slapping her harder, leaving red marks as you bury yourself deeper inside her.

“You’re an unbelievable slut,” you growl, picking up the pace, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate moans from her. “You pretend to be so good, but look at you now… begging for more.”

“I’m your slut,” she screams, pushing her ass back against you even harder. “Do whatever you want with me… I love being fucked like this, fuck! Make me yours, make me cum.”

You keep going, your thrusts becoming frenzied, your hips moving with an uncontrollable speed and intensity. “Fuck, look at you,” you taunt, feeling your own pleasure building. “You love being treated like this, like a desperate little whore. Scream for me, Nayeon.”

“Yes, yes!” she screams, her voice thick with pleasure, almost hoarse. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, babe!”

Her body trembling as her climax approaches. Suddenly, she arches her back, pushing her ass harder against you, and her voice cracks as she screams, “I’m... going... to cum!”

Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock, pulsing and shaking as she’s overtaken by the orgasm, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy while your relentless thrusts continue. But you don't stop. Her pleasure only drives you further, each thrust pulling everything out of her, Nayeon’s body writhing, each scream feeding your own growing desire.

“Yeah… Fuck me, make me yours,” she keeps begging, even in the middle of her own climax, completely surrendered to the sensation.

You can feel your own orgasm building, heat rising fast, pressure mounting. “I’m going to cum,” you warn, your voice rough and broken, unable to stop as the final thrusts send you both over the edge.

The feeling of her pulsating pussy around your cock pushes you to the brink, and with one last frustrated groan, you pull out. Nayeon gasps for a moment, recovering from her orgasm as she kneels down on the floor, almost like she already knows what to do – and, honestly, she does. Her eyes lock on you, her face slightly flushed, and her mouth already open, waiting eagerly like the diligent student she is.

You grip your cock with one hand, still throbbing, and bring it to her lips. With her mouth wide, Nayeon wraps her lips around you once more, sucking softly with a gentleness that almost belies the fevered desire etched across her face. You pull out of her mouth, stroking yourself quickly, feeling the pressure mounting further.

Nayeon waits, obedient, with her tongue stretched out, her eyes hungry and fixed on you, knowing exactly the effect that has on you. When the moment hits, the first spurt of cum lands on her warm tongue, and Nayeon doesn’t even blink. She takes it all in with pleasure, as you empty yourself into her mouth, your body shuddering, nearly out of control.

She keeps her mouth open the entire time, her tongue coated in your cum, and when you finally finish, she closes her lips, licking them as the taste spreads. With perfect manners, she shows you her full mouth, eyes full of playful mischief, and then, without breaking eye contact, she swallows it all in one gulp, her throat moving slowly.

“See?” she says with a satisfied smile, as if she’d just passed a test with flying colors. “I swallowed it all without spilling a drop.”

But, of course, Nayeon, ever the overachiever, wasn’t finished. Before you can catch your breath, she leans in again, taking your sensitive cock into her mouth, sucking with an intensity that makes you moan involuntarily. The jolt of pleasure is so sharp that you try to pull away, your body trembling, but she holds you firmly, her mouth working at a pace that borders on cruel.

“Fuck!... I can’t take any more!” you try to protest, your voice breaking, but Nayeon just hums in response, pulling you out only long enough to say, “Not yet,” before closing her lips around you again, sucking you until, finally, she decides she’s satisfied.

When she releases you, you’re left gasping, almost paralyzed from the intensity of it all. Nayeon smiles sweetly, victorious, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers before saying with calm satisfaction, “Mmm, Now that was delicious.”

—

As you desperately gulp water from your bottle, the silence that follows your impromptu "study session" lingers heavily in the air, a strange return to reality. Nayeon had stood up, her hair still slightly messy and a small smile playing on her lips, before heading to the bathroom. She walked with the confidence of someone who had just solved a particularly tricky math problem.

And now you're here, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water as she washes her face and cleans her glasses, removing any trace of... well, *you*. Then, because life loves to remind you that nothing is ever simple, your mind starts to wander. What, exactly, just happened? Oh, right. You were working on a project. A project that, incidentally, hasn’t moved an inch forward.

Nayeon steps out of the bathroom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor, dressing herself piece by piece, taking her time, like you were a couple with decades of shared intimacy. She finishes by adjusting her glasses, almost like she’s putting a crown back on after a victorious battle. She sits back down in her chair, opens the laptop as if nothing had happened, and lets out a satisfied but determined sigh.

“Alright,” she says, as if she hadn’t just left you weak-kneed. “Let’s get back to the project.”

You stare at her, incredulous. As if it were possible to get back to the project after that.

And then you realize you’re still naked. You quickly slip on your boxers and pants.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can focus on my part right now,” you admit, your voice still a bit hoarse.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” She smiles that smile—a mix of mischief and... surprisingly efficient academic prowess. “As long as you keep fucking me, of course. I have to be rewarded somehow.”

You’re speechless for a moment, because, well... you don’t exactly have a counterargument. In fact, it seems like the best deal you’ve ever made in your life.

“Deal,” you say, trying to sound cool, as if you weren’t absolutely thrilled by the arrangement.

Inside, though, you’re jumping for joy.

She adjusts her glasses, watching you for a moment, and you notice that glint in her eyes—a mix of ego, intelligence, and... something else that makes your heart race. Or maybe it’s just the recent sex.

Hard to say.

“But,” she cuts through your thoughts with a serious tone, “no one can know about this. We have to meet in secret. No telling anyone.”

“I swear I won’t tell.”

You wonder how you ended up in this situation, but the answer seems obvious. Who in their right mind would turn down a request like that?

She smiles, satisfied, and turns her attention back to the laptop, as if everything were perfectly resolved.

“Besides,” Nayeon adds, without looking up, “if you need help with any other subject, you can count on me. After all, I think we work well together, don’t we?”

You just nod, but there’s something about her—something between the proud nerd and the bold confidence—that drives you wild. Wild with desire, of course, but also something deeper. And as you watch her, so focused, adjusting her glasses like she’s planning the next phase of a secret mission, you realize that you’re falling for the class nerd.

Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she has a way of disarming you at every turn.

But it’s more than that. It’s as if every time she looks at you with that “know-it-all” air or talks about a complicated academic concept, your mind equates it with something incredibly sexy. And suddenly, your love life has turned into an equation you can’t—and don’t want to—solve.

And, of course, the fact that she’s amazing in bed doesn’t hurt, either.

“Should we meet tomorrow?” you ask casually.

Nayeon doesn’t even look up, just gives a small “mm-hmm” of confirmation, her fingers still typing away.

“Your place again. Same time. Clean up your room... And answer the door in your boxers.”

She glances at you slightly, smiling, and you know exactly what that smile means. And, well, you’re not in any position to complain. In fact, if studying had always been like this, maybe you'd have been the best student in class.

—

As you walk Nayeon to the door, you can’t help but think that maybe you’ve uncovered the true secret to academic success. And who would have thought it was a sexy nerd with glasses who secretly turned out to be a naughty girl who liked sneaking off for sex?

As she leaves, you can’t help but smile when your eyes meet one last time. Not just because of the deal you’ve just made, but because, for the first time in a long while, you’re genuinely excited to "study" with someone. Suddenly, the academic world seems a lot more interesting.

You close the door, but something lingers in the air. Maybe it’s the smell of your sweat—you still haven’t showered, after all. Maybe it’s the trace of Nayeon’s perfume. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one of the most unexpectedly erotic adventures of your life.

-----------

A/n: Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Thanks for reading.

[senmiyaazx]

SOLIVAN X READER

“Wanna be your muse ...”

cw: none // not fully proofread

Scratch, scribble, scribble .....

Hm, that's not quite right.

Using the end of the pencil, you rubbed away at the paper— erasing the imperfections in your art.

You were completely distracted. Whatever your professor was saying, you didn't care. It's boring and you could probably just search it up the next time he gives you homework.

You yawned, looking down at your drawing. A blush crept to your cheeks as you realize you've been drawing him for the past few days.

Him— your partner and new friend, the guy whose existence you weren't even aware of until a few days ago, the one who went unnoticed by everyone and you despite him being in the same class as you. Solivan Brugmansia, or rather, Sol.

He's pretty darn cute. Despite his intimidating appearance — from the black clothing and that scary gaze he had — he was actually really sweet, and kind. At least to you.. and Hyugo. But he's softer towards you.

You've noticed the way he stared for longer than he should, lingering touches that shouldn't be there, his dark gaze whenever he sees you interacting with Crowe, or anyone else for that matter. He also seems to like you a lot. Perhaps too much, but you don't really mind. Not when he's been oh so generous to you.

You groaned. No, that doesn't look like him. Try again.

Right. After you became partners, you couldn't help but continue to draw him even if it was unrelated to the project you both worked on. At first, it was mere excuses — you told yourself 'It's just for practice'. It's totally not because he's so pretty you can't help but want to admire him! Sounds weird, doesn't it? That's why it's for practice.

Fuck it. He's so damn pretty.

But your memory sucked, and you need a reference. How though? It's not like you can just ask him for a selfie, that'd probably sound suspicious. Plus, you're in class right now, and you really want to finish this sketch.

You sucked in a breath. Surely one look will be enough. Just one quick look?

You purposefully dropped your eraser on the floor, pretending it was an accident. You took a moment before picking it up, and as you did, you subtly turned your head to where Sol was— though to your surprise, he was already looking at you. Your gaze locked with those vermillion eyes, your own ones widening slightly before you immediately sat back up with an embarrassed blush.

'Can't believe he was already looking..' You sighed. 'This is so embarrassing.'

At least you managed to get a look. You can already envision his image in your head. It wasn't long before you got back to sketching.

You finished after a while. A smile was brought to your face as you stared at your creation, proud.

You rested your head on the desk, using your arms as a cushion. You closed your eyes, feeling tired. Just a few more minutes until..

...

Someone was shaking you awake. When did you fall asleep?

You raised your head from your desk, blinking sleepily.

"Sol..?" You mumbled.

"Morning, sleepyhead. You fell asleep." Sol's voice rung in your ear like a melody. You never realized how soothing his voice sounded, despite the teasing tone it held. You thought about how nice it'd be to hear it every morning.

"Did you get enough sleep last night? You look really tired." His tone switched to a concerned one, more like a doting mother.

"Yeah, just forgot to have my morning coffee." You grinned sheepishly, grabbing your things. "Thanks for waking me up."

He only gave a hum before a shy expression took over his features, a hint of blush blossoming on his cheeks.

He seems to be holding something in his hands before giving it to you. Is that your test paper? No, wait, is that the sketch you made earlier?!

"A-ah! Sorry-" You quickly took the paper from him (albeit rather aggressively), immediately shoving it into your bag as hot shame washed over you.

He chuckled which only served to stir your embarrassment even further.

"It's fine." He sucked in a breath. "You're really cute." He mumbled.

"What did you say?" You perked up, still trying to calm your racing heart. Why were you so flustered anyway?

"Nothing," He smiled shyly. "You know, if you ever need... references, you could always ask me. I don't mind.. I'd do anything for you after all." He whispered that last part to himself. You didn't even care - or notice it, you were too embarrassed.

Your eyes widened. Wait, was he serious? He's being for real?

Nonetheless, you couldn't bring yourself to deny because you probably would've never had the courage to ask. "Right, aha, I'll definitely take you up on that offer, thanks, uh.. bye!" You rushed out of your seat, the paper nearly crumpling in your hands.

Sol watched as you bolted away. He's completely aware of the way his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He couldn't help but grin. How could he not? You were thinking about him. That alone, is enough to make his heart flutter and yearn for more.

He smiled shakily, leaving the classroom after a while, thoughts filled with you as he walked through the hallways.

You're.. so cute. So damn cute.

———

a/n: this was supposed to come with three characters: sol, crowe and casper (date with death), but it's 4am and I'm not sure when im able to write for the other two since i have a busy schedule. i already have an idea though, just need to write it out :)

[hoshifighting]

       hoshi + wet dream(z)

— “teacher, please, don't make me stand up” hoshi thinks when he just realized he had a wet dream about you, his roomate, at class.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, inspired by ''wet dreamz'' by j.cole (just a hint of it), oral (f. & m. receiving), dry humping, cock riding, mentions of handjobs and jerk off.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

soonyoung’s dead to the world, head down, cheek smushed against his arm, that dumbass hoodie string sticking to his lips. honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t drooled yet. professor kim’s yelling about some kid in the front row not having their project finished on time,

but soonyoung? yeah, man’s out cold. he probably crashed after staying up too late again, messing around, doing who knows what. typical. you try to take notes while glancing at him every few minutes, but then something shifts—his leg jerks under the desk, his face scrunching up like he’s in serious trouble.

and that’s when you notice his fingers flex, the furrowed eyebrows, the faintest shift of breath slipping through his lips like he’s...no, no way. your eyes narrow, and you kick the side of his foot, just to check. the dude grumbles in his sleep, biting his lip hard.

oh god, this idiot’s having a wet dream. right here. in class. you’re both gonna get expelled.

meanwhile, in soonyoung’s head? oh, it's something else. it’s you, of course. you’re wearing that tight little top, the one with the low cut that gives him a peek every time you lean over his bed to wake him up for his dance recitals. and you’re smiling at him, all innocent and sweet, but your hand is somewhere down his stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats, tugging him closer, stroking his cock, making him moan your name in this barely-there voice.

and just like that, you tap him on the shoulder, your voice cutting through his dream like a slap to the face, “soonyoung, you good? you looked like you were having a nightmare or something.” trying to keep it lowkey so the whole class doesn’t start looking over. your hand's still resting on his shoulder when you see his eyes snap open, like he’s been hit with a lightning bolt.

nightmare? nah, he wishes. he blinks up at you, disoriented as hell, blinking twice to focus. the way your boobs are hanging in front of him in that low-cut shirt? shit. it’s like his dream didn’t even end. he can barely breathe, eyes glued to you as you lean in, not even noticing the way his gaze drops right to your chest.

he shifts again, pressing his thighs together under the desk, praying to whatever god is out there that professor kim doesn't make him stand up, because, fuck—he’s so hard it’s practically poking through his jeans. if he stands up right now? boner’s definitely gonna slap someone in the face. maybe the fella sitting in front of him.

he panics, trying to will it down, but nah, not when he remembers the way your tits jiggle when you run to catch the bus with him, or how you’ve always been so nice to him, helping him clean up his absolute wreck of a dorm room like you actually care. you’re so fucking nice. and hot. being sweet like that makes you even hotter.

“dude, what the hell?” you frown, and he feels guilty for all of a second, ‘cause you’re just looking out for him, being a good roommate and all, and here he is, thinking about how badly he wants to—

“uh, no—no, i’m fine,” he stammers, swallowing hard, forcing himself to look anywhere but at your cleavage. jesus, how are you real? you’re too fucking hot for your own good. “just—uh—tired, y’know?” his voice cracks, and it’s a miracle you don’t ask why he’s shifting so awkwardly in his seat, arms crossed tight like he’s hiding something.

you blink, clearly not convinced but too busy to care. “okay, well, maybe you should get some sleep tonight instead of staying up watching dumb youtube videos.”

he laughs nervously, shifting in his chair, again, trying not to let his boner ruin both of your lives. “yeah. yeah, totally.”

but honestly, he’s praying the class ends soon, ‘cause if professor kim makes him stand up, his whole life's over.

the class ends, and the signal bell’s barely even faded before soonyoung’s out of his seat. like, out. he snatches his backpack and casually—well, tries to be casual—slides it in front of him, covering the situation in his pants like his life depends on it. which, yeah, it kinda does. you watch as he bolts for the exit, practically crashing into the doorframe on his way out. you’re left blinking, a little confused.

“where tf are you going? we still have p.e,” you type, texting him quickly as you pack up your own stuff.

a few seconds later, your phone buzzes.

soonyoung: dorm.

what the fuck? you stare at the screen, baffled. you know this man loves dodgeball more than life itself—hell, he’s usually the one pelting people with those foam balls like it’s the olympics. but now? he’s bailing on p.e.?

you shoot off another text. “??? bro, dodgeball’s about to start, what’s your deal?”

his response comes in almost instantly, a little too fast.

soonyoung: not coming. sick.

right. you raise an eyebrow, but whatever. his loss. maybe he really is coming down with something, ‘cause skipping p.e. is like skipping oxygen for this guy. but, as you head down to the gym, you can’t help but wonder if something’s off. especially the way he bolted earlier.

halfway through dodgeball, it clicks—oh shit. it’s gotta be you. he’s been weird since you woke him up in class, and now, you’re running around in your sports bra and high-waisted shorts, the same ones you always wear. that might explain it. he’s probably freaking out over that damn wet dream, too embarrassed to face you.

good. let him sweat it out for a bit. serves him right for ditching.

by the time you make it back to the dorm, you’re drenched in sweat, breathing a little heavy from running around like a maniac all period. the heat from dodgeball is still clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower. you toss your bag onto the couch and kick off your shoes, stretching out your arms as you step into the kitchen.

soonyoung’s there, standing awkwardly by the counter with a glass of water, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for like, a second before darting away. something’s definitely up. he’s acting weird.

“yo,” you call out, wiping a hand over your forehead, “where the hell did you go? you missed dodgeball, man. you feeling alright?”

he shrugs, not looking at you. his face is all tight, like he’s focusing way too hard on drinking his water. “yeah, just… didn’t feel like it.”

“didn’t feel like it?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him. “you love dodgeball.”

he just grunts, and you catch him glancing at you, real quick, before his gaze shoots right back to the floor. you follow his eyes and—oh. oh. right. your sports top’s soaked through, sticking to your skin, and you can literally feel his eyes tracing every damn inch of it. it’s not like you’re trying to be a tease, but something about the way he’s avoiding you makes you want to push him a little. just to see how much more uncomfortable he can get.

“you sure you’re okay?” you ask, stepping closer, watching his ears turn red. “you’ve been acting weird since class. did something happen?”

he shakes his head so fast you think he’s about to give himself whiplash. “no, nothing happened. i’m fine.”

yeah, right. you chuckle to yourself, brushing past him toward the hallway, but not before you notice the way his eyes drop again, glued to the sweat clinging to your back, the way your skin’s gleaming in the low kitchen light.

“whatever, weirdo. i’m taking a shower.”

you leave him standing there, all fidgety and red-faced, as you disappear into the bathroom. you close the door behind you and smirk, wondering just how long he’s going to keep up this act.

you step out of the bathroom, towel slung over your shoulders, hair damp and sticking to your neck. the warmth from the shower did little to wash away the tension in your head, the lingering feeling that something was off. soonyoung hadn’t said more than three words since you got back to the dorm, and it’s weird. too weird. normally, he’s all over you, making dumb jokes, bugging you about something, throwing himself onto your bed like it’s his second home—with wet hair to freak you out. only for him now be holed up in his room, glued to his phone, avoiding you like the plague.

and for some reason, you hate it. the silence. the way he’s brushing you off. you’d rather have him drenched in rainwater, messing up your sheets like always than whatever the hell this was.

hair dripping slightly onto your t-shirt, you pad over to his room. the door’s half-open, and there he is—soonyoung, sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, scrolling like he’s actually interested in whatever’s on the screen.

you don’t say anything at first, just step into the room and sit beside him, sulking as you grab onto his arm. your fingers squeeze lightly, and you glance at him, expecting some smartass remark or at least something. but all you get is a quick look from him, eyes darting from you to the phone. nothing more. then he turns back to the screen like you’re not even there.

“seriously?” you mumble, rolling your eyes. his silence is starting to get to you now, and your frustration boils over. fuck this. you reach over and snatch the phone right out of his hand, holding it up in the air, out of his reach.

“what the hell—” soonyoung tsks, sounding more annoyed than anything. annoyed, yeah right. he sits up quickly, leaning in close as he reaches for it, but you keep it out of his grasp, grinning despite yourself.

“tsk. give it back,” he grumbles, his hand wrapping around your wrist, but you refuse to budge. his eyes flash up to yours. “seriously, y/n. stop.”

you tilt your head, eyes locking onto his, something playful and challenging bubbling up in your chest. “not until you stop being a weirdo. what’s your problem? you’ve been acting like i’ve got the plague since class.”

he tugs at your arm again, trying to reach the phone, but you just hold it higher, raising your eyebrows at him. your other hand grabs onto his shoulder to steady yourself, and you’re both so close now that you can feel his breath on your neck.

you want him to say it first. to admit whatever the hell’s been going on in his head.

“come on, soonyoung, just talk to me.” your voice softens a little, though there’s still a teasing edge to it. “you’re not really pissed, are you? what, did i embarrass you in class or something?”

he huffs, falling back against the bed again, hands covering his face in frustration. he mumbles something, but it’s too muffled to understand.

“what was that?” you press, your hand still gripping the phone. you lean in closer, hovering over him, trying to peek through his fingers.

he groans, louder this time, and lets his hands drop to his sides, staring up at the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “just… forget it, okay? you’re making it worse.”

“worse? worse how?” you shift, sitting cross-legged on the bed now, leaning over him with your phone still clutched in your hand. your knee brushes against his hip, and you see his jaw tighten for a second. “soonyoung, come on, talk to me. why are you acting so fucking weird?”

he lets out a long breath, rubbing his palms over his face like he’s trying to scrub the answer out of himself. his lips press together, eyes squeezing shut before he finally mutters, “i didn’t want you to see… that.”

“see what?” your voice drops lower, curious now, your hand letting the phone slip down beside you. you’re so close to him now that your hair is starting to drip on his shoulder, but neither of you moves away. you watch the muscle in his neck tense as he swallows hard, lips parting slightly.

“you,” he finally breathes out, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. his cheeks are flushed now, the embarrassment clear in every line of his body, but he doesn’t look away from the ceiling, not even once. “i—fuck, i was dreaming about you. okay? in class. and then you woke me up, and i—shit, i couldn’t stop thinking about it. about… you.”

you smirk a little, shaking your head. “so… wait, you’ve been avoiding me because of a dream?”

he groans, hands covering his face again. “it wasn’t just a dream, okay? it was—god, this is so fucking embarrassing. you were… you know.”

“no, i don’t know,” you tease, shifting your weight slightly so you’re leaning in even closer. “why don’t you tell me?”

he glances at you then.

“you were all over me,” he mutters finally, his voice low, “in this tight shirt, and you wouldn’t stop touching me. it was fucking killing me, okay? i woke up and—god, i just couldn’t look at you. i’ve never seen you like that before, and it… fuck, it messed with my head.”

you raise an eyebrow, not quite expecting that level of honesty. but something in you can’t resist pushing him a little more. “so that’s it? you were just… turned on, and now you’re too embarrassed to even be around me?”

he groans again, this time louder, pressing his hands into his eyes. “yes! fuck. yes. happy now?”

“actually?” you grin, leaning back slightly. “yeah, kinda.”

he looks at you, “you’re the worst.”

“yep.” you sit back up, holding his phone just out of reach. “but i’m also not giving you your phone back until you stop acting like i’ve got cooties or something.”

he rolls his eyes, sitting up again, this time without the fake annoyance. there’s a look on his face you can’t quite read, somewhere between embarrassment and frustration, and it makes your stomach flip. maybe there’s more to this than just a dream.

“you’re really not gonna let this go, are you?” he asks, voice softer now.

“nope,” you say, smiling. “not a chance.”

he sighs, shaking his head. “fine. just… don’t make this any weirder than it already is, okay?”

you glance down at his lips, and something inside you shifts. you tilt your head slightly, eyes locking with his as you whisper, “trust me, i won’t.”

and before he can react, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. it’s soft at first, a hesitant brush of mouths, but then you feel him melt into it, his lips parting as his breath hitches. the kiss deepens, and soon enough, you’re straddling him, your thighs pressing into his hips, and his hands—hesitant at first—grasp onto your waist, unsure but needy.

the second you feel his grip tighten, you take control. your hands snake around his neck, pulling him closer as you grind down against him, making you feel the hard length of his cock, even through the fabric of his sweats. his breath catches, a quiet groan escaping from his throat as your hips rock against his.

soonyoung’s head falls back against the pillow, eyes half-lidded as his fingers sink into your skin, he doesn’t know what to do with himself—he’s trying to keep up, but you’re driving him crazy. his hips jerk up to meet yours, but it’s too much, too fast. he’s never been this turned on from just kissing before, and it’s almost awkward how quick his body responds to you.

“slow—fuck—slow down,” he gasps, hands slipping to your hips, trying to hold you still, but you only smirk, grinding down harder.

“sensitive already?” you tease, your breath hot against his ear, your fingers trailing down his chest, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“yeah,” he breathes, his voice shaky. “fuck—sensitive. really sensitive.”

you pause, frowning a little as you tilt your head to look at him. “why?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his hands still gripping your waist, trying to keep you from moving. he just looks at you, his eyes full of something that feels like shame, waiting for you to piece it together.

and then it hits you. oh.

“did you…?” you ask softly, your voice dropping a little as you lean in, your lips brushing against his jaw. “did you have to touch yourself after the dream?”

soonyoung swallows hard, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he nods, barely. “yeah,” he mutters, almost like he’s admitting some deep, dark secret. “i couldn’t… i couldn’t stop thinking about it. about you.”

for a second, you just stare at him, processing the confession. he was jerking off, thinking about you—and now here you are, straddling him, grinding against him. “shit,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, your fingers tracing lightly over his chest. “you’ve been thinking about me like that?”

“how could i not? y/n-nie” he sulks, his hands trembling slightly as they slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing against the damp skin of your lower back.

you smirk, leaning down to kiss him again, this time slower, deeper, letting your tongue slip into his mouth as your hips rock slowly, teasing him. his hands tighten on your back, pulling you closer, but you can feel him trembling beneath you, his body so tense.

“you want me to stop?” you ask against his lips, voice low and teasing. “because i don’t think you do.”

he shakes his head, the movement jerky, his breath coming in quick gasps as you continue to grind against him. his fingers slip into your hair, damp from the shower, tugging gently as he lets out a soft, desperate sound.

“no—don’t stop.”

and that’s all you need.

you push yourself off him, just enough to slide your shorts down, tossing them aside before settling back down on his hips. the feeling of your bare skin against his sweats makes you shudder, and you see the way his eyes go wide, dark and blown out with need as you shift, grinding your bare pussy against the bulge in his pants.

soonyoung groans, his head tipping back against the pillow as his hands grip your thighs, trying to hold you steady. but you don’t give him a second to recover. you grind down hard, dragging your slick cunt over the fabric of his sweats, and he’s almost delirious from the sensation.

“fuck—fuck—y/n—”

you smirk, leaning down to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his as your hand trails down his chest, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “you’ve been thinking about this, hm?”

“yeah,” he gasps, his hips jerking up to meet yours as you slip your hand under his waistband, fingers brushing against his cock. “god, yeah.”

but you don’t give him what he wants. not yet. instead, you slide down his body, trailing kisses over his chest, his stomach, your fingers tracing the waistband of his sweats before tugging them down. you don’t even bother taking them off completely, just pulling them down enough to free his cock.

you wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly as you lean down, your breath hot against his skin. he’s sensitive—too sensitive—and he’s almost squirming under your touch, but you keep going, taking your time, watching his face as you work him up even more.

“you’re so fucking hard,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the base of his cock, and he lets out a choked sound, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

you don’t stop. you slide your hand up and down his length, your thumb brushing over the tip, slick with precum, and then you lean down, your tongue darting out to lick along the underside of his cock.

you slide down his body again, this time lowering yourself between his legs, your mouth hovering just above his cock. you can see the way his whole body trembles, his hips jerking up slightly as you take him into your mouth. you don’t rush—no, you take your time, swirling your tongue around the tip before sliding your mouth down, taking him as deep as you can.

soonyoung lets out a broken sound, his hands flying to your hair, gripping tightly as you work him over, your mouth wet and slick as you suck him off. you can feel him trembling beneath you, his whole body tense, but you don’t let up. you take him deeper, your throat tightening around him as you swallow, your tongue flicking over the tip every time you pull back.

“fuck—y/n—please—”

he’s close, you can tell.

his fingers twist in your hair, tugging just enough to pull you off him, your lips slick and spit-slicked. his chest heaves, eyes glazed, but there's something different about the way he looks at you now.

“wait, wait” he breathes out. “please.”

and before you can even think to argue, he’s moving, flipping you onto your back with a suddenness that makes your head spin. his hands are already on your thighs, parting them with this desperate, greedy energy like he’s been dying to do this. you’re still catching your breath from everything before, but the second you feel his warm breath ghosting over your core, it’s like everything sharpens again.

he's focused, his eyes locked on your pussy like it’s the only thing in the world that matters right now. his hands grip your thighs, pushing them wider apart as he leans down, his tongue darting out to lick along your slit, the slickness from how worked up you are already makes his job easy, and he groans at the taste, the sound vibrating against your skin in a way that has your toes curling.

“fuck,” he mutters, before he dives in fully. his tongue presses flat against your pussy, lapping up every bit of wetness before it circles around your clit, teasing but never giving you enough. you feel your hips buck up, seeking more friction, but his hands hold you down, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“soonyoung,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, “fuck—don’t tease.”

he doesn’t say anything, but his mouth works faster now, tongue flicking over your clit before he sucks it into his mouth, just enough pressure to have your back arching off the bed. but it’s not just his mouth that’s driving you crazy—it’s the way his fingers slid to work at the same time, sliding up and down your inner thigh, teasing, but never quite touching where you need him most.

“shit,” you hiss, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against you. “more—fuck, soonyoung—more.”

he lifts his head just enough to look up at you, his lips shiny, slick with your wetness, and the sight alone nearly makes you cum. “more?” he echoes, but he’s already slipping one finger inside you, slow and deep, crooking it just right to hit that spot.

“fuck—yes—there—” your head angles back, your fingers curling tighter in his hair, and he takes that as his cue to add a second finger, pumping them in and out slowly while his mouth goes back to your clit, his tongue swirling around it.

and then he stops, thinking, before diving in again. instead of just keeping his mouth on your clit, he presses his tongue flat against it, then flicks his wrist, his fingers twisting inside you, almost like he’s trying to find a new angle, something that’ll drive you absolutely crazy. and it does. you’re not even sure how he’s managing to do it—his mouth, his fingers, everything working in perfect sync to build that pressure deep inside you—but it’s fucking working, and you feel like you’re losing your mind.

“holy shit,” you gasp, your hips grinding up into his mouth, chasing the friction. “holy fuck, soonyoung—what are you—”

he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t fucking stop, and you feel the tension in your belly building, higher and higher, until it’s almost crazy to hold it. his mouth is relentless, his fingers curling and twisting inside you, and you can’t even form words anymore—just a mess of moans and gasps as you get closer and closer to the edge.

your orgasm punches you, crashing over you so hard that your vision goes white for a second, your body tightening and shaking as you cum undone beneath him. you feel the way his fingers slow down, coaxing you through it, while his tongue keeps flicking over your clit, softer now, gentler, but still enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure.

you’re breathless, your body limp against the mattress, but soonyoung doesn’t stop. he stays between your thighs, his fingers slowly pulling out of you, but his mouth is still there, kissing and licking you clean, like he can’t get enough of your taste.

“fuck baby,” you breathe out, your chest heaving as you try to come down from the high.

he finally looks up at you, his lips swollen and shiny, and he doesn't even wipe it out. “taste even better than i imagined.”

you let out a shaky laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “yeah? you’ve been thinking about that a lot?”

“more than you know,” he murmurs, before he leans in again, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “but now i can do the rest in peace.”

you lock eyes with him, your lips brushing against his, “not before i ride that dick.”

the way soonyoung’s eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat, almost makes you laugh. he looks like he’s about to choke on his own spit, his face flushing red as he processes what you just said. “wh-what?”

“you heard me.” you slide your hand down his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitch under your touch, “been thinking about it for a while now. riding you. sitting on it. licking it. you want that?”

he swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips—a habit of him, and you can tell his brain is short-circuiting. the way his hips shift beneath you, the way his fingers tighten their grip on your thighs, he’s already imagining it—has been imagining it.

fuck, probably for a while.

“you—y/n…” his voice is shaky, almost like he can’t believe you’re saying this out loud. “i—fuck, i thought about it—but like… i didn’t think you…”

you raise an eyebrow, leaning down so your lips are barely an inch away from his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “didn’t think i’d want it too? didn’t think i’d think about how i’d bounce on that dick? how i’d feel you filling me up, stretching me out? yeah, soonyoung, i’ve been thinking.”

he lets out this choked sound, his hand slipping from your thigh to wrap around your hip, like he’s trying to ground himself in reality. “fuck—you can’t just say shit like that…”

“why not?” you roll your hips down against his, feeling the hardness straining through his pants. “thought you liked me being honest?”

soonyoung’s eyes shut tight for a second, like he’s trying to get a grip, but you can feel the way his cock twitches under you, betraying him. and honestly, it just makes you want to push him further.

“been thinking about how it’d feel,” you whisper, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “how your cock would slide inside me, how deep you’d get if i sat on it, how fucking good you’d feel—hmm”

you smile, leaning back to look at him, loving the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, the way his chest is rising and falling so fast it’s like he’s running out of breath. you reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants.

he lifts his hips without thinking, helping you pull his pants down enough to free his cock, the sight of it making your mouth water. he’s bigger than you imagined—hard and thick, the tip already leaking.

“holy shit,” you mutter, wrapping your hand around it, giving it a slow stroke that has him hissing through his teeth. “so this is what you’ve been hiding from me, huh?”

soonyoung can barely speak, just nodding like his brain is short-circuiting all over again.

you shift your hips, lining him up with your entrance, slick and warm from how fucking wet you are already. and then, slowly, you sink down on him, taking him inch by inch, watching as his face contorts/

“oh fuck,” he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. “fuck, fuck, fuck—so tight—so fucking good—”

you can feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you up completely, and it’s so good, delicious, you pause for a second, letting yourself adjust, your hands splayed out on his chest as you look down at him, smirking at how fucked he already looks.

“you good?” you ask, breathless, and he just nods frantically, his eyes wide and desperate as he looks up at you.

“yes, yes, yes!” he stammers, his voice cracking.

“well,” you grin, starting to rock your hips slowly, “just wait till i really start.”

he lets out a broken moan, his hands flying to your waist, but he doesn’t try to stop you—just lets you set the pace as you start riding him, just to tease him, before gradually speeding up, rolling your hips down against him in a way that has both of you gasping.

“so—hmm—so fucking perfect,” he mumbles, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold on, but you can tell he’s losing it. his breathing’s all over the place, and his hips keep bucking up, trying to meet your movements, desperate for more.

nothing could’ve prepared him for this—not in his wildest, dirtiest, late-night fantasies. the way you suddenly prop yourself up on one knee, the other leg still pressed into the mattress, your whole body lifting up just slightly before you drop back down on him—it’s fucking insane.

the first time you do it, he swears he blacks out for a second. his entire world narrows down to the way you’re bouncing on his cock, the obscene wet sound of your slick every time you slam back down, and the way your tits are moving in rhythm with your body—fuck, it’s like he’s stuck in a trance.

“oh shit—shit,” he chokes out, his hands scrambling to grab onto your thighs, your waist—anything—but he can barely hold on. you’re riding him like you’ve been waiting for this moment, like you know exactly what the fuck you’re doing, and he’s just trying not to fucking implode.

the thing is—there’s no hesitation in you. no shyness, no slowing down to check if he’s handling it okay. you’re just going for it, like you knew this was going to ruin him, like you wanted to see his fucking end. your nails dig into his chest, using him as leverage as you move, your body fucking perfect, hips rolling and grinding.

“y/n you're gonna—” he can barely form a sentence, his breath coming out in ragged, desperate gasps. every time you drop down, your pussy squeezes around him, tight and hot and perfect, and it’s too fucking much. he feels like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous, like one more bounce and he’s done for.

“what's wrong, soonyoung?” you tease.

and fuck, he knows you're joking, knows you’re playing, but the way you say it just kills him. he lets out a strangled groan, his hips bucking up involuntarily, and you gasp as you feel the shift, your body jerking forward, hands gripping his shoulders for balance.

“ah!—” you bite your lip, eyes fluttering closed for a second, and the sound you make—that surprised moan—goes straight to his fucking brain.

soonyoung’s hands fly to your waist, his grip tightening, trying to hold you in place, trying to slow you down, because fuck, if you keep this up, he’s not gonna last—there’s no way. but it’s like you’re on a mission to break him. you grind down on him, hard and slow, then lift yourself back up only to slam back down again, your tits bouncing in a way that’s impossible for him to look away from.

“fuck," he grits out, head falling back against the pillows, his entire body going rigid as he tries to keep it together. “y/n—fuck—i can't hold it”

but you’re not listening. you’re in your own world now, riding him like it’s second nature, like this is what you’ve been waiting for all along. and fuck, he can feel how wet you are, can hear the slick sound of your pussy every time you drop back down on his cock.

“oh my god," he groans, his voice cracking as he feels you tightening around him, “you're—fuck, you're so—”

“so what?” you ask breathlessly, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you look down at him. your hands slip up to his chest, pushing him down against the mattress, your nails dragging along his skin, and he fucking shudders beneath you.

“so fucking perfect,” he finishes, his voice strained as he watches you through half-lidded eyes. he feels like he’s on fire, like every nerve in his body is screaming at him to hold on, but you’re making it fucking impossible. you’re going to fucking kill him.

you lift yourself up again, your back arching, and for a second, soonyoung thinks he might fucking pass out from how fucking good you look. your hair falls in front of your face, sticking to your skin from sweat, and your tits bounce with every movement, the low cut of your shirt leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

he watches, completely hypnotized, as you plant your feet on the mattress again, one knee still bent, the other leg propping you up—and then you jump on him again.

he chokes out, his head jerking up from the pillows as his body goes rigid beneath you. the way you’re moving now, bouncing on his cock, your ass slamming against his hips.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, the words barely coherent as his hips buck up into you involuntarily, chasing the heat, the tightness, the fucking heaven of your body.

but you don’t slow down. if anything, you speed up, your pace becoming almost frantic as you grind down on him, hard and fast, your nails digging into his chest as you chase your own orgasm. and fuck, he’s right there with you.

“shit, soonyoung—” you gasp, your voice cracking, “feels so fucking good—”

he umbles something incoherent making you laugh, breathless and ragged, and the sound sends a jolt straight to his cock. you whisper, leaning down to kiss him hard.

the moment you tell him to come for you, it’s like his whole body loses it. soonyoung’s grip on your hips falls, eyes roll back, head slamming against the pillow.

his whole body tenses up, the heat in his stomach bursting into flames, and the orgasm hits. he feels it rush through him, all the way down to his toes, the release so intense it almost hurts. his cock twitches deep inside you, and he’s spilling into you, his body convulsing, he can’t stop moving, his hips jerking up into you as he tries to ride out the high.

you feel him coming inside you, making your walls tighten around him, squeezing him as you throw your head back, gasping, your thighs shaking as you grind down on him.

he watches you, his eyes barely open, completely mesmerized by the sight of you cumming on top of him, your mouth open, your body trembling.

your hips move slower now, grinding down on him. you collapse on top of him, your body going limp against his chest, both of you drenched in sweat.

soonyoung let out a ragged breath, his arms wrapped around your body, his fingers tracing shy patterns on your skin. it felt like a gift after the best time of his life.

[jlheon]

୨୧ — stalker (lhs)

pairing. secret bf! lee heeseung x fem! reader synopsis. you get paired up with your bf's younger brother on a project genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1487 notes. ft. leehan of bnd library.

unfortunately, your saturday plans of rotting in your boyfriend's bed while he played on his computer were pushed aside. you were still going to heeseung's house but not for him, but for his younger brother.

"why can't you just tell him you're busy?" your boyfriend said.

"the project is due on monday,"

"i don't careee," heeseung whined over the phone. "just tell him to do his part on his own."

“i need a good grade on this seung,” you sighed again, rolling over in your bed. tap back on your screen to see your boyfriend's face close to the camera pouting.

"you'll live," you told him as you screenshotted his face. "i have to get ready now hee."

"can you wear pink?" he asked, making you raise an eyebrow at him. "so we can match!" heeseung showed himself in the pink hoodie you bought him for your one-year anniversary a couple of weeks ago.

picking out a simple white skirt and pink sweater and throwing it on, then moving to do some simple makeup as you knew heeseung would sneak you into his room as soon as you were done, so you wanted to look nice.

the walk to heeseung's house was short as he only lived about two blocks away. you walked up the front foot steps and knocked on the door, already knowing that his doorbell was broken.

"hi ____!" leehan answered the door smiling.

"hey leehan!" you smiled back, seeing heeseung staring at you from the living room couch. "hi hee...seung!" you called out while waving.

"oh, are you guys friends?" leehan asked from behind you.

"we have some mutual friends," you quickly answered, knowing heeseung would give an obvious hint that you were together. "i finished my part of the project so i'll just help you with your parts!"

"okay, let's work in the kitchen," leehan started walking further into the house.

following behind him and poking heeseung's shoulder as you passed him in the living room. he brought your hand that poked him to his lips, kissed the back of your knuckles, and let go so his brother wouldn't notice.

sitting at the kitchen island, you had a perfect view of your boyfriend sitting on the couch watching a random show. he also had a view of you in his peripheral vision.

leehan opened up his computer to the slideshow presentation for your english class. curse him for being the only underclassman in your class. why did he have to be heeseung's younger brother?

"so i need you to complete the places i left blank with your commentary and i'll be out of here," you explained, failing to make any direct eye contact with the boy sitting on the stool next to you, instead staring at heeseung's side profile the whole time.

"are you in a rush or anything?"

"no," you shifted your eyes back to leehan. "i have to use the bathroom though." you stood up walking towards the staircase.

he thought it was weird how you didn't ask where the bathroom was. he also thought it was weird that he doesn't remember giving you his address. so he asked his older brother while you were gone.

"heeseung?" he called out to the living room.

"yeah?" heeseung answered mindlessly, eyes still glued to the television.

"has ____ ever been here before?" leehan asked, causing heeseung's eyes to widen.

"nope."

when you returned from the kitchen leehan felt even more suspicious of you. how did you know where they lived and where the bathroom was?

he continued to edit his portion of the project until he caught you in the corner of his eye alternating staring at heeseung and then at your phone. a small smile across your lips. leehan started to feel something weird about you so he spoke up.

"how come you didn't ask where the bathroom was?" leehan questioned, not giving you any time to respond before asking you another one. "have you ever been here before?"

caught off guard you started coughing on the water you were drinking, heeseung looking over with concern when he heard you.

"oh um me and heeseung did a project together last year!" you replied after you stopped coughing.

"mhm, sure..." he responded side-eyeing you due to the two different answers he received from you and heeseung.

leehan was sure he knew what was wrong.

you were a crazy stalker in love with his older brother!

maybe you had bribed your english teacher to be his partner for this project just to see his brother. heeseung would never lie to him so you surely got their address on your own and have never been here on invite.

you were probably wearing pink to match heeseung, and you knew what color to wear since you had a camera in his room to watch his every move. you were wearing nice clothes to impress heeseung!

he had to tell his brother as soon as you left.

"i think i'm done!" leehan lied nervously. "you can look it over at home."

you let out a sigh of relief you stood up and put your empty cup in the sink.

"okay great!" you smiled, packing your stuff into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

saying bye as you walked out of the kitchen and towards the front door where your boyfriend was already waiting for you. he picked up your shoes and opened the door to simulate you leaving. calling out one last goodbye to leehan, heeseung slammed the door and took your bag from you. quickly following him up the stairs so leehan wouldn't see you both.

"finally!" heeseung crashed on top of his bed, pulling you down with him. "why did you let him take so long?"

"it was just an hour seung!" you giggled, pushing some hair out of his eyes.

"way too long." he wrapped his arms around your waist. "are you hungry?"

you knew there were leftover cupcakes from leehan's birthday in the fridge so you asked heeseung to get you one. he got up and headed down to the kitchen.

wrapping yourself in his duvet you started to feel warm with your sweater. you got up and went through heeseung's drawers and picked out the first shirt you saw. going over to the mirror to change into it and fix your hair before getting back into bed.

"HEE YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE- ____?" leehan burst through the door, shrieking when he saw you instead of his brother. "YOU'RE A STALKER! HEE GET UP HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"no i'm not-" you tried to calm him down, thankfully heeseung entered the room.

"look she's even stealing your shirt!" leehan pointed at you accusingly. "i knew something was up when you didn't ask for my address and just showed up."

heeseung set the cupcake and drink he had gotten for you on his desk and came to your side, wrapping an arm around you.

"he's my boyfriend, leehan."

"look at her gaslighting you- STAND UP." leehan scolded his brother, still waving his finger around.

"she is my girlfriend!" heeseung shouted back. "now can you please leave us alone? she was supposed to come over today for me but you just had to do your stupid project today-"

you put a hand to cover your boyfriend's mouth before he could say anything else to his brother.

"oh..." the younger boy's ears turned red due to embarrassment, walking out and closing the door behind him.

"you're so cranky today," you said while taking a bite of the vanilla cupcake once you were alone, some getting stuck on the corner of your lips.

"i barely saw you this week," heeseung frowned, wiping the frosting from your face and bringing his thumb to his lips to eat it.

the calm atmosphere was again interrupted by the door opening to reveal leehan. heeseung groaned, stood up, and got ready to kick his brother out again.

"wait! before you kick me out i have one question," leehan explained quickly, heeseung reluctantly nodded. "how long have you guys been dating?"

"our one year was last week."

"WHAT?" leehan screamed, jaw hanging open.

heeseung pushed him out the door and flopped back onto the bed. you finished your cupcake and threw the wrapper in the garbage bin under his desk, returning down next to him on the bed. your boyfriend rolled over on his side, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"we should stay like this forever," he mumbled into your neck.

"forever is only like three hours," you giggled. "i have to be home by seven."

"sleepover?" heeseung raised his head to look at your face.

"maybe..." you sighed, thinking about his offer. "i'll tell my parents i'm at rina's."

"good because i wasn't going to let you go anyways," he tightly squeezed you and came as close as possible, kissing your neck. 

[songbirdseung]

i did it first / park jongseong

where cute, playful, and innocent arguments with your boyfriend are welcomed and appreciate as they lead into the sweetest moments genre fluff, established relationship

as you and jay walk back to the car after your date, the cool evening air still carrying the warmth of your laughter and lingering touches, you can’t help but feel a little smug. tonight had been perfect—dinner at your favorite restaurant, a walk along the river, and now a comfortable car ride back home. but as soon as you both climb in and buckle up, jay’s signature teasing smirk reappears, and you already know what’s about to happen.

“you know you’re wrong, right?” jay starts, his voice playful, throwing a quick glance your way as he starts the engine. “i definitely loved you first.”

you roll your eyes, half-expecting this after a night like tonight. "oh, please. there is no way that’s true. i’m the one who fell for you first!"

jay laughs under his breath, pulling out onto the road. "y/n, you can tell yourself whatever makes you feel better, but we both know i fell first. you didn’t even realize i existed at first."

crossing your arms, you lean back in your seat, your competitive side already on high alert. "are you kidding me? i knew exactly who you were. remember that time i ‘accidentally’ bumped into you in the library? that was totally planned, just so i could talk to you.”

he gives you a side-eye, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "oh yeah? well, i noticed you way before that. i was already into you the first time you asked me what time class started. you literally already knew, but i could tell you just wanted to talk to me."

"and you think that means you fell first?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "i strategically sat near you during every lunch period! i even switched friend groups just to get closer to you."

jay shakes his head, smiling as he recalls those moments. "okay, but who was the one who went out of his way to offer you help in chemistry? even though i was just as lost as you were?"

you can’t help but laugh at that memory, your attempts to look like you understood the periodic table just as hopeless as jay’s. "oh, please. that was nothing compared to when i pretended i needed help with my project just so i could come over to your place.”

jay glances over at you, raising his eyebrows. "you did know how to finish that project, didn’t you?"

“of course i did! but i wanted an excuse to spend time with you,” you admit with a playful smile, knowing that your antics back then were nothing short of ridiculous.

“remember the time i stayed up all night baking cookies for your birthday? that definitely means i was in love with you before you even had a clue.”

“those cookies were good, but come on, y/n,” jay says, grinning as he keeps his eyes on the road. “i was the one who found out your favorite drink at that coffee shop you went to every morning, and then i ‘just so happened’ to show up there at the same time.”

"oh please, anyone could’ve done that," you shoot back, laughing. “i took hours picking out your birthday gift that year. i went to three different stores to find something you’d like.”

jay's laugh bubbles up, shaking his head. "okay, fine. but do you remember when i walked you home in the rain after class, even though i didn’t have an umbrella and was soaked by the time we got to your place?"

you bite your lip, remembering that moment vividly. you had felt guilty for days afterward, thinking he’d catch a cold just because he didn’t want you to walk home alone. "alright, that was sweet, but it still doesn’t prove you loved me first."

jay rolls his eyes playfully. "yes, it does. i was the one who volunteered to carry your books every day even though you insisted you didn’t need help.”

"oh, so now you’re just gonna keep using the ‘nice guy’ routine?" you tease, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. "because i waited for you outside your basketball practices just to see you for like five seconds."

“and i,” jay interjects, “started wearing cologne because you once told me that you liked how a guy smelled when he walked by in class. i literally changed my entire scent just for you.”

you burst out laughing at his confession. "are you serious? i had no idea! that’s actually kinda cute.”

“yeah, well, i was pretty obsessed with you,” jay admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

as you both make your way to the front door, the conversation picks right back up, neither of you ready to let the other win. the entire way up the stairs to your apartment, you continue to volley back and forth, trying to outdo each other’s arguments with more memories and playful jabs.

“i showed up to your first big presentation, remember? i even sat through two hours of boring speeches just to support you,” you say, sliding off your shoes by the door.

jay follows closely behind, grinning. "well, i drove two hours to surprise you at that concert you were dying to go to, even though i hate crowds."

you stop in the middle of the hallway, turning to face him. “oh, so now it’s a contest of who made the biggest sacrifice?”

jay laughs, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he watches you. "well, if it is, then i’m winning. i literally skipped out on a game with my friends just to hang out with you at that café. and i never miss game night.”

you shake your head, feeling your heart swell at how much effort he had put in. "okay, fine. but remember the time i took care of you when you got sick? i stayed up all night just to make sure you were okay.”

jay smirks, stepping closer to you. "and who was the one who brought you soup when you had that horrible cold and couldn’t get out of bed?"

"you did," you admit with a smile. "but that still doesn’t mean you loved me first."

jay takes another step closer, his grin softening into something sweeter, more intimate. "you really want to keep this going, huh?”

you nod, crossing your arms and trying to look defiant, even though your heart is racing.

“fine,” jay says, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper as he stands right in front of you now, eyes locked with yours. “there’s only one way to settle this.”

before you can respond, he gently cups your face in his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that melts away any lingering debate between you. his kiss is warm and sweet, like a silent reminder of how much he loves you, whether he fell first or not.

when he finally pulls away, you’re both smiling, breathless but content.

"now will you admit that i loved you first?" he asks, his forehead resting gently against yours.

you laugh, shaking your head slightly. "not a chance."

jay chuckles, pulling you into his arms as he hugs you tightly. "fine. as long as you know i love you now."

“that,” you whisper, snuggling into his chest, "i know for sure."

and with that, the playful argument fades away and whoever fell first be damned.

[beesspacedotorg]

Dibs

Summary: You get close with your new pack, especially the Luna. 5.5k words

Warnings: it's omegaverse. guys. it's omegaverse. there's gonna be omegaverse in it. reader is an omega, so is lino. there's mommy kink. towards lino. uh. there's s3x. what else. readers genitals and pronouns are not specified or elaborated on at all B). one (1) piss joke. poly ot8 and it's implied they all bone but there's no actual boning that happens. there's boning described once for two seconds.

Notes: I have almost all of the legendary fish in stardew. this was inspired by this ask that @hyunsvngs got like two days ago. it was also finished yesterday, but I was busy so I didn't post it. thanks to my friends who read it and gave me feedback. uhm. that's all.

Hyunjin is the one who finds you. You’re both in the same class at university, a filler class, something to do with philosophy, and you group up on a project to discuss the differences in the eastern and western versions of the practice.

“Do you think the whole ‘Alpha Mindset’ that’s going around these days could be a facet of modern philosophy, or is it just omegaphobia repackaged?” You’re dicking around on your laptop in class. After assigning the project, your teacher gave up on doing their job, which would be great, but attendance is still mandatory.

“Probably repackaged, hey I have a question for you.” Hyunjin sets his phone down when he asks, tilting in his seat to face you and your heart skips about seven beats in your chest.

He’s pretty, almost pretty enough that it’s annoying, that and he smells nice. It took you two weeks of classes to muster up the courage to ask him on a date only for him to say that he has seven boyfriends but he’d be more than happy to be friends. You would sell your soul to the nearest evil spirit to be lucky enough to have one boyfriend, much less seven, but you aren’t going to let a good opportunity slip out of your hands, so you took his offer of friendship even though you wanted- want- more.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You can feel that this conversation is bordering on serious, a topic that you and Hyunjin broach often. He’s the poetic type, and often you find yourself discussing the intricacies of human emotion with him. He seems nervous though, nervous enough that you temporarily pause Papa’s Pizzeria and boot up 2048 instead, giving him as much attention as you can offer.

“So. Okay wait. Give me a second, I have a list of questions to ask you. Seungmin made me a flowchart.” You smile at him, he’s cute. Seungmin is one of his boyfriends, Hyunjin spends more time than is strictly necessary talking your ear off about how smart and cute and talented Seungmin is. You’d be jealous if you hadn’t seen Seungmin pick Hyunjin up from school one time. Your pants filled with slick so fast you had to hide in the bathroom for half an hour pretending to be sick until you calmed down enough to head home.

“Okay. Uhm. Would you consider us to be good friends?” His voice sounds slightly robotic as he reads from his script and you laugh slightly before confirming.

“Oh, that’s great. Me too. Uh. Do you have a boyfriend?” He pauses. “Or a girlfriend, or a partner?” He adds those last two as an afterthought, rushing through them and you laugh again.

“You would know if I managed to pull that off, Hyunjinnie.”

“What about that pretty girl from your math class?”

“She only dates Alphas unfortunately.”

“Damn.” He doesn’t sound very sorry as he says it, but you can tell he’s trying to be nice. It irks you just a tad, but you think this conversation is leading up to something so you drop the irritation and motion for him to continue.

“Okay, if ‘no’, the next question was,” he’s mumbling to himself and you snort slightly. “Do you have a pack?” You blink. He’s never asked you this before and you shake your head. Where you’re from, people have moved away from forming packs, something about a post World War 2 culture shift and traditional values and homophobia and what not. Your generation is working to bring them back, but the only pack you have is your immediate family. You haven’t gotten close enough to anyone on campus to try and start one, and the one time you felt the need you were swiftly friendzoned.

“Ah. No. I don’t.” He hums sadly.

“Okay. Would you like one?”

“Hyunjin…” You’re starting to feel slightly defensive, and you’re not sure if you like where this is going.

“Wait. Wait. Let me finish.” He huffs. “I told Chan these questions would weird you out, but what do I know?” He sets his phone down and grabs the hand that was busy moving the 2048 tiles around on your computer screen.

“I have a crush on you.” You blink, rapid fire. “And I would like to date you. And also so would my seven boyfriends. But we can get to that later. I got here first, I call dibs.”

In the version of this you tell your friends and family, you accepted immediately and you and Hyunjin went on your first date that afternoon. In reality, you stood up so fast you almost passed out and hightailed it to the bathroom to have a mild panic attack. Hyunjin was kind enough to grab your things and wait for you. He was also kind enough to wait the months-long process of you being generally distrustful of him and his intentions until you decided he was actually serious and that you wanted to give it a try.

-

Which leads you to where you are now, in the passenger seat of Hyunjin’s car, hands outrageously sweaty as you prepare to meet the rest of the pack for the first time.

“Listen, we don’t have to.” He says. “I’ve talked it over with the rest of them, it can just be you and I. I like you, I want to date you.”

“No, no. Even if it does work that way, I’d have to meet them eventually.”

“Yeah, but meeting ‘my boyfriends that you have no commitment to’ would probably be easier than meeting ‘my boyfriends who might also become your boyfriends.’”

“I can guarantee you it wouldn’t.”

“Jeeze. You should talk to someone about that.”

“Insurance.”

“Channie has good insurance.”

“I’m not legally dependent on him.”

“Oh.”

He grabs your incredibly sweaty hand in his huge and not-so-sweaty one and holds it for the rest of the drive. When he pulls into the driveway he kisses said hand and bats the other one away from the door handle.

“Don’t worry. I got it.” Usually, he would just walk around the car to open it for you, today he bodily throws himself over the hood before doing a weird roll and a cartwheel. You laugh and he opens it and helps you out. He smiles.

You’re still laughing at him as he guides you to the front door and opens it, you’re laughing as he helps you take your shoes off, and you’re laughing through introductions.

“What’s so funny?” Jeongin asks, and you burst into more laughter as you remember the way Hyunjin chucked himself over the car. You’ve calmed down enough to tell him just as you hear yelling from a different room.

“Hwang Hyunjin! How the hell did you get dirt on your shirt? We told you to pick them up, not stop for mud wrestling!”

(You do, eventually, tell Jeongin what happened. He demands a live demonstration and almost cries at it.

“It’s just so dumb! He’s usually graceful and he just- How did he move his body like that?”

“That was the ugliest fucking cartwheel I’ve ever seen.”)

-

The pack is nice and touchy and, best of all, they want you around.

Heeelllloooooo

hi jisung

Jisung ??? Are you mad at me or smth?

hi jiji

Okay great

WHat are you doung today

And don’t say “your mom”

your mom

ah shit

uh. nothing. sleeping. eating. pissing.

In my mouth?

????????????

Ignore that.

Anyways.

Come over :D 

You can do all of that here

In my bed >:)

I was over there yesterday

Idc. I’m sending over Changbinnie with the car <3

I’M NOT PREPARED TO LEAVE THE HOUSE

Good thing you’re just coming to hang out with me then

-

So, you like them. You’re comfortable with them, there’s only one problem.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“How do you even know that?” Seungmin levels you with a stare.

“It’s physically impossible to hate you-”

“Not true.” Seungmin stares again. You stare back. He rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He doesn’t talk to me.”

“He’s shy.”

“Well! So am I! Only one of us can be shy in this relationship and I call dibs!” Seungmin huffs and smashes his head into a pillow.

“Kim Seungmin, if you mess up my nest, I’m kicking you out.”

“This is my bed.”

“Not anymore.” He fixes the pillow and holds your face in his hands.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“What if he does? What if Luna doesn’t like me?” Seungmin plants a kiss to your nose and lets you cry.

-

haihai

Minho?????

I’m the only one without a cute nickname

rectify that immediately

what should I call you then

Idk. I’ve never had to give myself a nickname.

anyways

a little puppy told me that you think I don’t like you

kim seungmin is dead to me

say your goodbyes

kkkkk

no need for that

I could smell your tears on him after you went home

I thought he scared you away

it took a very long time to get him to fess up >:)

what did you do

nothing he doesn’t enjoy

anyway 

Luna is sorry

for making you think he doesn’t like you

come over tomorrow

I’ll make it up to you >:)

???

I’m not really up to boning rn, sorry to say

>:( that’s not what I meant

Jisungie says you like this game

Stardew Valley

he says it has multiplayer mode

I downloaded it on our switch for us to play together

just us

everyone else can suffer

oh. 

just us?

unless you’d rather have company

I think Channie is free

NO THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT WE CAN PLAY IT ALONE

chan is free you say >:)

Yah! I called dibs on you!

I’m kicking him out of the house tomorrow

teehee

-

Stardew with Minho is surprisingly fun. You put him in charge of fishing while you spend your days toiling in the mines. He starts beef with Harvey, the local doctor, after you tell him that Harvey is your go-to love interest when you play the game solo.

“He’s pixels! Code and pixels!”

“I don’t care! This stupid doctor wanders onto our farm and charges me money for passing out on my own land. And! He’s stealing my Omega. He needs to go. How do I replace him?” You let out a laugh and ignore the flutters in your stomach when he casually lays claim on you.

“Do you get this upset when Felix or Ji talk about their media crushes?”

“... I don’t see how that’s very relevant to the conversation.”

“You’re silly.” He huffs at you.

-

“Why is this fish ugly?”

“That’s a- You just caught a legendary fish. Do you know how hard that is?”

“It’s ugly. I’m selling it.”

“No, don’t! Let me buy a fish tank! We can display it on our farm!”

“Why would you want to display this?”

“You can only catch one per save file.” He rolls his eyes but dutifully places the fish in the tank when you return to the farm. You kiss his cheek and watch his ears turn red.

-

After that, spending time with Minho is easy. You can’t really imagine what it was like being in the pack without having his attention on you. Felix starts joking that he’s been replaced as Minho’s favorite. (He stops because it starts to make you mildly upset, but also because you’re pretty sure Minho sucked the soul out of his dick right after he first made that joke.)

It comes to a head around exam season, this time, you and Hyunjin don’t share any classes, and annoyingly, Chan is too busy to eat much less help you settle, so you end up floundering with anxiety and stress and lack of sleep.

“Jagi? What’s wrong?” It’s Minho, his scent lavender and undercut with something sugar coated.

“Everything.” Your head is in your hands and you’re shoving your palms into your eyes to push back tears. Minho hums, hand coming to the back of your neck to scruff you just slightly.

“What’s your schedule like right now?” You shove your calendar at him and he hums, considering for a second before he’s hauling you up by your armpits.

“Wait- I have to study. I can’t just-”

“You have to eat.” This is the harshest you’ve ever heard him speak to you, but strangely enough, you don’t feel scared. “You have to eat and sleep and maybe shower and cuddle with Luna because he misses you and then you can get back to studying. Yeah?”

His suggestion makes you whine and struggle in his hold a bit. His hand returns to your neck to re-scruff you.

“Settle. I’m not asking, jagi, I’m telling.” You huff and pout at him, but he’s the pack’s head Omega for a reason, and who are you to question his authority? So you listen, going limp in his hold and forcing him to bear your weight.

“I see why you and Seungminnie get along so well. You’re listening, but not without struggle, hmm? Brats. The both of you.”

“‘M not.”

“You are. But that’s okay, Luna will train it out of you some other time. You’ll learn to behave.”

You can ignore how his words sent a spike of heat to your belly, but you can’t ignore the way he smirks at the change in your scent.

“Oh? Do you like that?”

“... I thought I was supposed to be eating.”

“Nice subject change. But yes, you are. Sit there and let me handle it.”

He feeds you and helps you shower, despite your many protests that you’re gross and can handle it yourself he refuses to back down.

“Let me do this for you, hmm?” His eyes are soft. “I don’t have to if you really don’t want me to, but I want to take care of you. Let me take care of my baby.” So you do, melting under his soft gaze and softer words, and he must be doing something with his scent, because you feel mildly scent drunk as he drags you into his nest.

“I’m allowed in?” You’re surprised. You’ve never been in his room before, most of your hangouts happening in the living room or Chan’s room when he’s not home because Minho thinks it’s funny to bother the Alpha. So you’re slightly out of it and a lot surprised and Minho looks a little upset that you asked but he takes your arm and shoves you onto his bed, rearranging his nest around you before climbing in himself.

“Of course you’re allowed in. You think Kim Seungmin is allowed in here and you’re not? You think I let a sweaty, post-gym Changbin in here but won’t let you? You’re silly. Hush.”

“But-”

“Hush.”

“Okay.” He hums, satisfied at your submission and wraps himself around you. 

“Luna will give you a reward when you finish exams.”

“What if I don’t pass?”

“You still deserve a reward for trying.” He kisses your head and you fall asleep like that, curled around each other, comfortable in his bed and warm in his arms.

-

“I’m finished!” You wander into the house the next week, fully prepared to spend your break doing absolutely nothing.

“Yay! With what, exactly?” Changbin asks. You hang your self off of him, forcing him to drag you along as he putters around the kitchen.

“With exams! Didn’t Yongbokkie and Minho ban you from the kitchen?”

“Well, yes. But what they don’t know won’t kill them.”

“What who doesn’t know?” It’s Minho, and you giggle as you push your face in between Changbin’s shoulder blades. He’s so big and warm. You want to bite him and also want him to hold you against a wall for unholy acts. Your hands wander around while he’s stuttering out a lame excuse to grope his chest.

“Wh- Hey! I’m busy getting threatened here!”

“Yes. I’m busy celebrating being a genius. It seems we both have full schedules.”

“Celebrating,” Minho steps next to you and taps you until you look at him, cheek still smushed against Changbin’s back. “Are you finished with exams then?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closing. Changbin really is comfortable, he smells slightly like chocolate and raspberries, and you could do with a celebratory nap.

“That’s great!” You’re being tugged away from your napping spot. “Come, Luna promised you a reward.”

“My nap.”

“You can’t sleep standing, you’re not a horse.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

He crosses his arms after closing the door to his bedroom.

“Do you want to nap before or after your reward?”

“What’s my reward?” The sentence hasn’t been out of your mouth for very long before he’s cupping the back of your head and kissing you.

“Oh. Oh. This is a good reward.” He smiles against your mouth, gently pushing you back towards his bed.

“Yeah? I thought you’d like it. I can smell you, you know.” Your back is hitting the mattress and there’s a shirt by your head that you think Hunjin was looking for a little while ago. “When you stare at me for too long, I can smell how needy you get. We all can, but I called dibs.”

“Dibs?” Your hands are under his shirt squishing his pecs.

“Mhm. Dibs. Hyunjinnie got to date you first. Kiss and hug and hold your hand. But do you know what I get to do first?” You shake your head and he gives you a wicked smile before he leans down next to your ear. “I get to fuck you first. Not Channie, not our Alpha, not Hyunjinnie who found you first. Me, your Luna. I get you first.” You inhale, shaky, and your legs shake slightly with the way blood rushes away from your brain. You can smell how your scent spikes and you can smell how Minho’s spikes in return. He smells so good, you want to get your mouth on him, so you do. You pull him down until his neck is in reach and seal your lips around the scent gland there, licking the sweat from his skin and letting your lungs fill with nothing but him.

“Jagi,” his voice is breathy, he pulls your head away from his neck and you whine. “You’re gonna get yourself scent drunk and I want you to be present for the things I’m going to do to you. Be good for me.” You pout slightly at him but nod, you’ll be good for him, you’ll do anything he wants. But you want to kiss him again, you want to kiss him so badly that you think you’ll die without it. You throw yourself up, arms circling around his neck as you press your mouth on his and you knock him off balance a bit. You’re upset when he tilts, separating your mouths and you push and push until suddenly he’s on his back under you, but you’re finally kissing so you don’t care all that much.

“Eager.” He’s too busy trying to talk to kiss you and you nip at his lip lightly until he gets the message.

“You’re only getting away with this because this is the first time,” he warns. “Next time, I won’t be so lenient.” You think he might be lying, that he’d let you do whatever you want regardless of how many times you fall into bed together, but you aren’t in the habit of letting other people know you have an advantage so you let it go.

You’re grinding down onto him, chasing friction as your pants fill with enough slick that you worry you might be in heat, whimpering with every movement when he grabs your hips, stopping you.

“Minho, why?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Don’t you wanna get your pants off? Hmm? Feel me bare?” And suddenly, you do. He’s so smart for knowing that, you think. You let him slide your bottoms off and tug at his until they’re gone and there’s nothing separating the two of you save for the fact that you can’t fuse into one person.

You settle yourself back over him and oh. Omegas are supposed to be small, in the dick department, and you suppose compared to an Alpha, he might be. But he feels so good against you, he’ll feel so good inside of you, that you don’t much care, pawing at him desperately. He chuckles and grabs your hand, flipping you back over so he’s on top again.

“Baby, don’t tell me you’re already gone?” You are. You’re so gone. If you’re being honest, you were gone the second he kissed you. He does it again and you whine into his mouth.

“Noisy little thing. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Make sure my pretty Omega is all satisfied before you leave my bed.” He smiles and then he’s kissing his way down your neck and grumbling about the shirt you’re still wearing before his mouth is on the place where you’re leaking slick and suddenly your brain is falling out of your ears.

Your hands grab onto his hair and pull, hips arching up into his mouth. You think the sound that you let out could be heard from outer space, but in your defense, he’s good with his tongue.

“I knew you’d taste good.” You have no idea how he’s still talking, but the vibrations feel nice enough that you don’t want to stop him, that and you don’t think you could stop Minho from doing much of anything at this rate.

“We talked about it, you know.” You didn’t know. The pack talked about you? You quickly lose your train of thought as he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Small, he always says. They don’t feel small.

“It was all Jeonginnie could talk about during his last rut.” Minho huffs and you can see him roll his eyes despite the fact that yours are closed. You weren’t there for his last rut, too nervous and too busy with school to stay. It had caused quite the fuss and you had to spend extra time with Jeongin before and after to soothe him.

“Knuckle deep in Yongbokkie and all he could talk about was you. How good you’d taste, how warm you’d be. He’s lucky that Yongbokkie has the hots for you too, otherwise he’d be down one appendage.” The implication of the youngest Alpha getting his dick chopped off by Felix makes you laugh, but the knowledge that the pack desires you knocks the wind from your lungs. Either that, or the thing Minho is currently doing with his fingers.

He licks you again, and then places his mouth around your hole and sucks, like he’s trying to drink the slick straight from your body. The sound it makes is absolutely obscene, and your face heats at it, hands coming up to hide.

“No, no. Move your hands, jagiya. Let me see you.” He’s moving, mouth no longer on you and you hate it, but your embarrassment outweighs everything else so you don’t move your hands and instead shake your head at him. He pauses, hand stilling inside of you.

“No? Did you just tell me no, sweet thing?” You shake your head again.

“You didn’t? It seems like you did. Seems like you still are.” He’s laughing, or, he was.

“I thought you were going to be good for me. Do I have to turn this reward into a punishment?” That’s the one that does it, your eyes go wide and your hands fall from your face to grab at him, head shaking violently.

“No! No! Mommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I was just nervous, please. I’ll be good. I’m good.” It takes you a second to register what you’ve said, and when you do your hands move up to cover your face again. Minho catches your wrists.

“Mommy? Yeah? Am I your mommy, sweetheart?” He drops your wrist to cup your face and you’ve lost all coordination. He taps your cheek, just a hint of a slap, but it’s enough to have you looking at him with wet eyes.

“I asked you a question, jagiya. Answer mommy when he talks to you, okay?” You nod, still in a daze and he huffs and takes a hold of your hair.

“What did I just tell you, doll?”

“To answer you.”

“Mhm, and what are you not doing?”

“Answering.”

“So what do you say to me?”

“I’m sorry, mommy. I’m sorry, please let go, it hurts.” He lets go of your hair and gently massages your scalp.

“Hmm. That’s better. And, it’s supposed to hurt, baby. That’s how you learn to listen to your mommy. That’s what a brat like you needs to learn their place.” You choke slightly on your own spit, hands coming up to rest in his hair, playing with it. He smiles at you.

“Good. Now, be good for your mommy, yeah? Be good for your Luna and I’ll make sure you get everything you need. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yes. I can.” He hums and suddenly his fingers are in you again and he manages to take one of your nipples into his mouth, and you’re already so keyed up that you feel slightly embarrassed when you’re cumming on his hand a moment later.

“Oh, sweet thing. Did I take too long? Hmm? Did mommy tease you too much?” You shake your head.

“No, ‘m sorry, mommy.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Don’t worry so much. You used your brain so well this past week, let mommy do the thinking for you. I’ll tell you when to apologize, how about that?”

“Sounds good.” You’re hot, overwarm, and you're shoving your shirt off the rest of the way and chucking it somewhere. The shirt’s only over your eyes for a second, but somehow Minho has managed to coat his fingers in his own slick and shove them into your mouth. Your eyes roll so far back into your head you’re worried they might stick but he tastes so good that you would suffer blindness for eternity just to have this.

“Mommy, mommy, you taste so good-”

“Shh, I know.” He shoves his fingers far enough back that you gag a little and your eyes water and he coos and wipes at your tears with the hand that was in you, smearing slick across your cheekbones.

His fingers are out of your mouth and he’s between your legs, shoving them apart to get at your hole and then he's sliding in.

“Oh God.”

“Just Minho is fine. Or mommy,” he giggles at you, “since you seem so fond of it.”

Your glare slightly at him, less than pleased with the corny joke, but he shifts his hips and hits a spot that has you keening, arching up into him for more.

“There? Yeah? Jesus. You're leaking so much that I'd think you're in heat if you didn't know any better.” He's right, but it's unfair of him to single you out.

“You are too.” It comes out a lot more whiny than you wanted but he’s nice enough to look offended anyway.

“I thought I took care of your attitude. It seems I have my work cut out for me.” His pace picks up at that, and suddenly you don't have enough brain cells to think, let alone talk back.

You're not wrong though, there's slick everywhere. From you and him, it's soaking through the sheets, it's sticking your thighs together every time he thrusts forward, it's coating his hands and everywhere he touches you. It's loud, the slapping of your bodies accompanied by a wet squish every time either of you moves. It's messy and sticky and slightly gross and you want more. You want to be covered in him and he in you until you smell so similar not even the best drug dog would be able to tell you apart.

Your hands wander searching and searching until you’ve found the place where he’s leaking too and you're coating your fingers in it and smearing a hand over your chest before sticking them in your mouth. You hear Minho gasp and his hips stutter before picking back up.

“Dirty, that’s dirty, Omega. You want me to make a mess of you?” You nod. Of course you do. You want your mommy to do whatever he wants to you. He coos and guides your hand back to his hole, guiding you into fingering him while he’s rearranging your guts.

“Mommy, it’s- you’re so warm.” He hums at you, breath finally turning ragged.

“Yeah? You wanna fuck mommy sometime? I bet you’d be good at it. Such a good little Omega for me, for us.” You do. You would like to fuck him sometime. Anytime really, you bet he’d be so warm. Tight and hot and wet. You have him on your fingers now, but you’re too overwhelmed to really enjoy it the way it should be enjoyed, the way he should be enjoyed. You want to eat him out, drink his slick straight from the source for the rest of time. You wouldn’t need water or food anymore if you could just have him.

“Yeah, I would. Mommy, please. I’ll be good. I’ll do so good.” You’re babbling at him, out of it and barely able to speak. He has to strain to understand you properly.

“You would. Mommy knows you would. Such a sweetheart, you’d make your Luna feel so good, hmm?” And you tighten around him with a loud moan and there’s a bang on the wall connecting Minho’s room to Chan’s and Minho bangs back.

“Yah! Just because you’re too busy to get your dick wet doesn’t mean I am! Leave us alone and go jack off or something!” He huffs and looks back down at you, kissing your nose softly in a stark juxtaposition to the way his hips are probably bruising your own.

“Why don’t you go ahead and cum, baby? Hmm? Mommy’s right behind you.” He shoves his fingers in your mouth again and this time, this time, his fingers are coated in a heady mixture of yours and his slick and that’s what does you in. That’s what makes you cum so hard your legs shake and makes Minho take his fingers out of your mouth lest you choke. He follows not too soon after, and when he pulls out you can see the mixture of cum and slick slide out of you.

“Next time,” Minho’s looking down at it too, “I’ll make sure that stays in. Can’t have it go to waste, can we?”

-

Despite his earlier promise, he doesn’t let you nap yet.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said. And now I’m saying that you can’t sleep like this.”

He bodily drags you to the shower, again, and changes the sheets before he lets you lie down.

“My hair is gonna be so dry.”

“Where’s the stuff you put in it?”

“At my house.”

“This is your house.”

“I still rent an apartment close to campus.” Minho pauses, shifting so you’re face-to-face.

“Don’t. Come live with us.”

“There aren’t enough rooms.”

“If privacy is what you’re worried about, Luna will build you a room right next to his with his bare hands.” You giggle at him.

“Yeah. But I have to pay a fee for breaking my lease.”

“Luna will take care of it.”

-

haihai

hi minho what’s up

>:( still no cute nickname?

I feel like it’s inappropriate to call you mommy in a casual setting

oh >:)? that’s my nickname now?

if that’s okay

whatever you want

as long as I have a cute nickname before kim seungmin I don’t care

then why did you harass me about it??????!??!?!

kkkk I had to get you in my bed somehow

-

“Can you guys stop texting when you’re right next to each other? All of your weird flirting is really interrupting movie time.” Jisung is complaining from where his head is rammed into your stomach.

“Dude. You’re literally not even watching it.” It’s Jeongin now, reaching over to smack Ji’s head.

“And? You’re the one who’s always complaining about how loud they are.” This is news to you.

“Is it really that bad?” Your voice is small and immediately Minho’s hands are touching you.

“No. They don’t know what they’re talking about, they’re just mad that they haven’t figured out how to get you to make such pretty noises yet.”

The room erupts into shouts as people defend themselves from Minho’s claim, you smile at him and tuck yourself further into his side, kicking Jisung out from his spot in your lap.

“Hey! I called dibs on your lap! You can’t take that away!” He’s shoving at your knees, trying to shove them back off the couch so he can lay comfortably again.

“When did you guys even call dibs on all this stuff?”

“It used to be while you were on the drive here,” Felix says, “now we do it while you’re  getting a blanket from your room.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Sure. Just call dibs first.”

[faewoozi]

i win. ft hoshi x fem!reader ( 18 + MDNI )

summary: if kwon soonyoung has one hater in this universe it’s definitely you. despite having the same friend group you’re usually icy to him as you can't seem to get along to save your life. or at least that's how it appears. soonyoung though through his own curiosity discovers a truth you've tried to bury deep inside…maybe something else needs to be buried deep inside you, and it will if he gets his way.

♡ pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

♡ genre: smut w a lil plot ( growth! )

♡ word count: 9.5k

♡ this work feats: hoshi being annoying lmao, reader also being annoying. fingering, protected piv sex ( proud of myself for that one), oral ( receiving ), lots of descriptions of lady parts, there is a LOT of swearing in this one. some mild jihoon flirting too. let me know if I missed anything.

a/n: feel free to judge me for that summary because I deserve it lmao. as an aries i got that dawg in me so i'm probably just as competitive as hoshi. which is probably why reader is a lil petty. i could not imagine the chaos unleashed upon the world if hoshi could read minds in reality. anyway i'm having a ton of fun writing in this weird little universe. I think I was going to write Jun next butttttt there's a part two to this one specifically. Yes it is woozi x reader x hoshi why do you ask? I haven't revealed what Woozi's ability is yet either so it's gonna be fun! also time travel, campus radio dj!vernon is coming too because i've started working on that one as well.

“Is Soonyoung coming?” You found yourself asking despite already knowing the answer. Seokmin had finally come out of being stuck in his girlfriend’s armpit and actually wanted to see his friends for once. He had recently scored his first big paying theater gig and wanted everybody to come out and celebrate tomorrow. That meant you of course…but also…Kwon Soonyoung.

“Y/n he’s one of my best friends. I can’t not invite him. He even taught me to dance, I doubt I’d be scoring these kind of roles if he hadn’t helped me.” Seokmin replied in exasperation, but he was pouting. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could turn down without hearing about it every single day or your life with Seokmin.

“Fine. I’ll come with Jun, stay for an hour but the moment he starts up with me I’m gone.” You said in irritation, already regretting the idea that you'd be in a room with him.

“You know that old saying right? He’s only messing with you because he likes you. Or maybe because you started it. I don’t know, it’s kinda hard with Soon he doesn’t know what the high road is. If someone’s mean to him he takes that as a personal challenge to either get them to like him or to hate him more.” Seokmin responded and you frowned.

You knew all too well how irritating you could be but you didn’t start it. Soonyoung started it the moment he called you dour and boring — unprovoked no less! You'd been minding your business and no you were never interested in involving yourself with the weirdness Soonyoung got up to. That didn’t make you boring, it made you sane. So it was fuck him until the end of time. Or that’s what you were trying to project anyway.

“He started it. I’m just finishing things.” You snapped and Seokmin feigned hurt. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I said I’d come okay. That’s all you’re getting out of me. I do not have to be happy about it at all.”

“That’s…not nice. But I won’t complain. It’ll be fun. Lots of drinks, he won’t even know you’re there.” Seokmin said patting your shoulder gently.

You scoffed at Seokmin. “That’s what you said last time when we did that birthday dinner for Hannie and within five minutes we were arguing and I was about to hit him over the head with a fire extinguisher and go to jail.”

Seokmin couldn’t fight back a grin. “Oh yeah you did almost kill him that night. I forgot that’s why we stopped inviting you both to things. But you know what? After that night he told me he doesn’t really think you hate him. He was really freaked out at first. He said he’s always able to win everyone over. But not you, but then I don’t know…the next morning he was all happy. He said you didn’t actually hate him. You were just keeping up appearances, being tsundere or whatever.” 

You sighed. “That’s because he lives in la la fucking land and doesn’t understand boundaries and reality. This is why I really don’t want to go.”

“Wow, so you mean it? You’re going to miss out on such an important event in my life because of one guy? Kwon Soonyoung of all people? He can dictate your whole life like that?”

You let out a groan. “Hey don’t use your shitty psych electives on me. I’ll go. But like I said one hour and then I’m gone.”

It took around forty five minutes for Soonyoung to figure out you were at Seokmin’s party. Longer than you anticipated but still right at the hour mark nonetheless. Which meant it was time to go, except you literally had no idea where your ride was. One moment you and Jun were dancing, giggling with one another and then the next he was gone and somehow Soonyoung was there. He had a wicked grin on his stupidly cute face and the grin was only growing wider.

The intensity of the urge to hit him and then kiss him was stronger than anticipated no doubt due to the fact that you were two red solo cups in with whatever jungle juice Mingyu threw together. That is what also made Soonyoung infuriating. Not only did he annoy you to no end but he had the nerve to be so enticingly attractive and sometimes hilarious while he did it, which made it hard to be his number one hater a title you took even more serious than your grades at this point.

“You come to parties now?” He asked, hiding his grin against the rim of the cup in his hand.

“Why are you talking to me?” You responded in irritation and he lowered his cup slouching against the wall to face you fully.

“You’re always so bitchy with me. It’d be annoying if I didn’t know you think I’m cute.”

Heat flooded your face for just a moment. How the hell did he know that? You never told anyone...well maybe Jun, glancing at him though he had the same shit eating grin he wore when he felt he was right or winning at something. And a good portion of the time he was wrong. He was saying this to get you riled up no doubt, just throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks so he could use it against you at some point in some awful embarrassing way.

You let out a bitter laugh. “Funny, I thought you’d gotten past your delusional phase.”

Soonyoung leaned in closer his breath ghosting against your ear. “I’m practically shit faced but I know for a fact you want to ride my dick.”

This caused actual laughter to burst out of you. He was definitely drunk, and definitely trying to get under your skin. He usually went the obnoxious route, seducing you or whatever this was seemed to be a new trick he was trying out. You had no doubt that if you admitted it he’d personally make a website dedicated to the fact just to embarrass you. Or he'd rent out the band or something to broadcast it to everyone. Either way you weren't biting. “Soonyoung, you’re drunk. Get away from me.”

You started to walk away but he took hold of your arm pulling you back. Taking in the look on your face he immediately let go and took a step back. But he was still smiling, and it wasn’t his shit eating grin. This was something else. This was a smirk, a knowing — you didn’t like the look of that at all. Which is probably why you even bothered engaging him. The last thing you wanted was for him to think this was a conversation he won.

“Look whatever you think you know you’re wrong. Once back in sophomore year I think I told Jun you looked cute at the talent show. You had on leather pants — it was cool to see you dance because that’s the only time that night you weren’t talking and you weren’t fucking being the bane of my existence. The Y/n of now is wildly different and understands that leather pants, good dancer or not, you’re the absolute worst.” You said with a nonchalant shrug.

But that didn’t deter him at all. He looked bemused, utterly unconvinced by what you were saying, which seemed to infuriate you in your drunken state more. He should be wanting to argue, not just standing there smiling and looking completely rideable as he so helpfully pointed out. His grin widen. Shit. Did you say that out loud?

“We should make out.” He said in reply.

“Why the hell would I do that?” You asked in disbelief.

“Proof. If you don’t want me. Kiss me. I’ll be able to tell.”

You scoffed. “Fuck that. I’m going to find Jun.” You weren’t being baited into weird  Soonyoung shit. This is why the two of you didn't hang out. Being his friend was akin to majoring in getting into nonsense, something you had no interest in. You begin weaving through people at the party in search of your friend. But Soonyoung was right behind you.

“See this is the response of someone who definitely wants to fuck me. I mean you won’t kiss me because you know it’ll mess with you and I’ll be able to tell. A great philosopher once said that sometimes two people have to have sex to solve their problems.” He downed the rest of his drink and tossed the cup absentmindedly, accidentally hitting Chan in the head who was striking out with some freshman in his chem classes.

“Ow what the — ah shit Soonyoung leave Y/n alone we agreed that if you came you would back off we cannot have the cops show up again.” Chan said rubbing his clearly fine head.

“I’m not bothering you am I?” Soonyoung asked glancing at you.

“Yes you are go away.” You replied, standing on your tiptoes in search of Jun who was tall and should not be this hard to see.

“Said like someone who definitely wants my cock in their —“

You turned, grabbed Soonyoung by his face and smashed your mouth to his. This was supposed to prove a point, it would shut him up, there were witnesses to see that you had absolutely no interest in him — except for the part where his arm snaked around your waist and he pulled you flush against him. And the part where his tongue was in your mouth and he tasted like something sweet ( but also like alcohol). Oh and the part where it was an achingly good kiss. A kiss you needed to stop.

“Finally.” A voice that sounded suspiciously like Seungcheol.

“It was so annoying watching them bicker.” Wonwoo definitely.

“God I wish that was me.” Awww Chan.

But nope. This had gone on long enough. You had an image to uphold. You pulled away from a semi dazed Soonyoung and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Then you spit on the floor.

“Hey! I live here!” Mingyu exclaimed in mild horror pushing through the crowd.

“Fuck that was so bad. Is that really how you kiss?” With such soft lips and gentle swipes of his tongue?

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. No one's complained before.” You frowned and then let loose a condescending laugh.

“Just shows the quality of the people you date.” You nearly shouted through your laughter.

“Hey!” An offended voice rose from the crowd but you didn’t see who.

Soonyoung stared at you. He stood there silent for nearly a full minute. The room held its breath wondering what would happen, Mingyu had his phone out like the cops were on speed dial and then Soonyoung stepped as close to you as he possibly could and bent slightly,  lowering his voice so that only you could hear him.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard you forget your own name. You’re going to want my cock in you every single night. And because I like you so much I’m going to give it to you. Then you can have my soft lips and gentle tongue whenever you want.” He pressed a kiss to your mouth briefly and then he walked away disappearing into the throng of onlookers.

Suddenly Jun was at your side. “Oh my God are you friends with Soon now?”

Fuck Kwon Soonyoung. And not in the fun sexy way he wanted. But in the fuck him and his dog and his mom’s dog too kind of way. Because he had upended your brain. Who did he think he was declaring such filthy things to you at a party and then kissing you? And what was wrong with you? Because you found something thrilling and attractive about replaying those words over and over in your mind. Enough that occasionally at night your hand slid between your legs with them ringing in your ears.

And how did he know to say exactly what you thought of your first kiss? Soft lips and gentle tongue —- he nailed it. Just like he said he would. Somehow he’d discovered in that kiss that maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you said. He could have some endearing qualities but then he’d do something to infuriate you again, or maybe that was just easier than the alternative, actually trying to be his friend.

Maturity and growth were not welcome visitors in your life at the moment. You enjoyed the version of yourself that got to be petty and childish around him. Maturity would mean confirming what Seokmin said the other day but applying it to yourself. Maybe you messed with him because you found him attractive? Growth meant setting aside your stale grudge and actually attempting to be normal with him. But after the party? Those words? His declaration? He couldn’t win. He would be insufferable otherwise. There would be no giving in, Soonyoung simply could not come out of this victorious. You wouldn't let him.

“He’s the most competitive person we know. He’s going to make good on whatever he said. I know you know this.” Jihoon said as the two of you walked across campus to the library. No one knew what Soonyoung had actually said to you, they just knew he got quiet, which meant whatever he said required action. Soonyoung only got quiet when he was serious and he needed to strategize.

“Right, but Jihoon I know he confided in you. He tells you everything. Just say what you know and help me.” You pleaded.

Jihoon shrugged. “He only said that he wanted to ask you out. Shua told him you liked that Cuban place we went to a few weeks ago. That’s it.”

You looped your arm through Jihoon’s giddy at knowing this information for two separate reasons. Kind of cute he was seeking out advice from mutual friends to ask you out. Also good to know so you could turn him down and shatter his little pea brain, and ruin his plans of catching you off guard. You would not be swept off your feet and into his bed.

You and Jihoon continued across campus towards the library and Soonyoung came into view. You did a quick once over of him before taken sudden interest in a few people passing out fliers. As always he looked infuriatingly handsome. He approached both of you, his eyebrow raising at your interlocking arms.

“Y/n. Jihoon.” Soonyoung said. He seemed normal, laid back even, despite the fact that the last time you spoke or saw each other was over a week ago at the party. You’d been avoiding most other places you might go socially, usually going to third wheel with Seokmin and his partner when you needed social interaction. But definitely not Mingyu and Wonwoo’s or with Chan and Seungkwan. That was asking to run into each other.  And who knew what he’d do?

“Soonyoung, should we talk about the party? Did I hurt your feelings?” You were trying to keep your voice sincere.

“We can talk about it if you want? And my feelings aren’t hurt, they’re…well you already know how I feel.” Soonyoung replied with a sly grin.

“I thought that was a joke and you were drunk. We don’t even like each other, why would we take something like that serious?” You said dismissively and Soonyoung burst into laughter.

“I don’t joke about where I stick my dick.”

“Yep I’m gone.” Jihoon untangled himself from you and immediately turned in the direction you came from walking off.

You took hold of Soonyoung dragging him away from the front of the library and open ears. “Thank you so much for broadcasting that in front of Jihoon.” You hissed and Soonyoung just shrugged.

“He’s my roommate he knows more about my sexual history than anyone. He doesn’t care.” Soonyoung said waving the thought of Jihoon off, and then a dangerous gaze settled over you. “Wow, you look really fucking good today. Did you do that for me?” You scoffed. So maybe his words from the party got you a little riled up, but he was taking this too far. You dressed for yourself and yourself only. You would never consider in a million years whether Soonyoung liked something you wore.

“This has got to stop. This is worse than us trying to kill each other.” You declared, but Soonyoung stepped closer. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, his fingers brushed delicately against exposed skin. You fought to keep your breath steady, why was he so close?

“Oh. So that’s what it is. You like when I touch you.” The words escaped his mouth like a revelation as he glided a finger against your neck and then beneath your chin. He tilted your head upwards to look at him. “Soonyoung 1, Y/N 0 and simping harder than I’ve ever seen.”

Your hand shot up smacking his away from you. He would not move you, it didn’t matter that he looked as good as he did. It didn’t matter that his touch was sending little shivers through you. Your face remained neutral, but a slight smile begin to edge onto it. “If you’re keeping score then I’m going to actually have to start playing the game.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at this. “Meaning?”

“You think the way to winning this —- thing that occurred at Seok’s party is by trying to seduce me. I get it Soonyoung, you like watching me squirm because it gives you the upper hand in our never ending power struggle of who hates who more but I haven’t been playing. I don’t think you could handle it if I did.” You said coolly, watching his expression shift. His jaw set and you could tell his competitive nature was kicking in.

“I’m pretty sure I could handle whatever you throw at me just fine. And this isn’t a game Y/n, since kissing you at the party, I don’t know. Something changed. I know it has in you.” Soonyoung responds but you’re having none of it. You know him, you’ve known him for years and whatever this is, Soonyoung will slip up sooner rather than later. He’s not being sincere in anyway, when has he ever been?

“Fine. Then consider the score reset. Soonyoung 0 and Y/n 0. We’ll see who wins.” You gave his chest a harder than necessary pat and then headed into the library confident that if you start throwing a few moves of your own his way this whole entire thing will collapse in on itself and you could return to how things were meant to be. Mutual dislike between the two of you, no sexual tension at all.

Soonyoung was winning. He was definitely winning. There wasn’t a move or a fake flirt you could do that he didn’t have a response for. The other night while getting tacos with Seungkwan and Chan you had the brilliant idea of casually sitting in his lap. You just knew it would absolutely throw him off his game. Chan and Seungkwan’s heads nearly exploded from it, but Soonyoung wrapped an arm around you and then attempted to feed you as if it was something you did everyday. He wasn’t even flustered. He didn't even break his stride in making fun of Seungkwan, you were just in his arms and then you had to sit there so it didn't look like he had completely bested you. Which he had.

Tonight would be different you declared. Your uni had gotten into the playoffs for the baseball season. It was a huge deal for your friends since Mingyu and Seokmin were both playing. You'd only been at the game twenty minutes when Soonyoung sat next to you after bribing Jun to move with ice cream and a bag of cotton candy. You'd been on your guard immediately. But Soonyoung was doing what he had the other night with the tacos. Acting as if all of this was normal. He bought all your favorite concession snacks, he made you take two pictures with him and his hand kept casually groping your leg like you were on a date. You were so confused by the whole thing you just drifted along unsure how to respond. You certainly didn't want to argue with him and ruin the night for everyone since this was such a big deal.

“Have you ever considered that he might be telling the truth?” Jihoon asked later that night at the game as you two stood in line for the bathroom. Soonyoung offered to escort you but you forced Jihoon up and out of your seats faster than you thought yourself capable. “I get that he’s…excitable but when he’s serious about something he can change drastically. This wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Do you even hear yourself? We don’t like each other. We’ve been fighting since high school. I didn’t even know he’d wind up here. If I did I would’ve gone to my second pick almost immediately to avoid him.” You groan and Jihoon looks as if he wants to be anywhere but having this discussion with you.

“Have I mentioned before that I don’t like getting in the middle of things like this? Especially when it comes to Soonyoung he’s intense.” Jihoon offered and you began to pout.

“That is so unfair. Everyone is on his side. Maybe he’s serious y/n, maybe he’s just tired of bickering, maybe he isn’t as petty as you think. Bullshit. All of you.” You said jabbing a finger at Jihoon who furrowed his brow and craned his head away from you like you were crazy.

“Wow. You two…are a lot alike. That’s mildly terrifying. Anyway, fine hypothetically if I was on your side what would you want me to do?” Jihoon asked, his tone full of regret as you began to smile.

“Flirting with him isn’t working. He just flirts back and it seems to confirm this idea that I like him, whatever. So I’m going to completely burst his bubble and flirt with you.”

Misery overcame Jihoon’s face. He opened his mouth to protest but you were already shaking your head. “Too late. We’re flirting. Try and make the reactions authentic.” You say getting ready to disappear into the bathroom.

“And if I refuse?” Jihoon questioned.

“I’ll tell everyone that you like holding hands. Seok, Gyu and Soonyoung especially would love learning that about you. They’d hold your hand every chance they got.”

Jihoon looked horrified but cowed. “I shared that with you in confidence and now you’re using it to blackmail me. Seriously you and Soonyoung would probably be a power couple. This is exactly what he’d do. Like shit, I’m kind of floored at how immature you both are." Soonyoung was prepared for every move you threw at him but he absolutely wouldn’t be prepared for the ones that you’d be throwing at Jihoon. It was hard to keep a diabolical laugh from bubbling out of you as you considered the thought.

---

Now Soonyoung was staring daggers into the side of Jihoon’s head. At first he’d been a little confused when you both came back from the bathroom and you sat down leaning your head to Jihoon’s shoulder, who stiffened and then relaxed after a moment when it became clear his life wasn’t in immediate danger from his best friend. Then you shared snacks and you legitimately giggled when your hands bumped into each other like you were in a rom com or something. Even then Soonyoung seemed a little lost but not upset.

But then to your surprise while talking to Jihoon about music theory class, out of reflexive habit his hand came up to move hair from your face. A move that threw you off enough to blush because it wasn't in Jihoon's nature to be affectionate in anyway. Jihoon blushed too as if realizing he made an error and for a brief moment something felt …different between the two of you. But then Soonyoung shifted and when you glanced his way he was scowling harder than you’d ever seen him. Now he refused to take his eyes off Jihoon, the look of betrayal on his face was hard to miss. You found yourself feeling a little guilty, this was only supposed to amplify the pettiness between you and Soonyoung, you didn’t want them blowing up at each other over it. Jihoon hadn't actually done anything wrong.

Sighing you rose to your feet. “Soonyoung can I talk to you for a moment?” He glanced up at you and immediately his face shifted, menacing glare gone, he gave you an impossibly cute smile and stood following you out to a walkway that seemed not to have as many people milling about.

“Don’t be mad at Jihoon. You look ready to kill him. It was my idea to use him to get under your skin.” You offered, and his face grew pensive.

“Yeah I know that. You’re doing a bad job of fake flirting with him. That giggle you did earlier, your voice never gets that high pitched even when you do find something funny.” Soonyoung responded in irritation. “But his responses on the other hand —- he was totally into it. Which is messed up because he knows how I feel about you.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “Wait why do you know so much about my laugh? What do you mean he was into it? How do you feel about me?” The questions came one after another because these were all new revelations to you.

“Obviously I pay attention to you. I know Jihoon, we’ve been friends since we were kids. He wouldn’t do what he’s doing without intention. And I already told you that I want to be inside you every single night forever what is so hard to understand about that?” Soonyoung responded nearly in irritation.

“I—this is a game Soonyoung. A stupid one really. Let’s call a truce. This whole entire thing has gotten out of hand. Maybe we don’t have to dislike each other. We can actually try and be friends for once. But I don’t want you mad at Jihoon and I definitely don’t want the implications of what sleeping with you would do to my sanity.” You respond earnestly because other people getting in the middle of it was never the plan.

“I told you before. I’m not playing a game.” Soonyoung took a step closer to you and you took a step back until you hit the wall. His knee pushed between your legs until he could get as close to you as possible. His chest pressed into you, his groin against your thigh growing harder as he leaned down, his mouth capturing yours. And oh did you fold, you didn’t even try to resist. It felt impossible as his tongue pushed into your mouth. It felt impossible as his teeth nipped and sucked against your bottom lip. It felt impossible as a hand roamed across your chest, brushing against your left nipple until it pebbled under a gentle thumb. He coaxes your lips open, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth as he sucks all the breath from your body. A kiss from someone you hate shouldn’t feel this good.

His lips dust over the shell of your ear, and you shiver. And when his hand slides over the curve of your hip and between your thighs, you whimper. Your body’s torn between fear and anticipation of the pleasure he can bring you but at what cost? Your hands go up pressing against his chest to stop him. He pulls back staring at you with hungry eyes.

“What are we doing?” You whisper shout at him.

“Personally I’m trying not to cum in my pants right now while still maintaining an air of sexiness and attraction. You?” Soonyoung replied.

“I’m — I don’t know. This is the weirdest thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” You offer because he was literally just playing with your nipple. No reason to stand on pride at this point.

“Hypothetically if I knew somehow that you didn’t exactly hate me as much as you say, would you go on a date with me? So that at least this part of it makes more sense?” He asked, two fingers dancing between the two of you.

“Hypothetically? I guess that would be okay. The date I mean.” And Soonyoung grins.

“Tomorrow night. Like six or seven?” You stare at him bewildered because what else can you even say at this point?

“Sure fine, seven.” Soonyoung grins even wider, pulls you into a hug, spins you around and smacks your ass and then takes off screaming back towards your seats that you’re going on a date. Great the entire campus can probably hear him. You don’t even go back inside. That’s enough of tonight for you. That’s definitely enough Soonyoung. The moment you’re back inside your dorm your head rest against the door. Why? Why would you do this to yourself?

“So it isn’t a joke? You’re really doing this?” Vernon asked. He’d been away helping his family the past few weeks after classes and hadn’t been on campus to see whatever was happening between you and Soonyoung unfold, apparently Minghao couldn't resist keeping him in the loop though.

“Apparently. Why are you here again?” You asked rummaging through your closet for something to wear.

“When Hao told me what happened I thought he was bullshitting me. I needed to hear it from the source. I talked to Soonyoung first. This is crazy, you hate Soonyoung.” Vernon said, all teeth and gums as he laughed.

“I don’t hate him! We’ve had our differences but we’re working on them now.” You replied defensively.

“Remember when you lined his boxers with chili paste? Or that time you were on a date with that one guy and he ruined it by asking about your fungus thing you had last semester? Or last year when we had the pool party at my house and he untied your top in front of everyone and Mingyu got like en entire eyeful? Or when you shaved the side of his head while he slept with Seungkwan and he went to his dance competition like that? You guys hate each other. Did you lose a bet? Is he holding your family hostage?”

You frowned. In the the weird vortex you’d been sharing with Soonyoung for a few weeks now, none of those old things had come to mind. You’d been way too busy plotting on how to win this made up game between the two of you. But you’d forgotten how often you messed with each other and now you were suddenly contemplating if this was a good idea. You stopped what you were doing and came to sit on your bed next to Vernon.

“I forgot about that stuff. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is a bad idea. There's clearly been too much damage done. Mingyu still can't look me in the eye.”

Vernon’s eyes went wide. “What? No, don’t change your mind! We’re just all shocked at this turn of events, well most of us. Cheol and Jeonghan said this has clearly been sexual tension the whole time but they like to pretend to be right about everything. You can’t not go. He’ll legitimately kill me if he finds out I changed your mind somehow. That wasn't even the point, it's just so unreal.”

“But this is silly. It all stemmed from this crazy idea he got in his head that I want to sleep with him and it just kept going and going. I still don’t know how he found that out. I’ve never told anyone ever that I think he’d be good in bed. But he’s a dancer it’s kind of a given y’know?” You mused aloud to Vernon who had grown super quiet. “What?”

Vernon looked conflicted, and he began to tug on his ear as he processed how he would reply. “I’m going to tell you something that sounds really, really insane. But I swear I’m not saying it without reason. Do you remember last year when Seok went missing for like two weeks and we were all super worried and freaked out?”

You nodded. His girlfriend was hysterical and spent many a night crying on your shoulder. Everyone had been shocked and terrified thinking he died or was hurt or something. What made it even weirder was that his parents had gone missing too. It had been a rough seventeen days for all involved. Seokmin had spent the last year making it up to everyone but he still wouldn’t tell you what happened. But it seemed as if Vernon knew something.

“So okay look it’s like this. The reason our friend group is so tight is because we discovered kind of early on we were all different. In a weird way. We’ve all got these abilities I guess. Y’know like X-Men and shit. So like Seok can travel to different universes. Kwan has like empathy or whatever it’s why emotions get so high in him and everyone around him. I think Chan’s is running fast or something. Mine is time travel, which I can show you but you won’t remember us having this conversation it’ll just feel like déjà vu.”

You gave Vernon a hard long stare. You had no idea what you were expecting him to say but it wasn’t anything like that. “What the fuck? Are you high?”

Vernon rolled his eyes. “Look just hear me out. Soonyoung can read your mind. You didn’t have to tell anyone about thinking he’s fuckable or whatever. He found out by invading your privacy. Probably not on purpose, he goes out of his way not to actively use it but sometimes, if someone is thinking about him hard enough he can hear it anyway. I know that sounds insane but tonight start off by thinking the worst stuff you can about him. Watch how he reacts, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

After that, completely convinced he was messing with you, you put Vernon out of your room and began the process of getting ready. Soonyoung said you’d just have dinner and go on a walk or something. Nothing too serious, so you tried to keep things simple. Still despite it all coming off as a bad prank, Vernon’s words echoed in your mind. Thinking something bad about Soonyoung wouldn’t hurt anyone, you never had to admit to trying it either. If it was a prank it wasn’t one they thought out very well. You’d be more than happy to throw that in their faces later.

At exactly seven Soonyoung was at your door. He cleaned up well, and smelled amazing. Enough that you considered abandoning the date for a moment and getting back to what he really wanted. But, almost as if he could read your mind, Soonyoung had other plans.

“I know it would be super easy to just throw our clothes off and be all over each other, but I want to actually take you out on a proper date. I don’t want you to think this is just a sexual thing.” Soonyoung said before you even got a “hi” out to him. Your eyes narrowed in brief suspicion but you figured he probably saw the desire all over your face. You didn’t exactly hide it in the moment. Maybe that's how he was able to figure this whole thing out.

“Well that’s what I was expecting. Who said anything about taking our clothes off?” You asked in mild annoyance, and locked your door behind you.

Soonyoung didn’t reply, he looked at you curiously but didn’t try to prove a point. Which was for the better because your mind was already drifting to Vernon’s words. So of course you began to think of some of the more disheartening things you’d thought about Soonyoung over the years. None of which were exactly nice, that mostly had been thought of in irritation and malice to make you feel better about something rude he’d done.

The shift was subtle and had you not been looking for it you wouldn’t have noticed it. But the date started off fine. He held doors, made small talk, laughed at your jokes and made some funny ones of his own. After he paid for dinner though you found silence stretching across the table between you. He didn’t look happy, he kept shifting and glancing at you and then looking away when you caught him.

“Something on your mind?” You asked in disbelief, because his mood had changed. Just like Vernon said it would.

“Did I do something between the game and tonight? I mean — I thought maybe we were turning over a new leaf but you don’t seem…you seem to feel about me the way you always have like maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Did you not like the date or…?” Soonyoung said quietly and your heart began beating wildly in your chest.

“What makes you say that? Have I been acting different or something?” You asked.

“No, I mean I guess that’s the thing. You seem into it, but then you sort of don’t. I can’t explain it.” He said solemnly, and then he offered you a tired smile. “Whatever I’m just thinking too hard. We got what we needed out of this date right? We don’t have to take things any further but I would like to try being friends. Think I’m getting too old to be fighting with you constantly., Jihoon said it's why I keep finding random grey pubic hairs.”

You were on your feet immediately, pointing an accusatory finger at Soonyoung. “Oh my fucking God. Vernon was telling the truth. You read my mind!” You accused rather loudly, enough for a few heads in the restaurant to turn and stare at you.

“What!? Noooo are you crazy? That’s impossible.” Soonyoung said trying to pull off the worst acting you’d ever seen.

“This — you — Kwon Soonyoung!” You turned storming out of the restaurant angrily. How humiliating. How long had he been able to tell what you were thinking? Shame flooded you, some of things you thought about him you couldn’t even repeat aloud to yourself. And he knew them, this entire time! That sneaky little fucker.

“Wait! Y/n please let me explain it was an accident!” Soonyoung caught up to you, hands held up in surrender as he came stumbling from the restaurant.

“How do you accidentally read minds?” You snapped at him, unable to process that you were actually asking the question.

“At the dinner for Jeonghan when you were trying to hit me over the head with the extinguisher I was scared for my life! It took Mingyu and Cheol to hold you back and everyone was pretty sure you were about to kill me. I just wanted to know your intent because there was such hatred coming off of you, and so when I took a teeny tiny baby peek even though you were physically trying to assault me your mind was…you were thinking about how cute I was when I was scared. And that was weird….I didn’t know what to make of it. So as time went on I started paying more attention to your stronger thoughts, not invading your mind, but the ones that leak out because they’re so intense. All the thoughts you had about me weren’t violent or even that angry. You were definitely annoyed a lot but Jihoon has that reaction all the time too. I was just surprised because most of the thoughts were kinda hot.” He finished, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“How long?” You demanded stepping closer to him.

“Huh?”

“How long have you been doing this?” You clarified and he looked sheepish.

“Since last year. I never stopped after the dinner. I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you about it or ask you out but everytime we got within six feet of each other we bickered and I’d forget. It wasn’t until we were at Seok’s party and I was drunk and just kept saying what was on my mind. And then you kissed me and you liked the kiss and —“

Your face fell into your hands. “Oh my God that’s why you knew what I thought about the kiss and why you said it back to me. It’s why I could never catch you off guard with the flirting. It’s how you knew I was faking it with Jihoon! This is — fuck you Soonyoung! This was a game that would literally be impossible for me to win, because you have telepathy!” You let out a hysterical laugh.

Soonyoung looked at a loss for words. “Why do you keep saying that? It was never a game for me. For two years I’ve been trying to work up the courage to say something. When I did I was drunk and it was the wildest thing I’ve ever said but it got a reaction out of you. And I wanted that so I just kept going because we would be amazing together if we stopped fighting for once.”

You stared at him. You had no idea what to make of things now, it all seemed too much. Learning telepathy was real was already a huge ask, learning that all this time Soonyoung’s feelings had been genuine and you were too annoyed with him to see that kind of overtook the telepathy thing.

“So—what now?” You asked because you genuinely had no clue what to do or say next. Your mind was a mess, you were in shock definitely and couldn’t form coherent thought.

“You win.” Soonyoung said, taking your hand in his. “I’m the prize. Let’s go.”

Soonyoung is in the living room in just his tight briefs. Your eyes are drawn like a magnet to the outline of his cock. He’s fresh out of the shower ( he got really nervous and sweaty on the drive home ) and you’ve relaxed some from earlier with two drinks and a lot of conversation about telepathy. You’re hovering in the kitchen nursing a glass of water wondering why in the world you agreed to come back to his place with him.

“You enjoying yourself?” He asks as he catches you staring.

He crosses the room and stands right in front of you. A solid wall of muscle and sex. It’s as though he has some kind of magnetic field around him. His presence is inescapable. Once you’re in his orbit, you can’t seem to think straight. You act like somebody you don’t even recognize. Your pussy develops a mind of it’s own. He is so full of potent, raw sexuality and energy. Everything about him screams run away, but your body is drawn to him anyway.

“Who am I kidding,” he says, his voice low and deep, as he bends his head and brings his mouth closer to your ear. “I stare at you no matter what you’re wearing. So I’m no better.”

“Stop,” You whisper. You can’t do this. You cannot let this man get a hold on you, because you know he was right earlier. You would be so good together. For whatever reason, you have insane chemistry, and you can’t let him take this any further. You can’t allow yourself to have any feelings for him. That would compromise every rule you made for yourself when it came to Soonyoung.

 “I can’t stop,” he says, his voice dropping another octave. He places a hand on your hip, and your skin blooms with heat. “Believe me, I’ve tried. I need to fuck you more than I have ever needed anything in my life.”

“We can’t,” You protest, but your voice is so quiet it’s barely audible.

“We can.” His other hand is on your other hip now, and he pulls you closer to him until your bodies are almost touching. “Look at me,” he commands.

And you do it. Just like that, because he told you to. Because your body obeys him and you don’t even know when that started to happen. You blink as you stare up at him. His pupils are so wide, they make his brown eyes appear black. They are full of longing and fire and need.

“It wouldn’t work. It would be a huge mistake,” You offer feebly.

He shakes his head. “No, it wouldn’t, and you know it. Let me take you to my bed and I’ll show you exactly how much of a mistake it wouldn’t be.”

You open your mouth but no words come out. All you can focus on are his strong fingers flexing on your hips. How good they felt last night when he touched you at the baseball game. How much you wanted him to carry on before you stopped him. Your core contracts, flooding your pussy with heat and making you suck in a stuttered breath.

Soonyoung narrows his eyes at you. "I’ll make you a deal.”

“What deal?” You breathe out the words.

“Look at the clock on the wall behind me, and if I can’t make you come in two minutes, then you can go to your dorm. But if I do make you come, then you spend the night with me. What do you say?” His voice has taken on that trademark competitive edge. He’s all cockiness now. Typical Soonyoung.

You lick your lips, staring at him. You’re already wet. But under two minutes? There’s no way he could pull that off. You’ve never had anyone make you come that easily. Not even guys you were really into. And you don’t even like Soonyoung, so you can hold out, right? Besides, every cell in your body is vibrating with sexual energy. You want his hands on you. You want his fingers inside you. Just this once. Just to relieve this constant aching need in your pussy. Just once. “Okay, but when you don’t get the job done in two minutes, you don’t get to leave me hanging,” You say with a tilt of your head.

He smirks, full of confidence and arrogance. “I’ll make you come no matter how long it takes. I promise.”

“Okay,” You whisper. What the hell are you doing?

“Eyes on the clock then,” he orders. “And be honest about the time.”

“Of course,” You insist, your eyes now trained on the clock behind him, watching the second hand tick around.

“Then start timing me,” he growls. It takes him exactly two seconds to get his hand inside your panties. You place your hands on the counter on either side of you to keep yourself steady as he slides his fingers through your folds. “So wet already,” he says with a wicked grin. “

“You have one minute and fifty seconds,” You tell him as the clock goes on ticking.

“Plenty of time,” he growls as he starts to rub the pads of his middle and pointer fingers over and around your swollen clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Pleasure skitters around your body. He presses his lips against your ear. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathe, your knuckles turning white as your grip on the counter gets firmer. He’s still not going to do this in under two minutes though. But then he starts kissing your neck. Trailing his lips and teeth over your sensitive skin as he dips his hand further into your panties, pulling them down as he works his entire hand between your thighs and forces you to spread your legs wider apart. One minute, thirty-two seconds left.

“You like this more though, right?” Soonyoung whispers as he slides a finger inside you. He eases it in and out of you, and you bite your lip to stop from screaming his name and begging him for more. You’re not giving him any pointers. One minute, nine seconds. Clearly though, he doesn’t need any help. A few seconds later, he adds a second finger and your pussy coats him with slick heat and practically purrs his name.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasps out clearly enjoying this just as much as you are. He drives deeper until he hits your G-spot and starts to massage it with his skilled fingers. Holy mother of fucking God. Fifty-two seconds. You wonder briefly if he can hear your thoughts.

“I can.” He responds with a dark laugh. “I like it. Keep going.”

“Ok,” You  moan as you wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him while he finger fucks you like he has a telepathic connection to your pussy too. Like he just unlocked expert level and completely bypassed all the others. His lips dust over the shell of your ear.

 “Your cunt loves my fingers. Wait until it feels my cock.”

“Soonyoung,” You groan as the familiar wave of an impending orgasm starts rolling through your core. Your thighs are trembling.

“Keep your eyes on the clock,” he pants as you bury your face against him.

“Yeah, clock,” You gasp as your head goes on spinning and your body starts to vibrate with its impending release. You look over his shoulder. Twenty five seconds. He’s not going to do it. He drives his fingers harder and deeper while he starts grinding the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit. Twenty-two seconds.

“So wet. You hear that?” he questions. And you do. You hear the sound of your arousal dripping over his fingers as he works them in and out of you. Damn, he’s going to do it. Fifteen seconds.

“You’re going to come like my good little kitten so I can bury my cock inside you, too, aren’t you?”

“Fucking hell Soonyoung,” You cry out his name as your orgasm crashes into your body. He wraps one strong arm around your waist, holding you tight while he continues gently massaging your pussy as your body bucks and shudders. Your eyes roll in your head as you struggle to focus on his face. He’s staring at you. His eyes blaze with fire. But then he lets you go and walks to the other side of the room. The loss of heat makes you shiver in the cool room as you come down from the most intense orgasm you think you’ve ever had in my life. He opens a cupboard and pulls out something before walking back to you. It’s only when he’s standing right in front of you again that you see what he’s holding. A condom.

“Take off your pants,” he orders before he tears into the packet with his teeth.

 “I thought we were going to your room?” You whisper, surprised by how much the thought of him taking you to bed and continuing what he’s just started makes your entire body buzz with  excitement. He’s looking down, rolling the condom onto his cock. He looks up at you again to answer your question, his dark eyes locking on yours.

 “Oh, we are, but I need to fuck you right now, so take off the goddamn pants.”

 You swallow a thick knot of anxiety that feels lodged in your throat, but you start to slide both your jeans and panties down your thighs. What if somebody comes in here?

“Jihoon’s at a gig until late, he already told me. No one else is coming over they know we’re on a date,” he says, because that’s right he can read your freaking mind.

He wraps you in his arms and lifts you onto the lowest counter. “So this will work just fine,” he groans as he positions himself between your thighs. He mumbles something as he presses his huge cock against your opening. Your thighs are trembling.  “I’ll take this first go easy. Wouldn’t want your instinct to hit me to kick in.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he edges the tip of his length inside you, stretching you wide. It burns, but it feels so damn good too. You wrap your arms and legs around him, burying your face against his neck as he eases in deeper. “You’re so fucking tight,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

Then he takes hold of your legs and unwraps them from around his waist. “I need you to let me in, kitten,” he groans, full of frustration and impatience. He hooks his forearms under your knees, pulling your hips toward him and spreading your thighs wide open. Your heart starts beating wildly as he looks at you. So exposed and open and vulnerable, in a way you’ve never wanted to be. At least not in his presence. But the Soonyoung who might use this against you, see it as an opening to get the upper hand is gone.

“Fuck Y/n. Your cunt looks so good being stretched by my cock,” he groans, and you reward him with a moan as your pussy squeezes around him. “Just keep holding on to me,” he growls as he slides a little deeper, and wet heat floods your pussy. You cling to his neck, dragging your lips over his skin as his muscles vibrate with the effort of holding himself back. You can feel the raw power in every muscle of his body, and the fact that he’s trying to be gentle makes your heart ache. This is torture. The slow burning stretch of being filled by him is turning your brain to liquid, not to mention every other organ in your body. It hurts, but it’s not enough. You need all of him.

Suddenly, you’re overcome by a desperate need to be filled by him. A burning desire to have him deep inside you, until there is no space left between you both. Your pussy throbs with a deep, carnal longing for his cock. Dusting your lips over the skin of his neck, you smile as it elicits a deep growl in his throat. “I want more,” You whisper.

“More?”

“For the love of God, Soonyoung. Just fuck me,” You plead, surprised at your own words because you have never, ever, begged to be fucked before. And certainly not by a man as infuriating and hateful as this one. He curses as he drives all the way inside you. You press your mouth against his skin, muffling your cries of pleasure tinged with pain as he fills you. You try to squeeze your thighs, but he holds you open as he slides out before driving back inside. Warmth floods your core. Each time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your pussy rewards him with more slick heat.

 “Oh fuck,” You whimper in his ear as he groans in yours.

“You feel so fucking good. Being inside you… I knew it would…” He thrusts harder, and you always pass out as the crown of his cock rubs against something inside you that makes you scream in pleasure whilst also wanting to declare your undying devotion to him. Apparently love and hate really are two sides of the same coin. As the last tremors of your second orgasm pulse through you, Soonyoung whispers how pretty you are as he grinds out his own release. When he pulls out of you a few seconds later, the wet sound that echoes around the small room makes your cheeks burn with heat. He pulls the condom off and tosses it into the trash can. You lean against the counter with your legs wobbling like Jell-O and wondering what happens now. This is  unfamiliar territory for you.

But then he grabs hold of your hand and pulls you with him as he starts walking down the hall.

 “Where are we going?”

“My room, kitten,” he says with a wink. “I am nowhere near done with you.”

Despite what you just did in the kitchen, you feel nervous and kind of awkward as you stand in Soonyoung’s bedroom, next to his bed with questionable tiger striped sheets. He stalks toward you, and it makes a shiver run the length of your spine. You are so out of your depth here you just might drown. He runs his fingertips over your cheek. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks in a soft, gentle tone.

“This isn’t… I don’t usually do this kind of thing,” You say, old irritation flaring.

“Have sex?” he asks with a flicker of amusement.

“With people who I don’t even like, yes,” You snap. If he’s trying to mess with you, then he can go to hell.

“There’s my feisty little kitten.” He slides his hands over your hips and onto your ass, pulling you close to him so that you can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach. “But you have nothing to be nervous about. You already know how hard you make me and how much I want to fuck you.” He reaches for the edge of your shirt and starts to peel it off you, and you lift your arms to help him. And now you're standing in front of him completely naked. His hands coast over your back, running over every inch of skin. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as he trails soft kisses over your neck. “I want to see every part of you. I want to taste you.” He pushes you back against the bed until you're lying on it. His hands slide up your thighs as he spreads them wide open until you're completely exposed to him. The look in his eyes makes your thighs tremble, and before you can stop him, his head is between your thighs and his mouth is on your clit.

He presses the flat of his tongue against you. He licks the length of your wet slit and damn near makes your eyes roll back in your head. “Fucking heaven, going to enjoy eating you out,” he murmurs before he sucks your clit into his hot mouth and swirls his tongue over the sensitive bud of flesh.

“Holy fuck,” You hiss as your toes curl and your thighs tremble.

He is so good at that. How much practice has he had? Suddenly, you don’t care. Heat and pleasure builds in your core and rolls through your thighs while he feasts on your pussy with more skill than any man his age should have all to himself. When he slips two fingers into you and starts to fuck you while he eats, you enter a whole new realm of pleasure. In fact, you think you might just have drifted onto another plane of existence. And when you look at his face, he catches your eye and winks, and you almost pass out.

He didn’t lie about enjoying this, he’s getting as much out of it as you are. You press your head back against the pillow, silencing your constant internal chatter and focusing on his magical fingers and tongue and the pleasure they are currently wringing from your body. And when you come with a breathy cry of his name, he doesn’t stop. Not even when you pull his hair and tell him you've had enough.

“I haven’t,” he purrs, wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs to hold you close to his face as you squirm. “Give me one more and then I can fuck you as hard as I want to.”

A wave of pleasure rolls over you, knocking the breath from your lungs and rendering you speechless. You're so lost in the bliss that you almost don't hear him utter the question, "What's your name?"

"What?" You murmur in confusion chasing the pleasure shooting through you,

"Name?" He ask again, his mouth vibrating against your clit.

"Soonyoung," You answer through a moan and he laughs.

"That's my name. I want to know your name." He says and you don't answer, you can't. It feels too good, your release is too close.  And only when he has wrung another mind-altering orgasm from your body does he stop. Pushing himself up and rolling on a condom, he plows into you, burying his face in your neck as he nails you to his mattress. And all you can do is cling on, with your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he fucks you better than you had ever even dreamed was possible.

Afterwards you and Soonyoung lie in bed facing each other, which feels strangely personal even after what you've just done. There's the sound of a door opening and closing indicating Jihoon must be home. You have no idea how you're going to explain this, Soonyoung didn't even close his door when he dragged you in here. So now you're both exposed wrapped in his horrible bed sheets waiting for Jihoon to pass by.

"Hey remember when I told you at Seok's party I'd make you cum so hard you'd forget your own name?" Your face floods with heat, embarrassment creeping along your spine. Soonyoung just grins.

"I win."

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[pigeonpeach]

Genshin men as cats!

Prompt: the genshin men are temporarily turned into cats for one day and you as their lover must take care of them and make sure they stay safe

A/n: idk what happened but apparently half of the post got deleted? I’ll have to rewrite it later ;(

Ayato

Oh he’s not happy. He’s probably a shorthaired white cat in terms of appearance. But he is quite annoyed with this predicament. No one is allowed to tell anyone that the Yashiro Commissioner is suddenly a cat. But being a cat is nice. He can lounge and nap all day. He’s probably demanding of attention though. He simply must have your eyes on him. He adores being brushes so lovingly too. Maybe he should have you brush his hair when he’s back to normal.

Al Haitham

Virtually no change. He may still try to read though he won’t be able to turn the pages as easily. He doesn’t mind a few pats but he mostly prefers to be left alone in the nice warm sun to nap the day away. He’s definitely a grey tabby.

Kaveh

He is so distraught! He meows a storm in fustration as he finds he is completely incapable of finishing his projects! You simply must take care of him! You need to have him strapped in like a baby carrier on your chest because he’s just so clingy. He needs constant reassurance and attention. He’s so needy but so cute. Probably a cute little cream colored kitty.

Kaeya

He is also probably a bit annoyed. While yes he gets a complete day off, he can’t do much as a cat. So he’ll probably try to find some entertainment if you don’t keep him thoroughly entertained. He will find a way to sneak out and go play with Klee or annoy Diluc if you don’t keep him in your grasp at all times.

Neuvillette

He is very confused but also curious. On one hand this form is verrrry different than he’s ever had before but its also very beneficial to him. People are far less intimidated and strangely he enjoys being coddled and pet more than he would. Of course miss Furina is teasing the crap out of him but he doesn’t really care. Sitting on your lap, small and warm. Its such a unique experience he will probably never have again.

Wriothesley

Once the dust settles he’s quite relaxed. This is temporary so might as well enjoy it. Sigewinnie has become very attached to him as she constantly makes sure he’s okay. But in particular he loves being held by you. He’s used to being the big strong man who lifts you all the time etc etc. its nice actually being the reverse here. He gets fed special fish from the cafeteria and gets to spend his day in your arms! The perfect break for him! He’s almost sad it’s temporary but he knows he can’t stay like this forever.

Childe

Oh he’s mad! Even when it’s confirmed to be temporary, he is annoyed! How can he improve his fighting skills if he’s a kitty! Sure he’s a adorable little kitty of course but he looks like a baby! Oh his ego is in shatters. It’s unfortunate too because it wasn’t even around his family so he could play with his little brother at least. He’s practically quarantined to keep him safe. He can’t go on kitty adventures. Therefore YOU must make it up to him. He spends his time sulking and trying to play with anything he can. Dangling uniform piece? New toy! Someone’s foot? New toy! He bites! He meows! He hardly naps. He does love cuddling with you though. Still he’s a ball of energy and he cannot simply sit still for long! No doubt will his office be trashed. You’re making him clean it up once he’s back.

Thoma

Stressed! So stressed! He has so many chores! He cannot hold a broom with two paws! You have to make arrangements for him to have the day off which was hard because everyone was upset by his sudden cancellation. Even so he tries to help. He tries to drag the broom but it doesn’t do anything unfortunately. Oh he feels so useless. You must pamper him. Lavish him with kisses and gentle praise. Call him the cutest little kitty in the world! Oh he’s such a affectionate boy too. He acts like a cat with separation anxiety almost. He cannot sleep if you’re not there with him. Therefore you end up spending the day with him, trying to dissuade him from trying to clean a mess and just making it worse, distracting him with a warm blanket and pets.

Zhongli

He probably did so on purpose actually. Perhaps he was a bit bored and decided to spend the day exploring Liyue from a different perspective. It was quite fun for him actually. He watched as people came over to pet him. Unfortunately they also tried to feed him seafood which wasn’t too good. But after the long day he returned home to see you panicked as to where he could be. He decided to come on over to you, still in his cat form, and distract you. It worked as he helped you relax.

You werent too amused when you found out that cat that broke in was him.

Pantalone

He is quite annoyed. Angry in a more agitated way. Don’t mess up his fur! Pet him properly! Don’t ignore him now! He is a demanding little feline. He is not content unless you are entirely focused on him. He even wants you to break up the fish ro serve to him. He isn’t going to eat like a animal! Oh but he is such s cute kitty. Entirely black with big expressive yellow eyes. Oh you can’t help but comply and spoil him a little more! And he has such lovely fur! He does like hearing your gentle praises as you pet him. He never knew how lovely it felt to be small, sleeping on a nice warm lap, being gently brushed, and told sweet little compliments. He may actually want to do this again sometime.

Diluc

Biggest drama king! How can he protect you or Mondstadt like this! Therefore you cannot leave his sight or he’s convinced you will immediately die. You must stay with him so he can protect you? He is a very warm kitty though so it feels nice to snuggle with him. His fur is a bit messy so you’ll have to brush it. Despite him trying to stay vigilant he ends up falling asleep quickly.

[vivalabunbun]

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.