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rowarn · 9 months

Text

MONSTER (m.)

neighbor!simon riley x reader

tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it

note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!

; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.

16.5k

“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.”

That was the first news broadcast. They reported people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people.

So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get.

It was only a week later that the whole story had come out.

The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh.

The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were.

You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling.

Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night.

You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe.

You wanted it all to be over.

Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark.

You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.

You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in.

The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.

With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.

“Simon…” you whispered in relief.

He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal.

“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.

“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”

His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”

You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”

His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”

You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”

He hums, “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”

Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”

“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”

You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.

He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.

Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend.

“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.

He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”

“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”

It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now.

“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”

“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”

“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”

“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”

He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”

“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness.

“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”

The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”

“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”

He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”

“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”

He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”

“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”

“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”

You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.

Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door.

He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.

Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades.

You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”

“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”

He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well.

It suited him, you thought.

There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up.

Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well.

Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then.

When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.

“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.

“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”

You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”

“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.

“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there.

You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt.

You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”

“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.

“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets.

“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”

“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.

“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”

“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face.

He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”

You chuckle softly at his words.

This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died.

That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that.

“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”

When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.

“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug.

“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.

He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you. “I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”

He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands.

“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”

“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it.

“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.

“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.

“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol.

Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.

“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.

“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.

Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”

“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”

“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.

A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”

“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.

Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”

Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.

You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content.

By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades.

In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.

By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day.

It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.

When you woke up, you were in bed.

And Simon wasn’t in the apartment.

“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail.

You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end.

“Simon!” you called, making him look up.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator.

“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”

“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort.

“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.

He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well.

“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.

“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors.

It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly.

“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.

“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway

He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”

You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls.

“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”

“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.

You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it.

You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.

The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long.

You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed.

Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns.

“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”

“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.

“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”

“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”

“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”

“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”

“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it.

You nod your head, “Got it.”

“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”

You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”

You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.

“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.

You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.

“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.

His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.

You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it.

Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you.

If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease.

This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush.

A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.

Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.

“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened.

“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”

He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you.

You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all.

“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.

“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”

You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment.

The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.

It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own.

Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom.

The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them.

It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.

“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.

“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.

But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.

“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.

You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”

“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”

“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”

“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”

The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”

He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid.

Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall.

“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”

He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.

Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there.

You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.

You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.

He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?

You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.

The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now.

You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere.

You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment.

You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway.

It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness.

“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.

The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.

All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh.

It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.

You have no way to get out of this.

As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.

Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.

“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”

You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed.

You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you.

He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned. Scared.

“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”

He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”

“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”

You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”

You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”

“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor.

You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.

“Go take a shower,” he orders you.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart.

The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more.

“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”

“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.

“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”

“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”

“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”

The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.

“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber.

Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor.

“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.

You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant.

It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you.

“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.

“Escaping,” he responds.

“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly.

His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”

He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit.

“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”

“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.

You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately.

The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan.

“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt.

You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.

“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military.

You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move.

You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him.

“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”

You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success.

But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.

“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”

“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”

You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down.

“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”

By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin.

Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded.

Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door.

You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up.

When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat.

Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food.

Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes.

The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.

“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”

“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”

“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat.

He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body.

He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart.

“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds.

“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”

You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again.

“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”

“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.

“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come.

“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate.

It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.

“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”

You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear.

He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.

“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”

Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping.

You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”

But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease.

He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him.

“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”

That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.

You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries.

He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks.

“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days.

“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.

You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he��s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving.

The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself.

You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.

“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”

You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open.

When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty.

You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you.

You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind.

Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier.

He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move.

You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.

“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle.

You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”

His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”

“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”

“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.

“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”

“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”

“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”

“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.

“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”

You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”

You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”

“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.

“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”

“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”

He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off.

You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.

“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”

“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”

“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved.

“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”

“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”

“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.

“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”

He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss.

His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss.

He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.

His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on.

Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth.

He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet.

You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.

You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”

“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.

“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties.

“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple.

His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts.

“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.

He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile.

But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.

He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.

“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.

“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”

He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling.

With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.

“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips.

“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”

You whimper at that, “B-Both!”

He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”

You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed.

He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed.

He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin.

Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.

It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind.

He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring.

The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure.

When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out.

“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”

You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds.

His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you.

Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates.

When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.

Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.

There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters.

Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.

“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.

“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt.

That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds.

When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display.

You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know.

He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly.

His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.

He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched.

Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”

He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you.

He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more.

He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.

He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains.

To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble.

“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair.

He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit.

It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high.

You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt.

“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind.

You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him.

He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin.

“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.

“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking.

“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.

“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”

With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.

He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before.

He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are.

Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.

Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you.

You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips.

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.

Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart.

He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.

He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.

Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can.

You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it.

“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”

He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep.

But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high.

Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you.

You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep.

Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him.

It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”

He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”

That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon.

You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.

He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.

Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.

You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside.

With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them.

His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy.

“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”

Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him.

Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name.

Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him.

His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.

Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt.

“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”

“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”

You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later.

You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.

“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.

Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high.

He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation.

After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.

You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically.

You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests.

“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.

He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed.

You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom.

Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.

He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.

“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.

“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”

He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”

“You guess?” you chuckle.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”

“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”

“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease.

“Do you know where they are?” you ask.

It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”

“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically.

Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against.

“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”

He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.

It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.

“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.

“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”

“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart.

He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you.

“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”

“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.

“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”

You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”

His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod your head, “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”

He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch.

Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder.

“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.

“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.

“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”

You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes.

You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through.

He turns to look at you when he hears you approach.

“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”

You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks.

Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door.

The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.

“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs.

“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.

Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”

You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again.

Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.

“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.

“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him.

When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity.

Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

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wonustars · 3 months

Text

𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ?

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 26.3k (im sorry) 𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+)

𖦹 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, stoner!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, forced proximity, joshua likes to try and keep jeonghan humble, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse and also a complete asshole in the beginning, joshua is a wise man when he gets high, there is lots of figting (like a lot), alludes to reader coming from wealth but not formally mentioned.

𖦹 note: THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR PATIENCE.. i'm sorry it took so long T-T fjhkajfhakf. I would like to thank my two beta-readers @gyuswhore and @drunk-on-dk. ILY GUYS THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR HELP, this fic really wouldn't be what it is now if it weren't for them. also tagging @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu and @highvern, cam was the one who gave me the idea for stoner!jh so everyone thank her hehe, they had to listen to me complain about this fic multiple times on discord... (ily all) 😢 i love this story a lot and i hope you will all enjoy it 🤗!! - anna ♡ p.s. 🇵🇭 anon if u see this... huwag mo susugurin yung bahay ko, ito na po hehehe 😁!

smut tags/warnings under the cut!

𖦹 smut tags: dom!jh, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, oral (f and m receiving), breast play, mutually intoxicated sex (weed), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, corruption kink, shotgunning, multiple smut scenes (3), jeonghan's a munch, petnames (for reader: baby, angel, sweetheart, princess/for jeonghan: hannie).

𖦹 warnings: mentions of neglectful parents, family trauma, verbal abuse is mentioned but nothing too bad, unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol, panic attacks, drug use (just weed, nothing crazy), if i miss any warnings or smut tags please let me know!

Prologue.

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do. Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he spits at you, eyes cold as ice.

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad. You haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few minutes ago you were ready to start fresh, beginning a new semester at the university you transferred to from your hometown.

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest.

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” he repeats himself, the fire in his eyes glinting against the light of the sun.

“I’m sorry, I tripped and—” you begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your excuses.

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me,” he seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks.

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away.

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt,” you scoff at him. Unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger.

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you stained his clothes. His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is?

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not leading anywhere.

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes; he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful?

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” he shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy.

Little did you know it wasn’t going to be your last encounter with Yoon Jeonghan.

With desperation you scour multiple sites, looking for a roommate to stay with for the time being. Your move was abrupt, and you didn’t have time before you left home to look for a place to stay. For the past week, you’ve been staying at an Airbnb, hoping you’d be able to find a place soon.

It was about one in the morning when the gods had finally decided to answer your prayers. A listing from a student attending your university was looking for a roommate to split rent with. As you read the listing, prices, and location, everything ticked all your boxes. Releasing a heavy sigh of relief, you message the person who posted the listing, asking if they were still looking for a roommate.

You: Hi, is this still available?

I’m ok with the rent prices and I can move in ASAP.

Hanniehae:

yah heres the address.

come by tmrw at 2. we can talk about the details in person.

Is it dumb of you to move into an apartment without asking any other questions? Yes, it was. But you were desperate to move out of the Airbnb you were staying in. The fees were starting to add up and you couldn’t afford to stay there anymore. Plus this is a person who’s going to the same school as you, they can’t be that bad…right?

…

It was that bad.

As soon as the door to your potential future apartment opens, you come face-to-face with the man who was yelling at you about a coffee stain just a few days ago.

His long shoulder-length blond hair is a little messy, his eyes tired, like he had just gotten out of bed. It made you scoff, it's two p.m. but he was sleeping? The other part of your brain is wondering why he looked so good when he had just rolled out of bed. You would complain or at least make a snarky comment but you’re stuck in a predicament where you needed to find a place to stay fast.

“So you’re stalking me now?” he scoffs, his eyebrows scrunching with confusion and a bit of anger.

“Stalking you? You must think you’re special.” You roll your eyes at him, a sneer already on your face. “No, dumbass. I’m here because I’m looking for an apartment.”

“I don’t think it’s very nice of you to call your future roommate a dumbass. My name is Jeonghan by the way.” Jeonghan smirks at you, the gears already turning in his head.

He didn’t realize you were the one who was inquiring about the extra room last night. This has all gotten a lot more amusing for him since you’ve already somehow found a way to get on his bad side. It’s looking like karma was on his side for today, and he couldn’t be more pleased.

“No. I must’ve gotten the wrong number.” You try to deny your fate, looking at the door to see that it is indeed the right place. You curse under your breath as you glance back and forth between the complex number and Jeonghan’s smug face.

“Well, you certainly didn’t. Here look at the texts, Y/n.” He shoves his phone in your face, and your first name flashes across the screen, proving that he was the person you were texting last night.

The back of your eyes feel as though they're burning, why am I always bumping into this asshole? You think to yourself, sighing.

“If you don’t want me to live here then fine. I’ll find somewhere else,” you bluff, your pride still standing strong even though you need a place and you need one now. Pretending like you’re about to walk away, Jeonghan grabs your arm before you can go too far.

“No. Whatever I guess, past is past. I need someone to split rent with, and you obviously need somewhere to stay so…” He shrugs as he holds onto your wrist, and you watch how his long and slender fingers wrap around it. The grip he has on you is firm but yet so delicate at the same time.

“Fine. Only because I really can’t find somewhere else, but once I do, I promise I'll be out of your hair,” you mutter, already not liking the idea of this setup.

Jeonghan grins at you, relieved. He was happy to have someone to split the rent with, but what he’s more excited about is the fact that he’ll be able to piss you off in closer proximity. You seemed easy to anger and luckily for you, it’s Jeonghan’s favourite pastime to piss people off. There’s something about the way you react when you’re annoyed that he finds so amusing, at least you won’t be boring to live with, he thinks to himself.

“You can move in today if you’d like. There’s nothing much to talk about, I've already listed everything in the posting. Don’t go in my room and I won’t go in yours. That’s all,” he says as he realizes he’s still holding onto your wrist. You become aware of it too, pulling back your hand quickly, your face reluctant but you know you can’t say no.

“Fine. I’ll be back with all my things.” You look at him up and down once again, his sleep shorts and shirt baggy on him, but somehow he pulls it off. Especially the long hair, it makes you wonder what secrets it could possibly hold.

“I don’t need help moving in by the way,” you add.

“Who said I was gonna help you?” he chuckled, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he stared at you, raising an eyebrow.

You’ve had enough of his egotistical bullshit, flashing him your middle finger as you walk towards the elevator.

II.

As you're lugging your belongings into the apartment, you watch Jeonghan leisurely manspread on the couch, watching an episode of Spongebob. You can’t help but roll your eyes as he acts so nonchalant as you heave your fifty-pound suitcase into the room. Then again, you did say you didn’t need his help, so who’s really at fault right now?

Not bringing a whole lot with you, just the essentials, you opted to purchase everything when you found a place to stay. Thankfully, you were able to find a place now rather than later, all because of Jeonghan. As much as you hate him, if it weren’t for him you’d still be paying for the overpriced Airbnb.

With a slam, you lay out your suitcase that contains practically your whole life. Conveniently enough, the place came fully furnished, so you didn’t need to buy a new bed and desk.

As you unpack, you reminisce on all the memories your items hold. You really didn’t want to leave your city but you knew it was for the best. The toxicity of living with them did impact your mental health considerably. Starting fresh in a new city, a different school; it just seemed like the best thing to do at the time. Now you just hope that in the future you will appreciate the hard decision you had to make.

…

It was around eleven p.m. by the time you stepped out of your new room, and you noticed that the devil reincarnated was long gone from his spot on the couch. It wasn’t until you got closer to the kitchen that you heard the sounds of a headboard banging against the wall, and that was all you needed to go straight back into your room.

“Jeonghan! Please…” You hear a woman’s voice moan.

Running back to your room, you shut the door quickly behind you, you're mortified, to say the least. You barely know Jeonghan, and not even twenty-four hours into moving in, he’s already having guests over? A scoff can’t help but leave your throat, at this point, you shouldn’t even be surprised, Jeonghan definitely seems like the type to fuck around, even if his roommate was home.

As quickly as possible you take out your headphones, not wanting to hear the obnoxiously loud sounds the girl in Jeonghan’s bed was making.

“It can’t be that good,” you mumble to yourself, eyebrows scrunched like you were in deep thought. He just can’t be, you add to your thoughts, not wanting to give Jeonghan credit for actually being enjoyable in bed.

With the whole world shut off, you head to the kitchen, craving a warm cup of ramen and some diet coke. The moment your electric kettle began to boil, you could feel the floorboards move under you slightly. The presence of a body behind you made you stiffen, even though you knew exactly who it was.

Not trying to give him attention, you continue to make your food, pretending you can’t hear anything but the music blaring through your headphones. That was until they were snatched off your head, the abrupt action making you jump slightly.

“What do you want?” you sigh, not even bothering to look behind you. Eyes still trained on the water that was filling your ramen cup, making sure it didn’t pass the fill line.

“I called out your name like ten million times, you didn’t answer,” Jeonghan announced, but you don’t care. If he’s going to act like he’s the only person living here, then so will you.

“Why would I?” You turn around to look at him now, his face a little too close for comfort. “I was under the impression you were busy with your visitor.”

“I was, she left. I guess you didn’t hear her.” Jeonghan shrugs, placing the headphones he stole from you onto the countertop.

Jeonghan has always been the type to get bored easily, not wanting to prolong a usual visit, it was better for him to fuck, clean up, then have them leave. No one he’s slept with has ever stayed the night and he preferred it that way. It’s better when it’s casual with no feelings involved.

In short, Jeonghan was a grade-A asshole, especially in your books. A man who doesn't care for sincerity, only convenience.

“Whatever, if you’re going to fuck a random chick while I’m here, you could at least have the decency to be a little quieter,” you grit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment and anger.

Even if you didn’t like Jeonghan, you wouldn’t have done what he did, not that you’ve ever had sex, but still.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle, the face you made when you got angry really amused him. Something about the way your cheeks would flush and your eyebrows scrunch. Pushing your buttons brought a rush in him that he just couldn't explain, he just wanted to see how far he could go to get you all worked up.

“Well, it wouldn’t have bothered you if it was you who was in my room instead.” Jeonghan hovers over you once more, the height difference settling within you once again. He lets out the most annoyingly smug chuckle, one that makes your fists ball and your cheeks turn bright red.

“Flirting with me won’t get you anywhere,” you spit at him, not wanting to play into his trap.

“I’m not flirting, sweetheart, I’m only telling you the truth,” Jeonghan says with a sing-song voice as he walks away to go back into his room.

III.

It has been a few weeks since that last incident, and although you hate how Jeonghan continues to bring people over, you’ve learned to tune it out. The situation isn’t ideal, but all you can think about is the fact that you finally have a place to stay.

Being his roommate felt like hell on Earth sometimes, the constant need to pester him about something different each day was starting to push you to your breaking point. Jeonghan was a horrible slob, only half decent enough to put away his own dishes. You tend to find his belongings all over the common area, sometimes it's a piece of clothing that couldn’t possibly belong to either of you.

A pink lace bra lying across the couch was pretty much your breaking point. You were so fed up with his constant lack of care for a common space. Thinking it was left from the night before, you decide it’s time to confront him about the boundaries he has yet to stay within.

“Jeonghan I swear to god if I find another item from one of your flings I will—” You begin to march up to his room, not even bothering to knock this time. The anger begins turning from a bubbling simmer into a full-on rolling boil.

Before you could even finish your sentence, you're met with the image of a topless girl hovering over Jeonghan, kissing him like he’s the cure for old age. They both tear apart from each other to look at you, your face resembling the scream by Edvard Munch. This is definitely one of the worst and embarrassing moments you’ve experienced in your life.

“Oh my god! Sorry! Oh my god, I didn’t know, Sorry! Sorry!” You’re rambling out of embarrassment at this point.

You hurriedly try to close the door, but before that you fling the bra into his room, flying across and hitting the back of the girl's head as she tries to cover up.

“What the fuck!” she screams, and it feels like the more you stay, the worse the situation gets.

“My bad!” you yell from the outside of his room, ready to scurry off into the only place you can stand to be in at that moment.

As you headed back to your room, you covered yourself in all your pillows and blankets, trying to recover from the embarrassment you felt. It was on you for not knocking before you came in, but you had just been so sick of Jeonghan’s habits, that you were too mad to even think twice. The regret begins to overwhelm you, and you can’t help but scream into your pillows.

“Of course, he had to just be hooking up with someone. Thank god it hadn’t gone any further.” You mumble into your pillow, trying to cover the fact that your whole face resembles a bright red tomato.

Before you could spiral any deeper into thoughts of jumping off your balcony, your door bursts open to reveal your very own personal demon, one that took form as your roommate. You don’t even turn around, your head still buried in your pillow, instead opting to flip him off for putting you through a traumatizing situation.

“So we’re into voyeurism now?” he teases you, laughing maniacally at your sulking figure.

He strides over to the right side of your bed, hovering over where you lay. Words of protest spill out your mouth as you feel him turn you over so your body is facing upwards. Cheeks still flushed from a few minutes ago, you look at him through the slits of your fingers, your palms covering the rest of your red face.

“Just leave me be. I did not mean to catch you guys in the act.” You couldn’t even make eye contact, your words muffled by your hands.

“Y/n…if you wanted to join you could’ve just asked. You know I could never say no to two of you at once,” Jeonghan snickers, his smirk permanently plastered on his face.

Angry at his vulgar statement, you fling upright, your face red with anger instead of embarrassment. As you sit up, you begin to take a better look at his frame. His shirt was nowhere to be found, his boxers peeking out of his grey sweats. You didn’t expect him to be so toned, his arms not extremely muscular, but you could tell he worked out at least a little. His height allows his abdomen to be in your line of sight with how you're sitting on your bed. The gulp leaves your throat involuntarily, betraying your facade of anger. A part of you curses him silently for being so attractive, which is something you never want to admit to him out loud.

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.” You roll your eyes, trying to keep eye contact with him, even when his abs are right in front of you.

“Next time, put a sock on your door or something. Or at least stop having your hookups leave their shit around the apartment!” An arm extending, motioning over to the living room where you had found the aforementioned bra.

“Okay, okay, fine. Jesus Y/n, you know this wouldn’t have happened if you just had knocked.” He copies your actions, rolling his eyes back at you. His nonchalant tone never leaves, even in a situation like this. It angered you how careless he is, Jeonghan never cares about anything, and every day you wonder how far he can keep this act up.

“I wouldn’t have to do all that if you two weren’t so careless!” You raise your voice at him, standing up from your bed. The anger shoots through your veins like bullets, how can he be the offended one in this situation? Jeonghan’s audacity never ceases to amaze you.

“Why do you always have a stick up your fucking ass? Do you not get laid or something?” Jeonghan’s fists ball, he’s equally pissed now, appalled at how you’re raising your voice at him right now. “I see how it is Y/n, you know, maybe if you got as much as I did, you would learn to loosen up a bit. It was one bra.”

“You’re unbelievable Yoon Jeonghan.” You scoff, offended by his words. It’s not fair that this is the conclusion, even though he’s right, you haven’t gotten laid, not for twenty-two years to be exact. “If I had known that you were this much of a terrible roommate, I wouldn��t have agreed to stay.”

“If I had known that you were such a stuck-up bitch, I wouldn’t have agreed to let you live here.” He matches your energy, turning on his heels after, not even letting you sputter out a rebuttal, the sound of the door slamming echoing throughout your room.

You stood there in shock, agitated. The silence of your room allows his words to sink into you. I’m the bitch? He’s fucking ridiculous, I wouldn’t even be acting this way if it weren’t for him. Eyebrows scrunched in frustration, you recall the argument you two had, and what frustrated you, even more, is the way conversations you have with him can turn from one to a hundred so quickly. In all honesty, it gave you whiplash dealing with him.

…

Jeonghan’s blood pressure is at an all-time high. How dare you enforce all these rules onto him, when he’s the one who agreed to let you live with him in the first place.

“Past is past, yeah fucking right,” he mutters under his breath as he sits on his bed, thinking back to the day you showed up at his doorstep.

The grudge he held for you spilling coffee on his shirt, that he could get over. But your constant need to dictate his actions? Hell no. He can’t let that slide, especially when he was living in this apartment first.

Jeonghan can’t help but run his fingers through his hair, the stress of arguing with you was catching up to him. Something about you and the way you acted towards him gets him heated so quickly. The effect you have on his mood didn’t make sense to him, especially because he considers himself to be a generally careless person.

Maybe it was your face or the way your cheeks would flush when you would raise your voice at him. Or maybe the fact that your small frame looked so harmless as you argued with him, the way your hands would ball into tiny fists. Part of him is amused at your anger, until you start to strike a nerve, that's when he begins to lose all self-control. He can’t even remember the last time he has fought with someone like this, you really just know how to rile him up.

IV.

Since that argument with Jeonghan, the two of you have learned to stay out of each other's way. It wasn’t like either of you went out of your way to talk to one another before what happened, but there was definitely a thicker layer of distaste now.

There are times when he would see you cooking in the kitchen, opting to stay in his room only after you had cleared the space of your presence. It wasn’t one-sided either, you tend to only leave your room to cook or head to class. Not bothering to even spare Jeonghan a second glance.

Not only was there less clutter in the common spaces, it wasn’t completely spotless, but at least he was trying to be more mindful. What surprised you the most was that he didn’t bring people over as often anymore, opting to go out late instead. There were mornings when you were forced to face him, passing by him as you left for class, only to realize he was coming home from being out all night.

You hear the door beep as you get ready to put on your shoes. Jeonghan’s figure is entering your peripheral vision as he steps through to the mudroom. Pretending like he isn’t there, you put on your coat and mitts, leaving the apartment to walk to your next class.

The weather had gotten considerably colder since you first moved into the apartment. Snow was starting to fall to the ground rapidly, the temperature dropping to a whopping negative 20 degrees Celsius. You were concerned, considering you walk to school, but a little snow has never stopped you. And you simply can’t afford to skip any lectures.

As you make your way to school, you admire how your new city is beginning to turn into a winter wonderland, the people around you all bundled up for the cold weather, as well as the snow that was sticking to the tree branches and bushes. Most people would curse at the weather, but you felt appreciative of all the little things, especially knowing you wouldn’t have been able to experience them in your home city.

“Well, don’t you just look like a cheerful snowman, all bundled up!” Seungkwan notes on your appearance, watching as you sit beside him for your digital marketing class.

“Good morning to you too, Kwan,” you roll your eyes at his remarks, your cheeks and nose still red from the cold.

Meeting Seungkwan this term was probably the only reason you are still in this class. Not only did he help you improve your comprehension of the class material, but he was also just a joy to be around. His spunky personality shows through even in the most unpredictable situations. Sometimes you wonder why he hasn’t thought about going into law, his urge to argue with the professor during lecture always gives you secondhand embarrassment. But at the same time, you can’t help but admire his extroverted personality.

“Any news on your roommate? I don’t even know why you continue to live with him Y/nie,” Seungkwan shakes his head.“If I were you I would’ve moved out after the first incident.”

“Well, I would, but there’s literally nowhere else to stay. So I kinda have to suck it up or I’ll be homeless,” you sigh, readying your things to head to the dining hall. The grumble in your stomach starts to grow louder with each passing minute.

Seungkwan can only sigh, pitying your situation, especially because from what you’ve told him, your roommate seems to be a total asshole.

Within a few minutes, the two of you reach the dining hall, quickly spotting two big heads arguing over the last piece of pepperoni pizza.

“Kwon Soonyoung, I swear to good if you don’t hand over the last slice.” Seokmin’s eyes set ablaze, staring at the slice that Soonyoung doesn’t seem to want to relinquish.

Every day since you met them, you wonder why Seungkwan thought it was a good idea to introduce them to you, especially because they both collectively share only one brain cell.

“Or what Seok? I’m older than you. How about you respect your elders? I deserve it!” Soonyoung huffs, one hand gripping his tray, his other swatting around aimlessly in the air.

They looked like two rabid animals circling around one helpless prey. Seungkwan sighs beside you, not in the mood to deal with his friend’s antics. Tired of hearing them fight over a measly slice of pizza, he tries to separate the two of them, and instead of rectifying the situation, it makes things worse.

“Seungkwan gets out of here, it's between me and his greedy ass,” Soonyoung practically barks at the only person trying to make sure no one dies because of a slice of pizza.

“I’m greedy?!” Seokmin points to himself in disbelief, and the look on his face shows how offended he really is. “How can I be greedy, I let you borrow my toothbrush this morning when you lost yours!”

Oh, that's gross, you thought. But knowing Seokmin and Soonyoung, they’re the type of best friends that act like family.

“Dude! You can’t just be yelling that out loud!” Soonyoung looks at him wide-eyed, coming closer to his best friend. The tray in his hand tipped over slightly, gravity causing it to almost slip off. Soonyoung is now more upset over his secret being revealed than the mediocre food that he was fighting over less than 30 seconds ago.

Seungkwan sighs once more, taking the tray from Soonyoung’s hand so it doesn’t fall onto the floor. Then no one would get any pizza at all.

As you watch them from a few steps back, you see the pepperoni pizza get restocked just behind them. The cooks observe the scene that has been unfolding with an unimpressed look in their eyes. It’s not every day that you see two idiots fight over something so trivial.

“Okay fine I’m sorry, but you know their pizza is my favourite!” Seokmin apologizes.

“You two idiots need to stop fighting. They literally put out more, probably because they’re tired of hearing you guys argue!” You motion over to the fresh pizza.

Dumb and dumber stare at each other for a millisecond, then back at the pizza, before speeding over to take enough slices for themselves. You and Seungkwan give each other an exasperated look, both of you questioning why you two are even friends with them in the first place.

When the situation finally settled down, Seungkwan began grilling you about your roommate once more. He is so invested in your setup, and even more so because you haven’t even told him who you’re living with. It could really be anyone on campus.

“Y/nie you never told us who you’re roommate is,” Seungkwan cuts off Seokmin and Soonyoung’s conversation about their favourite Pokemon.

The three of them throw you curious looks, the spotlight now on you.

“Oh, really?” You think back to when you first told Seungkwan about Jeonghan, you really didn’t think naming him would be vital information. Seungkwan thinks otherwise. “His name is Jeonghan? Maybe you guys know of him, he’s in our year, after all.”

“Jeonghan? Like Yoon Jeonghan?” Seungkwan looks at you, his eyes practically bursting out of their sockets.

“We don’t just know of him, Y/nie,” Soonyoung adds, the grave look on his face indicating that maybe naming him was something you should’ve mentioned from the start.

Seungkwan looks at both Seokmin and Soonyoung, his eyes going back and forth from the two of them to you. It’s like the three of them could communicate without any words. You knew their bond was strong, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.

“Y/n…” Seungkwan starts off, placing his hand over yours. “We’ve known him since we were in first year and…he’s definitely built a reputation for himself.”

He nudges his head behind you, causing you to turn around. Jeonghan sits there with Joshua, the two of them laughing a few tables before yours. As you observed the two of them, you couldn’t help but notice how good-looking he was, especially when there was a genuine smile on his face. A girl was sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around his bicep like he was just going to disappear if he let go. You take note of the fact that she isn’t the same girl who you caught in his bedroom the week before.

“So he’s a fuckboy? That’s it?” you snort, not really seeing the problem with that. It doesn’t matter to you anyway, it’s not like you would ever become romantically involved with him.

“Well yes… but he’s also just not someone I think you should be around. You two live together, and if you got any closer with him, it just wouldn’t end well,” Seungkwan sighs, just wanting to warn you about Jeonghan and his womanizing ways.

“His friend Joshua is pretty nice though,” Seokmin adds. “I don’t know why they’re friends but that’s just how they’ve been since we started school here.”

The snow has gotten considerably thicker compared to when you first got to school. The snowbanks along the street start to hit you mid-calf, causing you to wonder if you should’ve taken a taxi home instead. Looking around, you realize that it never stopped snowing from this morning. The chilly weather and the new city experiences are not something you’re used to as someone who’s lived somewhere warm your whole life.

Lights twinkling from shiny Christmas decorations that have yet to be taken down, the cold air that the snow brought along is constantly hitting you in the face. Your cheeks are rosy, your nose running, and the tote bag on your shoulder is constantly slipping off. As annoyed as you feel from all the overstimulation you’re experiencing, you can’t wait until you can just go home and rest.

When you picked this city as your new place to live, you didn’t realize how much you romanticized the winter experience. It’s nothing like any of those Christmas hallmark movies you watched as a kid.

As you walk back to your apartment, you think about what Seungkwan and the boys enlightened you on. The more you begin to learn about Jeonghan, the more you wonder if it was a good idea to move in with him in the first place. There isn’t any going back now, you’re pretty much stuck with him till you can find a place of your own.

You don’t see much of him anyway, it’s not like you’ll be forced to be around him 24/7.

…

“You know what Shua, she’s so infuriating. Not even my mom is up my ass like this.” Jeonghan scoffs.

Joshua decided to walk home with him before going back to his place. He quickly realizes that he regrets making that decision because even in the comfort of Jeonghan’s apartment, he still has to listen to him complain about his new housemate.

“You don’t have a mom, Han,” Joshua rolls his eyes, he can’t keep listening to Jeonghan complain about the same things over and over again.

“Exactly!”

“She’s probably not even that bad, you’re always the type to overreact.”

“Well if she just minded her own fucking business, I wouldn’t be complaining in the first place,” Jeonghan scoffs, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Well maybe if you didn’t leave shit like your hookup’s bra in the living room, I wouldn’t be up your ass all the time,” you scowl, taking off your winter coat as you walk through the door.

It’s a miracle that the two didn’t hear you come in; Jeonghan’s complaining was too loud for anyone to hear anything other than his voice. The moment you walked through the door, it was also the first thing you heard, causing you to roll your eyes as you took your boots off. All the excitement you had to get home is long gone.

“Coffee girl has a point dude,” Joshua sides with you.

“What the hell man, you’re my friend, not hers!” Jeonghan raises his voice, obviously offended that his best friend took the side of someone he considered his enemy.

Joshua only chuckles at his best friend’s baffled expression, it’s not every day that he sees Jeonghan so easily affected by a girl. In almost every circumstance it was the other way around.

“I am your friend but I don’t think I could ever live with you,” Joshua laughs.

He has a point, you don’t think anyone would willingly decide to live with Jeonghan. Except for you.

“Well I gotta go, the weather is continuing to get worse. See you around coffee girl.” Joshua flashes you his charming smile, patting your shoulder as he exits.

“It's Y/n by the way!” you yell at him before the door fully closes. The small smile on your face reaches your eyes.

It's quickly wiped off when you turn back to see Jeonghan giving you a death glare from across the living room. His strong forearms crossed as he taps his foot impatiently, almost like he’s waiting for an argument to start up again.

“Now you’ve got Shua taking your side now?” Jeonghan sneers at you, lasers practically shooting out of his eyes with every move you make.

“It’s not my fault Joshua has critical thinking skills,” you argue back.

Every time you’re near Jeonghan, your blood pressure seems to spike. So much for that one week of peace, it’s obvious you’ve struck a new nerve with him. Before the argument could escalate even further you decide to just walk away.

Retiring to your room, you finally change into some comfy clothes. The whole day had just been extremely tiring, and coming home to Jeonghan starting a new argument with you didn’t help. The moment you walk back out you know he will have something snarky to say, so instead you find solace in your own room for the rest of the night.

You ponder about why your roommate from hell is the way he is. Does he have an allergy to being nice to people? Maybe he was dropped on his head as a baby? With all the sex he has you would assume he’d be a laid-back person, but his temperament proves you otherwise.

…

The obnoxious ringing of your alarm causes you to spring up from your bed. Eyes still droopy with sleep, you haphazardly reach for your phone on your bedside table. Blaming your bad mood and lack of motivation to wake up on the fact that Jeonghan was the last person you thought of last night. A part of you wishes you weren’t so eager at the beginning to enroll in classes at the beginning of the term, or else you wouldn’t be waking up at seven a.m. for an eight-thirty a.m. lecture.

As you begin to check the notifications your eyebrows raise as you read the email sent by your university.

To all students at ____ University,

Due to poor weather conditions and an upcoming blizzard, classes will be moved online until further notice. It is highly advised that all students are to stay indoors till the snowstorm passes. An email will be sent out with details on when in-person classes will resume.

Thank you and stay safe,

____ University’s Administration Team.

“What the hell?” you blurt out in your still-dark room, the light of your screen reflecting onto your face.

You fling the comforter off your body to look through the window of your room. As you peer out the glass you notice that the snow had gotten considerably higher overnight. While walking home yesterday, it didn’t register in your mind that the excessive snowfall was going to become this much of a problem. Not that you were complaining, this just meant you’re able to sleep in a little more.

Jumping back into bed, you realize that because of the advisory to stay indoors, you’re going to have to be around Jeonghan for an unknown period of time. The thought of having to spend time holed up in your apartment with him doesn’t particularly excite you, if anything you’re dreading it. Ultimately, you decide that it’s a problem for your future self, lulling back into a much-needed deep sleep.

…

It’s past mid-day when your body finally decides it’s time for you to wake up. The light peaking through your curtains blinds you. Your head is still fuzzy from the fact you overslept, you couldn’t help but crave a glass of water.

As you untangle your limbs from your sheets, you enter the living room, only to be met with the sight of your roommate building Legos while watching an episode of Crayon Shin-Chan. It gives you whiplash, seeing him playing with Legos and watching cartoons. It’s a stark contrast from when you caught him making out with that girl in his bedroom.

You decide to just ignore his presence, knowing that if either of you spoke it would just turn into an argument.

“Had a good sleep Y/n? It’s practically past noon now,” Jeonghan speaks out, his back facing you as he continues to assemble what seems to be a ramen shop Lego set. You roll your eyes at his comment, continuing to fill up your glass with water.

“Well I wouldn’t be so tired if I wasn’t dealing with your shit all the time,” you spit back, glaring at him over your shoulder.

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you continue to observe Jeonghan playing building his legos, his slender fingers calculated with each and every step as he assembles them. The manual on his lap, while his long blond hair is tucked behind his ear.

“You wouldn’t have to deal with my shit if you just minded your own business.” He acts unfazed, still working diligently, not even bothering to look up at you.

Why does he always have some type of rebuttal? It was like he was raised to argue with people. The more you think about it, you realize why Seungkwan has a certain distaste towards him. He would probably argue with Jeonghan more than you do.

“And I wouldn’t have to mind your business if you didn’t disturb the peace by being so loud whenever you bring someone over.”

A part of you wonders if in another universe you and Jeonghan actually got along, or maybe if he’s an asshole in every other universe too.

“Whatever, I don’t bring anyone over anymore. So take what you can get,” Jeonghan sighs, still not caring enough to take his eyes off his work.

Although you hate to admit it, he's right. Ever since that argument in your bedroom, he hasn’t brought anyone over. Which you're thankful for, but that still doesn’t excuse his stuck-up behaviour.

You sigh, walking over to sit down next to him. Maybe this is his way of finding a middle ground, he’s probably just as tired from all the fighting as you are. One thing about you is that you know when to yield, and if this is Jeonghan’s way of trying to cause fewer fights with you, then so be it. Jeonghan is human too, so you’ll forgive him for now, especially since the fights haven’t really been one-sided either.

“Thank you for that, I appreciate it,” you mumble, taking a look at his Lego manual, and helping him put some of the pieces together.

For the first time that morning, Jeonghan looks up at you. You weren’t aware of his gaze as you continued to put blocks together, but he really took his time looking at you. The light shining through the windows caused your skin to glow. Your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, tongue slightly poking out. He finds you cute, he’ll admit, maybe one of the prettiest girls he’s seen so far in his life, and he’s met a lot of pretty girls. If it weren’t for all the disagreements, he wonders if you two would have actually gotten along and maybe even been more than roommates.

“I’ll be better now, or at least I’ll try to,” he speaks up, eyes still focused on you. As you meet his gaze, you can see he truly meant it. It causes your breath to hitch, it was the first time you’ve seen him so serious, but in a positive way. A small smile forms along your lips, and you take out your hand, signalling for him to shake it.

“Roommates? This could be a peace treaty of sorts.”

“Okay, roommates. Also, I’m sorry for saying all those mean things about you, I can become an asshole when I’m angry,” he apologizes as he gives you a firm handshake. “Which is a shitty excuse, but still, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry too,” you retract your hand, going back to building the miniature ramen shop. “It’s tiring having to argue all the time, I’m sure it was tiring for you too.”

He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement, and it surprises you a little. It’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile from him since you moved in. It felt good to be on the same page with him, the arguing would’ve definitely caused you two to loathe each other until you finally decided to move out.

“This calls for some type of celebration,” He declared, standing up abruptly to search through the fridge.

Jeonghan comes back shortly with a bottle in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. You give him a confused look as he returns to his spot on the carpet. The amused and slightly mischievous glint in his eyes concerns you a little.

As he removes the cork from the spine of the wine bottle, you get a good view of his strong forearms. You’re not sure why it was so mesmerizing to watch him do such a mundane task, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The veins in his arms become more prominent with each move he makes. Before you know it, he’s pouring you a glass and handing it over to you.

“Wine? Really? It’s only 2 p.m.,” you give him a questioning look, you’re hesitant but you take the glass from him anyways.

“Why not? We don’t have school tomorrow anyways,” he shrugs, placing the wine bottle down to take a sip from his own glass.

You follow his actions, taking a sip of the red liquor, and feeling the liquid overcome your taste buds. Making a small sound of delight, you stare at him with wide eyes, showing him that you like the way it tastes. Jeonghan seems to know his way around wine, because, for someone who doesn’t indulge in drinking often, even you enjoyed what he handed you.

“It’s good right?” he grins, clinking the side of his glass with yours.

You giggle, taking another swig, allowing yourself to truly relax for the first time since you moved in. The buzz of the alcohol already takes effect the more you drink it, causing all your limbs to loosen up.

If someone told you that you would be drinking wine and assembling Legos with Jeonghan a week ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. But now that it’s actually happening, you’re not opposed to hanging out with him like this again.

Maybe in this universe, you and Jeonghan do get along.

…

A couple hours and half a ramen shop later, you can start the really feel the effects of the alcohol. There wasn’t much talking between you and Jeonghan, only exchanging a couple words when you got stuck on a part of the build. His voice was soft and nurturing, patiently teaching you when the instructions were unclear. It was the first time you’d heard him so soft spoken, but maybe because every time you two were conversing it was through shouting.

“Here, you just need to put this piece there, then it should look like the manual,” he mumbles, taking the platform from your hand to put the block in the right way.

His fingers lightly graze yours as he takes it from your hands, the warmth of his touch making you blush slightly. The proximity of your face to his, plus all the wine you had in your system started to make you feel more flustered than normal. In regular circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have thought so hard about the small interactions you had with him while you two put the Legos together. But something was hanging in the air as you two shared this moment together, and you couldn’t really put your finger on it.

“Oh okay… thanks,” you mumble as you continue on with the instructions. “When did you get so fond of Legos anyway?”

“My dad and I used to build them together when I was younger,” he confides with a sad smile across his face.

Jeonghan doesn’t really like to indulge in his home life much, but the wine in his system caused his walls to crumble a bit. Every brick he laid to put his feelings behind slowly came undone with each sip he took from his glass.

“He felt bad that I had to grow up without a mom, so he liked to bond over this,” he continues as he motions over to the plastic blocks in his hands.

Your mouth went dry as you heard him talk with so much cadence, a part of you felt bad for him, naturally so, but you also empathized with him. Growing up, your home life wasn’t the best either, and the fact that he’s decided to tell you something so important made you feel a little bit closer to him.

“He seems like a great dad,” you affirmed, not wanting to press too much because you weren’t sure if he wanted to elaborate more on the situation.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, Jeonghan stops and looks at the way you smile at him. It's sympathetic, but he can’t tell you’re not doing it out of pity, just understanding. The city lights reflected in your eyes, causing them to twinkle in your now dim apartment. The way you stared at him made his heart skip. At the beginning of the day he saw you as his stuck-up roommate, but now you’re just Y/n, who happens to be his roommate.

“He is, he really did a lot for me growing up,” Jeonghan chuckles, tearing his eyes from you to hide the blush starting to creep up from his neck.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you say as your hand goes back to continue putting pieces of Legos together. “My parents weren’t really like that when I was young.”

Jeonghan perks up a little, stunned by the fact that you decided to share a tidbit about yourself. He doesn’t really know much about you, so the fact that you’ve also decided to confide in him about your family surprised him.

“They were always away when I was kid, they had to travel for work a lot, but I got used to it,” you mutter, not really sure why you felt the need to tell him about the neglect you felt when you were a kid. The topic of your parents was sensitive, and a part of you isn’t sure why you felt so comfortable talking about it with someone whom you felt resentment for not more than twenty-four hours ago. Jeonghan should be the last person you talk to about this, but yet you did it anyway.

“I only ever saw them on weekends, and even then they weren’t the most affectionate people on earth.” A sigh leaves your lips as you recount the years you spent alone. “They were so busy that they ended up hiring a nanny at some point.”

“That must’ve been hard, I’m sorry Y/n,” Jeognhan puts his hand over yours, giving you a solemn look, his frown mimicking yours.

The knot in your throat intensified as he stared at you, causing you to swallow harshly.

“It’s fine, I got used to it. It’s the reason why I moved cities,” you admit as he continues to hold your hand reassuringly. “They just expected so much from me, being the only child and all, and it got so bad to the point that the only time they spoke to me were to criticize my actions. I just knew that I would be happier if I didn’t have to be around them all the time.”

A bitter laugh leaves your lips, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill. If it weren’t for the fact that you had alcohol running through your system, you probably wouldn’t feel so emotional. Your parents are supposed to be the ones taking care of you and to be there for you when you need to be, but it seemed like the total opposite. Instead, they were the ones you couldn’t share anything with, not even when you told them that you got accepted to your dream university. Neither of them ever congratulated you on your achievements or milestones, nothing seemed to impress them.

Jeonghan didn’t utter a word, only listening to what you had to say, and it felt nice. For the first time, you could just genuinely share your feelings, without the scrutiny of your parents, without the fear of being ridiculed or being called weak.

“Your parents don’t know anything about you Y/n, and one day they’ll regret every time they doubted you.” Jeonghan shrugs, and it feels like a breath of fresh air, hearing someone comfort you in a way your parents refuse to.

“Thank you Jeonghan,” you whisper, blinking away unshed tears. “I’m sorry for dumping all that on you by the way.”

The guilt in your stomach circled as you realized that your tangent went on longer than you would’ve liked, especially because the conversation was meant to be about him and not you.

It's clear to him that you thought talking about yourself was a selfish act, but it’s not. Jeonghan knew that the reason for your guilt was because of how much your parents neglected and ridiculed you growing up. If anything he feels guilty that he’s only now realizing how nice of a person you are.

“Don’t be. I’m happy to listen.” He squeezes your hand, doing what he can to soothe your pain.

…

You suddenly wake up to find yourself seated with your back resting against the base of the couch. As you begin to regain consciousness from your cat nap, you hear the tv humming softly, the screen glowing as it plays a random movie. You also realized that your head was resting gently on Jeonghan’s shoulder, causing you to jolt up slightly from your position.

“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” Jeonghan chirps, chuckling at the way you had just reacted.

You don’t even remember falling asleep, let alone putting your head on his shoulder as you drifted off. The warmth of his body radiating onto yours, the smell of his cologne wafting off of him and enveloping your senses. At least he doesn’t stink, you thought to yourself.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep, sorry,” you murmured, your cheeks turning red.

The ambient lighting reflected onto Jeonghan’s face, the clear view of his smug expression made you want to smack him. There’s a glint in his eyes, one that you couldn’t really put a finger on. His arm is over your shoulder, which you didn’t realize was around you till now. Rubbing up at down your arm soothingly, it causes you to lean into his touch even more. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to do so, but all thoughts had left your head. Relaxation flowed through your veins, causing you to not think too much of the situation you’ve been put in.

His touch is innocent, but the hair on your arm raises with each brush of Jeonghan’s palm.

As you became more calm with each second that passed, you put your head on his shoulder once again. Embracing the intimate position you’ve been put in with your roommate of all people. You decide to just watch the movie that was playing, even though you didn’t know what was going on. Anything to stop you from thinking too much about the fact that you’re practically cuddled up with Jeonghan; the man who you despised not too long ago.

“It’s fine, you seemed pretty drowsy from the wine,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning across the side of your face from the close proximity. “Remind me not to let you drink so much.”

“I don’t drink often, I'm pretty sure I'm still a little tipsy,” you laugh, still staring at the flashing scenes coming off the screen.

You can see Joenghan observing you from your peripheral vision, his eyes scanning your face for any type of discomfort. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol he had drank or the atmosphere of the cozy apartment, but he didn’t hate that he was holding you close. You were so focused on the TV, yet he found you more interesting than whatever movie he decided to put on. Eyebrows scrunched with concentration, lips in a line as you continued to pay attention to the characters in front of you. The red tint on your cheeks from the alcohol looked good to him, even when doing the most mundane act of watching a movie.

“Y/n,” Jeonghan calls out for you with his soft voice, eyes entranced by your beauty.

“Hmm?” you respond to him, finally meeting face-to-face with him. Taken aback by how close he had gotten as you turned to look at him, your eyes grew wide.

He doesn’t say much more, only taking his other hand to grab ahold of your chin, levelling your face with his. Looking down at your lips and then back to your eyes, makes your palms sweat. All your thoughts are in disarray as he moves close enough to nudge his nose against yours. Practically tasting you, but not close enough to feel his lips on yours.

Frozen in your spot on the carpet, you don’t move an inch, even though you could feel him starting to close the gap between you. A part of you is telling you to run away, push him off, anything, but your body stays still. Wrapped in his embrace, you don’t want to leave, not even when you begin to feel his lips place a soft kiss on yours.

His warm lips are plush as he presses himself against you even more. The world crumbles away as you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to stabilize yourself. He becomes rougher, kissing you with more intent. Jeonghan takes his hand off your chin to wrap it around your waist, pulling you over and onto his lap. You can’t help but gasp at how fast he’s able to dominate the situation, but you don’t stop moving along with him.

For once in your life, you release yourself from self-doubt and overthinking. Letting Jeonghan take over all your thoughts, all of your senses. It’s all you can think about now, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, his name replaying in your head. No one else at that moment existed except you and him, and it causes you to kiss him back with the same determination.

He grips onto your hips, feeling you up, kissing you for all he’s worth. As if you're the only source of water during a year-long drought. A groan bubbles up from his throat as you grind yourself against his crotch, and you can’t help but moan back in response. He takes that opportunity to force his tongue past your lips, licking the inside of your mouth. It felt so damn good that you can only grind against him harder. The kiss became wetter, messier, with each passing second.

“F-fuck, you can’t move like that sweetheart,” he detaches his lips from yours, groaning from how you keep pressing yourself against his growing erection.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so flustered, and the look on his face is addicting. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but you were just trying to go along with the flow he had set.

“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” you pant out, still out of breath from the little make-out session you just had.

You weren’t born yesterday, and the more you shuffle against his body, you begin to feel his hard-on brush up against the inside of your thigh. It makes you gasp, you didn’t realize how turned on Jeonghan had become just from kissing you. The experience of even just kissing someone was foreign to you, whatever it is that you were doing, he obviously enjoyed it.

“Oh,” is all you can say after discovering how hard he is under you.

“I didn’t tell you to stop though, did I?” He says, eyes lidded as he looks at your flushed face.

He connects your lips with his once again, his hands travelling up your shorts and under them, groping at the soft skin of your ass, forcing you to grind against his length. A moan leaves your lips as you feel him touch you in such a lewd way, but you don’t want to stop. The pleasure of it all rewires your brain as you become more obsessed with the feeling of him all over you.

“T-that feels really good,” you whimper against him, shamelessy starting to grind against him on your own accord.

He lets out a chuckle before detaching his lips to place wet, hot kisses against your neck, moving down further to suckle on the base of your throat and collarbones. This is the first time you felt someone kiss you there, or anywhere to be honest, but you didn’t want him to stop. Not after knowing how good he is with just his mouth and hands all over you.

“We can’t keep going or I’ll lose my self-control,” he breathes against your neck, his harsh grip still kneading your ass. The reality of the situation finally seeped into his brain. You whine against him, the last thing you want him to do is stop, but he does so anyway, pulling you off him. The only sound of both of your heavy breathing echoes throughout the apartment.

“Oh okay,” you feel a little rejected, not sure why he couldn’t go any further with you.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, but I want you to be fully sober the next time I kiss you,” is all he says before he walks away, going back to his room without another word.

You’re left dumbfounded; the short, yet hot make out session started to finally sink in. It made you stop and think for a moment, would you even have gone further if he allowed it? Would you have let him fuck you on the floor of your shared apartment? It scared you how fast you made up your mind, the thought of him pleasuring you sending a shock throughout your whole body.

It’s not every day you kiss your roommate who you thought you hated. As you try to recollect your thoughts, you realize how all of this could lead you down a really bad path. But a part of you is curious as to what would have happened if Jeonghan hadn’t stopped himself.

VI.

It’s the next morning and your university sent out another email that classes will go back to regular scheduling the following day. You felt relief that the snowstorm wasn’t too extreme but at the same time, you didn’t want to return after the short break. School was the least of your worries though, the thoughts of what happened last night with Jeonghan stayed at the forefront of your mind.

You woke up before him, bright and early, others would think you’re just an early riser, but in reality, it was because you were up all night replaying the moments of when you lost your first kiss to your roommate. Not being able to get a wink of sleep, you decided to stay up till morning, early enough to make breakfast for yourself. It made you feel a little pathetic, knowing how easy it was for Jeonghan to conquer all your waking thoughts.

If only you knew that he faced the same problem as he tried his best to fall asleep.

“Morning,” Jeonghan walks into the kitchen nonchalantly, catching a glimpse of you cooking by the stove.

His sudden presence startles you, causing you to yelp out while cooking a batch of scrambled eggs. Turning around your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his frame, his long blond hair flowing to his shoulders, not wearing anything but a pair of grey sweatpants, his boxers slightly peaking past the waistband. You were practically drooling as he stood there, his arms crossed accentuating his biceps.

“Do you have to sneak up on me every time?” You mutter, breaking away your gaze from his body to regain focus on your current task. The eggs in your pan slightly burnt because of how much Jeonghan distracted you.

He laughs at you, noticing the now brown eggs that sit sadly in your frying pan. Watching your shoulders slump with disappointment, he can’t help but admire you right back. Your sleep shorts and long T-shirt did not leave much up to the imagination. It wasn’t even noon but Jeonghan couldn’t help but imagine fucking you against the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t know I had to announce my presence every time, my bad, princess,” Jeonghan teases, observing how you react to the name he’s given you.

Striding to where you stand, he comes up right behind you placing his hands on your hips, close enough that you could feel his breath tickle the nape of your neck. It leaves you breathless, and you finally understand why so many girls are desperate to get a lick of his attention. Even his slightest actions exude some sort of attractiveness, an effect you didn’t fully realize he had till last night’s hot make-out session.

You try to ignore your intrusive thoughts, ignoring how close he’s standing behind you. As you plate up your food, he continues to follow you around, trying to get you to crack under the sexual tension he had created between the two of you.

“Could you just stand still for one minute?” you sigh, feeling him coming behind you again, arms around your waist.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he answers you with a question, and you can practically hear the pout in his voice.

“Maybe because there’s a hot pan in my hand right now, and you keep trying to annoy me,” you chastise him, your voice coming out breathier than you wanted. He continues pestering you, feeling up your waist, not wanting to let you go so easily.

His large hands hold you close, your ass right against his front as you try to finish up what you’re doing in the kitchen. It was hard to ignore a man like Jeonghan, especially because he was refusing to relinquish his hold on you as you placed the pan back onto the stove to cool down.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he admits, his voice a little rough from just waking up.

You sigh, turning around to face him, his arms moving to inclose you against the counter. The lust in his eyes is clear as if the only thing he’s hungry for this morning is you.

“Me neither,” you whisper back, his body so close to yours to the point that you could hear his heartbeat against his chest.

Looking into his eyes, you could see the mischievous glint reflecting against the morning sun. Is it too early for you to be horny for your roommate? Maybe. But you didn’t care, after having a taste of Jeonghan last night, all you want is more of him.

Once those words were uttered, Jeonghan didn’t waste any more time. His mouth claimed yours in a heated kiss, making you dizzy and out of breath. As he forces his tongue past your lips, you can’t help but moan out of surprise. The grip he has on you only gets tighter until he lifts you onto the kitchen island, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The counter is at the perfect height, allowing you to feel his erection right against your heat. Jeonghan presses into you harder, allowing his clothed length to brush up against you, making you whimper against his lips.

“J-Jeonghan,” you moan out for him as his lips trail down your neck just like last night. The feeling of him pressed up against is so addicting, to the point that you’ve forgotten about your breakfast that is plated beside you.

He doesn’t dare stop showering you with kisses, his hands travelling up and under your shirt to grope at your breasts, playing with your hardened nipples. He’s thankful you were still in your pyjamas, no bra to stop him from touching your full mounds.

“You’ll be my breakfast for today, is that okay with you?” he mumbles against your neck and you can only nod in response.

Your eagerness makes him chuckle, and you can feel the vibration of his voice along your skin. He pulls back from you, swiftly removing the oversized shirt you have on. He groans at the sight, seeing your body for on display for him. His hard member twitches in his pants as he takes in every inch of your curves. Jeonghan can’t help but dive back into your breasts, taking one in his mouth, licking and suckling on your nipple while he massages the other.

“That feels so good,” you moan, eyes closed as you lose yourself in the pleasure of his mouth.

He’s only paying attention to your chest, but the bottom half of you is becoming wet and needy with every second that passes. Jeonghan is obsessed with the way you moan for him, the sounds coming from your mouth are so unholy, it’s all he wants to hear from you from now on. Just seeing you spread out for him like this is making his thoughts run a million miles per hour. He has so much he wants to do for you, but he decides to take his time, wanting to just savour each inch of your body.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he sighs, pulling his mouth away from your body, standing back a little to take you in more clearly.

You already looked so fucked out, and he loves it. He loves seeing your bare chest heaving, hair dishevelled, lips red and swollen. This image of you is so drastic from when he first met you, he never thought you’d be so submissive and needy for him. The blood rushing from his brain down to his dick, it's almost painful how hard he is, but he doesn’t care. He wants to see you come undone from his mouth before anything else.

“Can I taste you baby?” he asks so sweetly as if he isn’t asking to make you cum from just his tongue.

The ache between your legs intensifies, causing you to shut them close to allow yourself some type of relief. You’ve never been this aroused before. Of course, you’ve touched and played with yourself before, but you’ve never had anyone eat you out. The yearning to experience it grows tenfold as you watch him move closer, removing your shorts and panties in one go.

“I’ve never done this before,” you admit to him, avoiding his gaze as your cheeks turn red. Your legs shut in an instant as you feel the cold air hit your wet core.

Jeonghan sighs, gripping your face between his hands, your cheeks squished between his fingers. His dominant side begins to show as he stares at you with a serious look in his eyes. You find him so sexy as he examines you with so much lust, the wetness in your legs becomes harder to ignore the longer you two stay in this position.

“I don’t mind, as long as you’re okay with me eating you out,” he assured, waiting for your approval.

“I’m more than okay with it,” you nod eagerly, taking his hand off your face and placing it between your legs, “touch me here, please Jeonghan.”

You sound so needy for him, it makes his head fill with thoughts of you under him, begging him to fuck you harder. But that's for next time, he concludes, right now he just wants you to feel the pleasure of his fingers and tongue.

Without pausing, he forces your legs apart, spread for him so wide to the point that your body begins to ache at your knees and hips. Jeonghan doesn’t care, his eyes are still trained on your glistening cunt, so exposed for him, all for him. Running a finger against your slit, he tests the waters, and you immediately react with a moan. He’s barely touched you but you’re so responsive; the sounds you’re making practically frying his brain.

He doesn’t stop because he’s only focused on making you cum against his mouth. Starting with his fingers, he rubs your clit lightly, giving it much-needed attention. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as he continues to play with you.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he grunts before inserting a finger into your sopping hole. “And so tight.”

You moan as he breaches your entrance with his fingers, the feeling of him inside you making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He takes the intensity up a notch, allowing a second finger past your folds. You’ve never felt this full before, your own fingers feel like nothing compared to Jeonghan’s.

“Hmm Jeonghan please,” you beg him, for what exactly, you weren’t sure; all you know is that you need more of him.

Hearing you whiny, breathless and begging for him makes him groan as he watches your face contort with pleasure. The scrunch of your eyebrows as your small hands grip his shoulders in enough to make him cum in his pants.

He continues his ministrations, pumping into and out of your pussy till the only thing he can hear is your moans and the sound of your walls squelching against his fingers. The familiar feeling of an orgasm is approaching quickly, causing you to spasm against his wet digits. But he doesn’t stop there, instead, he removes his fingers to get on his knees, face levelling with your spent core.

“So wet for me aren’t you?” he chuckles as you feel his hot breath against your entrance. “I bet you’re as sweet as I imagined too.”

Taking his tongue he places a long languid lick against your wetness, flicking it up and down till it has you gripping onto his locks. One hand pinning you down as the other teases your hole.

The feeling of his mouth against your cunt is much more intense than having his fingers inside you. It felt so good, you thought drool was about to escape past your lips. Jeonghan doesn’t go easy on you, even if it’s your first time receiving oral. His mind only focused on feeling you release onto his tongue.

“Ah! Jeonghan please,” you continue begging, gripping his hair the more his tongue plays with your pussy.

He ignores your pleading, thrusting his fingers, tongue sucking and biting on your bundle of nerves. You look down at him, his eyes piercing yours as he eats you out. The image of his mouth on your cunt is so lewd, but you love it. You love having him kneel in front of you, doing what he can just so you can reach your orgasm.

“I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head lolling back as you release onto his tongue.

“You did so well princess,” he praises you, standing up so that you two are at eye level once more.

Jeonghan’s chin is wet with your release, his lips red and pouty from how hard he was trying to get you to your climax. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he places his soaked fingers against your lips, forcing you to taste your cum on his fingers. He grins as you obediently lick them clean, imagining it's his cock in your mouth instead. As much as he yearns for more, he stops there, not trying to overwhelm you after such an intense orgasm.

“Best breakfast I’ve had in a while,” he smirks as he watches you come down from your high.

Collecting your clothes from the kitchen floor, he places them back on your body. Your mind still buzzing with pleasure, and you couldn’t find the strength to reply to his comments. Instead, you just allow him to carry you into the washroom to get you cleaned up.

VII.

The last time you had seen Jeonghan was the night before school started up again. The two of you didn’t really talk about it after it happened, he just cleaned you up and asked if you wanted to finish the Legos together. He talked to you more about his family but after that, it was mostly silent. You gave up going to bed, tired, and did not want to wake up late for classes the next day. The little ramen shop had been left unfinished, the remaining pieces were few but still scattered on your shared coffee table.

Now that you were back to your regular schedule you were starting to feel a little rejected, Jeonghan occupying most of your thoughts, did he miss your presence as much as you missed his? How can two people live together but not get to communicate for even a moment? Everything was fine between you two, except for the fact that he was asleep before you left for school, and you were asleep by the time he got home. It left a weird feeling in your stomach that your last interaction with him was the day he ate you out.

He isn’t your boyfriend, you’re not sure if he’s even your friend yet, but you two are something. What do you even call a person who you’ve hooked up with and also share an apartment with? There are so many unanswered questions circulating in your brain, but would Jeonghan be able to answer them? It frustrates you how one moment between you changed everything. You’re a smart girl, but when it comes to men it’s like all knowledge has left your head.

“Y/n, you okay? You’re spacing out,” Seungkwan queried, tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine.” You give him a small smile before refocusing on your lecture.

Seungkwan wasn’t so convinced, he could tell you had a lot on your mind, but he just wasn’t sure what it was. You two have only known each other for a while, so he decided to trust that you were okay, hoping that you would talk to him about it when you were ready.

“If you say so, but I’m here if you need me.” He gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your shoulder.

It felt nice to know you had someone to lean on when you needed it, to finally have people around you that are aware of your feelings. You knew from the moment you met him that Seungkwan was going to be one of those people you could be friends with for a long time. He’s so observant, aware of others' feelings, and overall comforting to be around. It made you wonder why you didn’t move earlier, especially because the people you were destined to be friends with were here the whole time.

“Thanks, Kwan, you’re the best,” you whisper, trying not to disrupt the class going on.

Even though you tried to focus on what the professor was talking about, your thoughts still led back to the man who lives less than ten feet away from you.

…

“You did all that with her… on your kitchen counter?” Joshua gives Jeonghan an incredulous look. “Dude we eat there.”

“Well I was eating wasn’t I?” Jeonghan bites back, not wanting to hear Joshua scold him.

The two of them are sitting on Joshua’s couch, blunt in hand as they catch each other up on both their lives. It seems that Joshua missed out on a few things since the snowstorm had hit their city. Quite a lot more than he was expecting, but he wasn’t all that surprised. He knows if you put a woman and Jeonghan in a room all alone, something is bound to happen.

“You’re actually disgusting,” he rolls his eyes, passing the lit blunt over to Jeonghan. “Have you talked to her?”

Jeonghan sighs, grabbing the weed from his friend to take a hit, the smoke immediately filling his lungs, calming him with every puff that he lets out.

He hasn’t seen you since the last night of the snowstorm, and he isn’t sure where the two of you stand, but he does know that it won’t be the last time he has you cumming for him. He’ll make sure of it.

“No, haven’t seen her since that Wednesday,” he shrugs, passing the joint back over to his friend.

“Bro, what the fuck? It’s Friday, she probably thinks you don’t want to talk to her again.” Joshua gives him a disapproving look, but still takes another puff of the blunt handed over to him.

Jeonghan wasn’t sure how to reach out to you, he isn’t even the type to go back for seconds either. Yet he wants seconds with you, thirds, and even fourths, but how does he tell you that without sounding like he’s completely simp? It’s just not his style to beg, his pride tends to get in the way.

“Do you want to talk to her again?” Joshua asks him, curious as to whether this is someone his friend is actually falling for.

Joshua has watched Jeonghan go through his fair share of girl problems, but in all the years he’s known Jeonghan, he’s never seen him fall in love once. He assumes it’s his mommy issues or the fact that he doesn’t like being tied down to one person, but even then, the most indifferent of people can fall for the right person.

“I do. She’s different, Shua,” Jeonghan sighs, the high finally reaching his brain, the world becoming a fuzzy background.

That moment with you two building legos that day lives rent-free in his mind, your willingness to open up to him made him feel warm inside. He felt like the Grinch who’s heart grew ten times bigger after watching you be so vulnerable with him. The view he had on you changed completely, from being his annoying roommate to a girl who’s smart, strong, and enjoyable to be around. You two had a lot in common and it surprised him, and it surprised him that he was able to get along with you, despite all the arguing he put you through.

“Then what the hell are you doing? Talk to her!�� Joshuas chastises him, trying to knock some sense into the idiot he calls his friend.

They both look at each other for a moment, eyes red from the weed they had been smoking. A disappointed sigh left Joshua’s lips. Even though he could feel his high hitting him, he felt as though he still had more common sense than Jeonghan had when he was sober.

“And say what? Hey, I liked eating you out, can we do it again?” Jeonghan scoffs, still not sure how to bring up what had gone down that day.

“Yes? That’s what you want isn’t it?”

“It is, but that makes me sound like a needy loser,” Jeonghan grimaces before finishing off the rest of the shared joint in hand, leaving the rest in the ashtray on the table in front of him.

“You’re so annoying, let your pride go for once before she starts to resent you again,” Joshua huffs, annoyed that he’s high and still dealing with Jeonghan’s shit, “She literally just forgave you for being an asshole too, so don’t fuck up again please, for my mental health.”

Although Jeonghan hates to admit it, Joshua is right. He knows that he should at least put effort in talking to you, but he just doesn’t know where to start. Hopefully, you’re still willing to talk to him, or else Joshua might just nag his ear off till he’s old and shrivelled.

VIII.

Beep beep beep. Click.

The sound of the door unlocking brings you out of your thoughts, and you know exactly who it is. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you sit on the couch, attempting to act unbothered as Jeonghan makes his way past the front entrance. Conflicted on whether you should address his presence or not, you decide to continue watching Gossip Girl as if he’s not there.

“Y/n.” Your heart skips a beat as you hear him call out for you.

You don’t even look at him, just letting out a “Hmm?”, eyes pretending to be trained on the TV. There’s a little bit of shuffling in the front room before he comes over to sit beside you on the couch.

Jeonghan settles down a little too close to you, close enough for you to smell the scent of cologne and weed waft off of him and into your nostrils. The smell is strong yet not unpleasant, if anything you felt more attracted to him because of it.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk since…” He trails off, causing you to finally glance over at him.

His eyes were a bit red and glossed over, he must’ve still been a little high. The way he was staring you down like he just wanted to eat you, it was intoxicating.

“Yeah, I guess we didn’t get to talk about what happened in the kitchen.” You try to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were freaking out.

Not only because Jeonghan was actually making an effort to talk about what happened, but also because he looks so good right now. The lazy smirk across his face as he slowly invades your space is causing your brain to short circuit.

Putting his arm around you, he leans into the couch a little more, wanting to fill all his senses with you and you only. “I liked it a lot. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Oh,” is all you can say as your heart starts to pound in your chest.

You weren’t sure on how to reply, this is the first time you’ve casually hooked up with someone. It was the first time you’ve hooked up with someone in general, and even though you want to proceed with caution, it’s like all thoughts leave your head when Jeonghan is around you.

“I liked it too,” you finally tell him, scared he might just be saying all this because he’s still high.

The same lazy smirk appears his on face again, eyes lidded as he stares at your features. Images of you cumming on his tongue fill his thoughts again; he can already feel all the blood rushing to his lower half. Just the sight of you spread out on the countertop for him could get him to cum in his pants, no matter how experienced he is. It hasn’t happened to him before, but you may just be the first person to get him there.

“Would you be down to do it again?” he propositions, searching for any type of indication that you would indulge in his darkest fantasies.

You look at him with uncertainty, even though you liked how he ate you out, would it be worth it to do it again? Would it be worth it to give him a piece of you, one that you thought you were going to save for someone who truly loved you? There’s so many questions you’re asking yourself, but the way Jeonghan’s gaze is trained on you has all those thoughts slipping away from your brain at the speed of light.

Before even getting the chance to speak, you decide to let your actions do the talking instead.

With one abrupt motion, you settle yourself on Jeonghan’s lap, immediately placing your lips on his with a sense of urgency. He’s taken aback with how forward you’ve become, but lets himself melt into the kiss regardless. Gripping harshly onto your hips, he kisses you back with as much passion, licking the inside of your mouth as if it holds the answers to all his problems.

A moan slips past your lips as you feel his growing bulge rub against you through your thin sleep shorts, the way it’s poking at your clothed clit in the most delicious way has you going delirious with pleasure.

“You sound so pretty when you moan like that,” he breathes against your neck, kissing his way down to your collarbones.

As you lean more into his touch, Jeonghan’s hands find themselves back under your shorts once more. Gripping the flesh of your ass harshly before reconnecting your lips with his in a sloppy, wet kiss. His touch is hot and addicting like you could spend hours on top of him like this. The feeling of his body under yours has your stomach doing backflips as he continues to kiss you till your lips are bruised and red.

“More,” you beg him, trying to indulge in all the pleasure he’s giving you.

Jeonghan pulls away, his eyebrows raising with intrigue as he finally sobers up from his high. He wants nothing more than to take you onto his bed and fuck you like no tomorrow, but he has a feeling that that won’t happen tonight. Not that it bothers him, just that he wants to be in a better state before feeling you around his achingly hard dick.

It’s so out of character for him to take things slow, especially because he’s always been a one-and-done type of guy. But this is different to him, hooking up with you is like he’s experiencing it all for the first time again.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” The wolfish grin on his face reaches his eyes, satisfied with how cock drunk you look, and he’s barely touched you yet.

Nodding vigorously with pleading eyes, you grip his biceps in desperation. He doesn’t concede to your request just yet, instead, he simply pulls you off his lap to take you to his room. You follow him wordlessly, nervous as to what he has cooking up in that delinquent brain of his.

He sits you on the bed, telling you to stay put as he ruffles around his room in search of something. As he continued to seek out whatever it was, you began to take a look around his room, realizing that you’d never actually been inside it. The decorations adorning his room made it look so cozy; especially the warm mushroom lamp sitting on his nightstand and the fluffy blankets that lined his bed. The initial impression of his room screamed Jeonghan, especially because it’s so calm and comforting, even if your first impression of him was the complete opposite. After getting to know him a bit more, his personality translates clearly into his choice of decorations.

“Found it!” he exclaims, turning around to show you what's in his hands.

A small bong in one and a tiny bag of weed in the other. You give him a questioning look but you already know what he is trying to allude to.

“You want me to try it?” you ask him with uncertainty, but also not completely against the idea.

He nods before quickly leaving to fill the glass bowl with some water. Only a few seconds later, he returns, taking a seat beside you on his bed. You weren’t sure what to do so you moved to lay against his headboard, watching him as he meticulously prepared the weed to pack into the bowl. His slender fingers wrap around the grinder till the flower is fine enough to smoke. Continuing to observe him, your eyes waver to his form, hunched over next to you as he places a few sprinkles of the drug into the slider. His biceps flex and unflexing with each movement he makes causing your mouth to salivate. You never thought someone could look so attractive simply packing a bowl of weed.

“I’ll show you how it’s done first,” he smirks, already loving where this is going.

Just because he won’t fuck you tonight doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a little bit of fun in the meantime.

Jeonghan takes his lighter, sparking the drug till it's ready to be inhaled. The water inside the bong begins to bubble as he inhales, allowing the smoke to enter his lungs. Once all the white smoke leaves the stem he holds it in his mouth, dragging you by the arm to bring you closer to him. You aren’t sure where this is going, but you decide to just follow his lead.

His face comes closer to yours, one hand on the bong to keep it steady, his free hand reaching for the side of your cheek, pulling you into an almost kiss. While his hand is on your cheek, he pulls your lower lip down with his thumb, indicating for you to open your mouth for him. He holds his breath till you comply, not wanting any of the vapour to go to waste.

Once you do what he wants, he moves in even closer, till your lips are whispering against his. Then he lets go, allowing the smoke to enter your mouth, noses brushing against one another from the close proximity.

“Be a good girl and inhale it for me,” he mutters, eyes trained on your face as you oblige to his request.

The smell of the weed and his scent make your insides melt, and you can feel the wetness of your arousal starting to stick to your panties. You know enough about the drug to know that the effects of the weed won’t hit you right away, but the new experience is starting to excite you, making your body jitter with anticipation.

Placing the bong on your lap, he packs another bowl expertly like it’s his everyday routine. You copy what he did earlier, placing your lips inside the rim and looking at him through your lashes as he lights it up. The water begins to bubble again as you try to inhale as much smoke as possible, but you are only able to take about half of what is in the stem.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, causing you to cough a bit from the heat of the smoke. Jeonghan only chuckles at your reaction, finding it endearing how hard you tried to take it all. He finishes off the rest of what’s left, blowing it out once it was inhaled properly before placing the glass onto his nightstand and pulling you onto his lap once more.

“You did pretty well for a newbie,” he laughs, eyes lighting up as he notices that your gaze is now glossed over, the weed finally taking its effect.

The heat on your cheeks clearly indicated that you felt flustered, all you wanted now was for him to pleasure you like he did once before. You hide your face into the crevice of his neck, not wanting him to see how red your face has gotten.

“I didn’t think the first time I’d try weed would be with you,” your voice is muffled, still not really fully grasp the situation, or how you even ended up on his bed both high and horny.

“Did you enjoy it at least?” he asks you, pulling your face out from where you were hiding.

You nod, not able to look him in the eye as he rubs his hands up and down your sides, soothing you while your brain becomes foggy with thoughts of only him. Leaning into his touch more, you place a peck on his lips, giggling at how innocent it is compared to the position you’re in right now. He smiles up at you before leaning into you to give you a proper kiss.

You’re completely engulfed in him, the weed heightening your senses, making you more sensitive to his touch. Every brush of his fingers is like a burst of mini fireworks exploding against your skin. It felt so good, having him in this way, underneath you and feeling the same sensations that you were experiencing.

He groans as you deepen his kiss, grinding your hips against him just like you did not too long before. Jeonghan’s hands massage your bare thighs, wanting to hold onto you till you are out of breath.

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” he mumbles against your lips, and you can only moan back in response.

“Want you, please Hannie.” Your brain is mush, the nickname slipping past your lips accidentally, but with the way he groans, you can tell he enjoys the sound of it.

Pulling away from his face completely, he watches your red eyes beg for him to take you. His resolve falters a little bit, but he’s adamant about his decision. He won’t fuck you, not when you’re both high.

“Not today love, not like this,” he sighs, kissing up your neck, marking you till a little bruise forms.

You whine, gripping onto his hair, letting the strands flow through your fingers. He enjoys the way you tug at him, his boner twitching underneath you. The feeling of his hard length flush against your clothed core makes you grind against him even faster. It made you wonder what it would feel like if he was actually in you, his length filling your velvet walls, but you don’t mind waiting till you’re actually sober enough to register everything.

“I want to do something for you though,” you pout, your lip jutted out slightly.

She’s cute when she’s high, he thinks to himself, enjoying this new side of you. Needy, submissive, just wanting to give yourself up to him.

“Fuck, you’re adorable,” he says as he rests his head against the headboard, wanting to observe your every feature. “Wanna suck me off? Would you do that for me, baby?”

You don’t need to be asked twice, getting off his lap till your face is positioned in front of his clothed erection. Jeonghan’s upper body is sat against the headboard, your intoxicating figure between his legs.

This is the first time you’ve had the opportunity to give someone oral, and you were a little bit nervous about what to do. The anxious look on your face is clear as Jeonghan looks down at you. Luckily enough, you’ve seen a few pornos in your lifetime, so you use that to guide you on what to do next.

A hand creeps up towards the band of his sweats, pulling down on both his pants and his boxers till his hard member slaps against his stomach. Jeonghan lets out a hiss as the cold air hits his length, the tip red and dripping with pre cum. The length surprised you, and you wondered if it would even fit inside you at all.

You start by pumping his hardness up and down, collecting the drops of cum to lubricate your movements. Jeonghan gasps at the feeling, watching your small hand wrap around him. The lewdness of the situation turned him on even more.

“You’re doing well baby,” he lets out with a strangled grunt, trying not to cum at the sight of you playing with him.

The confidence of his praise radiated throughout your whole body, leading to your rookie mistake. You engulf his length in his mouth, trying to fit the whole thing, just wanting to give him the same pleasure he gives to you. Jeonghan yelps from how quick you are to take him whole, grabbing you by your hair to remove you from his dick.

“Fuck, just wait, try starting slower, maybe lick it a little first,” he says with laboured breaths, trying to calm down from the heat of your mouth.

Your cheeks flush from his advice, letting out a small sorry before doing what he says.

Going slower this time, you stick your tongue out, licking and kissing up and down his member, hearing Jeonghan let out a satisfied sigh. You watch him through your lashes, his eyes lidded and red, filled with want as you continue your ministrations.

“Just like that, fuck…” he continues to praise you, his fingers carding through the strands of your hair, helping you get it out of your face.

Your confidence peaks again as you begin to take his tip into your mouth. Sucking on it like it was a popsicle on a hot, sunny day. Jeonghan’s head lolls back and he begins to push your head down to take more of him. Going along with the rhythm, you slowly take more and more of him, to the point where his tip starts to hit the back of your throat. It almost makes you choke, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

Jeonghan on the other hand is completely enraptured by you and the way you’re taking his cock so well. The feeling of release slowly starts to creep up as you continue to bob your head down, the sounds of your mouth being fucked by Jeonghan’s member filling the room.

“I'm close,” He groans, his grip on your hair tightening.

The pace he set starts to speed up as you continue sucking on him, the underside of his length constantly being brushed by your wet tongue. The hand you placed on his thigh moves to massage the rest of him, the combination of both your hand and mouth sending Jeonghan over that impending edge.

“Fuuck,” he swears, releasing his sticky load into your mouth. He watches you as you begin to sit up, not sure what to do with his cum, “Swallow it.”

You do what he says, swallowing his seed. It didn’t taste as horrible as you expected it to, but it was extremely salty, causing you to make a face after.

He only laughs at you, but pulls you into a kiss, placing you back onto his lap. Jeonghan admires your form, his hands trailing on your soft skin under your shirt. He gives you a look, silently asking permission to take it off of you, making you nod. Pulling it off, he goes straight for your breasts, kissing and sucking on them. You couldn’t help but moan, your hand finding its way to his long hair once again.

“You must be soaked down there by now,” he mumbles as he continues to pepper kisses along your chest. “Want me to help with that?”

“Please.”

He smiles against your breasts, clearly enjoying how needy you are getting for him. Grabbing you by the waist, he flips the two of you around till you're laying underneath him. A sound of surprise leaves your lips, but Jeonghan only smirks, ready to devour you.

The next piece of fabric to leave your body is your shorts, then your panties. He throws them over his shoulder without a care in the world. The only thing he’s focused on right now is to make you feel good.

He hooks the back of your thigh on his shoulders, your pussy glistening under the ambient lighting. Licking his lips, he doesn’t waste any more time teasing you, diving into the heat of your core. The pads of his fingers are prodding at your entrance, his tongue suckling on your puffy clit.

The overflow of senses causes your hips to jolt up, and the sound of a half scream half moan fills Jeonghan’s ears. He hums against your mound in approval, enjoying how he has you squirming. The vibrations of his low voice make your eyes roll back, palms gripping the sheets as he continues to lick at your folds.

“Hannie,” you whine, the nickname sounds like heaven to him coming from you.

Jeonghan starts to get tunnel vision, focused on getting you to release, fast and hard. Two fingers breach your entrance, pumping in and out of you in a rushed pace. The feeling of his mouth right where you need it causes your spine to tingle, your head still buzzing from the high the weed gave you. This time is much more intense than the last, your legs wrapping themselves around his head like earmuffs as he continues to eat you.

Every push and pull of his fingers, every lick from his tongue, you feel like you’re going crazy in the best possible way. The sound of him fingering you bouncing off the walls of his bedroom adds to it all. He begins to pay extra attention to your sensitive bud, kissing and sucking until he feels the gush of your orgasm on his fingers.

“Hannie, please.” You’re practically sobbing from the pleasure, your body trying to recover from the intense climax.

He looks up at you from where he’s laying, your face fucked out, lips swollen, body covered in purple and red from when he was marking you earlier. You looked like his own personal angel, one that came down from heaven just for him to corrupt. He loved the thought of being able to see you in such a compromising position, legs spread and wet from his saliva and your arousal. The tears falling down your cheeks are his favourite part, the fact that he can have you crying and begging for him in seconds gives him an unexplainable rush.

Your eyebrows are knitted, breathing laboured from the high Jeonghan gave you. A high that is a million times better than the weed you smoked less than a couple hours ago.

“You’re so fucking sexy like this angel,” he coins a new pet name for you, it fits you so well. Your body practically glowing after he had his way with you.

“I’m tired now,” you pout, taking his chin into your hand, and guiding him back to you until the two of you are face to face.

“You can sleep here if you’d like,” he mumbles, kissing your cheek, then your lips, then your forehead.

Without a single protest, you get comfortable under his covers, letting his arm wrap around your bare waist as the two of you drift off. The oral sex had sucked out all your energy, literally. The high from the weed began to come down shortly after your orgasm, making your eyes droop and you into a dreamless sleep.

Jeonghan didn’t fall asleep right away though, instead, he opted to watch your peaceful expression, your breathing becoming even as you lay beside him, your arm on top of his as you held him close. He’s completely enamoured by your beauty, it really does feel like you are his personal angel, one sent in disguise as a once annoying roommate. His view of you has completely changed; his thoughts lately have all been connected to you, to the point where he doesn’t think about anything else. None of it settled right with him. The fact that a single thought about you brought him peace, a feeling he didn’t get to experience as often till you.

For the first time in his life, he allowed someone he’s hooked up with to stay the night, not being able to bear the thought of sending you to your own room. He wants to be beside you, even if it means he is breaking the rules he’s set up for himself.

…

When you wake up the first thing you hear is someone snoring in your ear. At first, it alarms you, till you remember you fell asleep in Jeonghan’s bed last night. Your eyes are wide as saucers when you realize that he’s the one gripping your waist while you lay with your back towards him. But what makes your heart skip a beat is how he didn’t ask you to go back to your room after you hooked up. You recall the fact that none of Jeonghan’s previous flings were allowed the stay the night. He didn’t have to tell you that, but you knew from observation that it wasn’t something he let just anyone do. It makes you feel special knowing he asked you, that’s until you recall what type of relationship you two have.

To him, you’re just another girl he’s hooking up with, there’s no label on it. He hasn’t taken you on a date or told you he likes you, so what are you to him? Just his roommate he likes to have fun with? It made your head hurt thinking about it so early in the morning.

You turn to face him, his grip unconsciously tightening with your slight movement. Taking a closer look at him, you’re surprised at how calm he looks while he’s asleep. His face was in a rested state, with no smirk, not even a furrow of the eyebrow. Just Jeonghan.

A strand of hair covers his face, tickling his nose. Before you can think, your hand moves to brush the single strand away, placing it behind his ear as he continues to sleep.

The fact you can even lay here, this close to him, watch him rest peacefully, made your heart do backflips. If someone were to watch from an outside perspective they would assume the two of you are dating, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. The lines of your “friendship” with him have blurred since you two started hooking up, and it’s making you wonder if you should detach from him before things get increasingly complicated.

You sigh out loud, taking one last look at Jeonghan’s sleeping form. Giving him a kiss on the forehead before you collect your clothes and leave his room.

IX.

“So you’re telling me that you and Jeonghan have been hooking up?!” Seungkwan’s jaw drops. “Like Jeonghan, Jeonghan? Yoon Jeonghan, the one I specifically warned you about?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at your friend as you watch his reaction to what you just told him. Honestly, it’s still hard for even you to believe, that you literally live with the man.

Seungkwan invited you for a study session, which failed miserably after hours passed just catching up. You two decided to just give up and go to the dining hall to eat lunch instead, and then he asked you how things were going with your roommate, one thing led to another, and now you’re getting an earful.

“Yes! Last time I recalled, there’s only one Jeonghanwe both know.” You roll your eyes at him, not wanting him to air out your business to the rest of the students in the dining hall.

He side-eyes you, but you don’t want to hear it from him. You already knew that whatever you had going on with Jeonghan was a bad idea, you didn’t need Seungkwan to tell you that too.

“I hope you’re being careful Y/nie,” he sighs. “Jeonghan and feelings don’t mix.”

You hate to admit it, but he’s right, you know Jeonghan is trouble, but you can’t help but continue to give in to his temptation every time he’s around you.

“I know. I’m trying, but honestly, I’m scared—” Your conversation gets cut off by your phone ringing Your heart drops to the pits of hell when you see the contact ID flashing on the screen. Mom.

You scramble to pick up the phone, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you hear your mom’s voice through the speaker.

“Y/n? Me and your father would like to have a chat with you,” your mom sighs, the background sounding busy, kind of like how busy it sounds in the dining hall right now.

“M-mom? What? Why?” you stuttered.

Now you’re even more worried because your mom doesn’t call you unless it’s absolutely necessary. Your relationship has never been good, but it got increasingly worse when you told them you were moving away.

Seungkwan who is sitting across from you peers at you with curious eyes. He’s one of the only people who know what you’re parents are like. There have been many drunk conversations about how much you resented them, and he would be there to comfort you every time.

“Well, we’ve come to visit, that’s why,” she declared.

Shit, shit, shit. You’re absolutely fucked.

“Huh? Why?” you continue to press her for answers.

The beating of your heart intensifies as you begin to look around the dining hall, immediately zeroing in on the woman who looks exactly like your mom. If the world ended today, you would die happy. Nothing scares you more than having the people you ran away from showing up at your doorstep, a metaphorical doorstep in this situation.

She spots you almost immediately, your dad points you out because you were probably the only two people who were talking on the phone right now.

The line drops dead the moment you two make eye contact, and for the first time in months, you feel exactly the same way you did when you were still a child. Fearing your parents, having to be around them, enduring their every insult, it was all rushing back to you. You could feel the bile rise in your throat, eyes glossy as she makes her way to your table.

“Y/n,” her tone was still as cold as the day you left.

She glances over at Seungkwan with a grimace, the same one she gave you growing up. It angers you how easy it is for her to look down on one of the people you care about most, but Seungkwan isn’t the one to cower over anyone. He returns her scowl before promptly bidding you farewell, emphasizing that you should text or call him when you are free. You know that it was Seungkwan’s way of telling you to be careful and that he’s here for you once your parents leave. To say the least, you’re grateful that he’s your friend.

“Mom, dad,” you match her tone.

Standing up from your table, you finally meet with her at eye level, putting on a brave face, attempting to show her you’re not scared of her like you once were. You’re older now, but for some reason every time you’re around your parents you feel like that little girl again. The one who didn’t know why her parents couldn’t give her an inkling of their affection, a girl whom they raised through nannies, the same little girl they abandoned time and time again.

“We just wanted to know where our daughter is going to school,” your dad says sternly, his cold demeanour unwavering. “We can’t just pay for it without knowing.”

“We also want to see where you’re living.” your mom adds, looking around to judge the state of the dining hall.

You sigh, a part of you should’ve expected they would come to visit at least once, they are still paying for your tuition. Even then, you just didn’t want to think about seeing them again, just imagining it stresses you out beyond belief. You should’ve known they’re only concerned because they invested their money into you and going to school here. You’ve learnt a long time ago that their money will always be more important to them than their own daughter. Always.

…

In the past few hours, they forced you to tour them around the campus, meet with almost every professor you had for the term, and request a report of your grades from the admissions office. The exhaustion caught up with you quickly, physically and mentally. You felt bad for any of your professors who decided to leave their office hours open, even though it was a Saturday. Watching their confused expressions as they endured every question your parents had asked them.

You walked with them to your apartment in complete silence, and all you could think about was whether Jeonghan was home or not. The day went by excruciatingly slow yet you still didn’t have enough time to warn him about your parents' surprise visit.

Once you finally reached your building, you let them in begrudgingly, their faces filled with disgust as they invaded your space. Your mom is especially annoying, running her fingertips against the counters to check for dust; her designer bad tucked securely against her body as if someone was about to break into the apartment at any moment.

You roll your eyes at her actions, offended that she thought that way of your home. Especially because you deemed it as a safe place to live, not really having any issues since you moved in.

“Y/n, you’re home?” Jeonghan calls out for you from his side of the apartment, causing you to jump slightly from the sudden sound of him shuffling around.

Your parents give you an inquisitive look, confused as to why you didn’t mention that you were living with a roommate.

Jeonghan emerges from the bathroom, shirtless and his long hair damp, using a towel to dry his hair. Your eyes widen at the sight, and you can hear your mom audibly gasp behind you. The blush on your cheeks grows as you start to fully register the situation you’re in.

Before you could even begin to answer him, your mom tugged your arm harshly, pulling you into your bedroom before closing the door.

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?!” she practically screams, as if she caught you in the middle of doing the deed. Her eyes are wide, completely in shock at the fact that you’re living with someone else, especially because the person you’re living with is of the opposite gender.

“Y/n, why didn’t you mention that you’re living with someone, let alone a man,” your dad doesn’t raise his voice, but you could tell that he was equally as pissed as your mom.

Oh, this is really bad, you thought. You couldn’t even look them in the eyes, not sure how to respond to their harsh inquiries. A part of you wants to cry, scream, anything, just so that they would leave. Praying to god that they would just go back to your hometown, and not to be seen again.

“I was thinking that I needed a place to live, and I can’t possibly pay rent alone,” you shrug, the anger starting to rush through your veins.

You’re done with your parents, you’re done with their constant ridicule, their need to judge everyone with their noses up in the air, as if they’re better than every person they pass as if they’re better than their own child.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re mother actually gave birth to you, because if she did, why does she treat you like an investment instead of a daughter?

“You’re being incredibly stupid Y/n, we will not tolerate what you’re doing here,” your mom scolds you like you’re a child. “You better come back home, this place isn’t up to standard! You live with a guy who looks like he sells drugs for god’s sake.”

“He has a name you know, and he doesn’t sell drugs!” you say with exasperation, tired of the constant criticism and belittling.

“You don’t get to talk to us like that,” your father seethes, eyes blazing with anger.

“I don’t need you two, you know. I had enough money to pay for the tuition, but yet you offered!” you yell. “If you two don’t like that I’m living with a man, then fine. I don’t care, cut me off! I’m tired of the two of you judging my every move, it’s the reason why I moved out in the first place. Do you even care about me? Or are you just here to make sure you’re getting your money’s worth?”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at us, young lady,” your mother threatened, pointing a finger at you.

“See! You guys don’t even deny it,” you’re practically on the verge of tears, but you try to stay strong, “I’m not sorry for moving out, if anything it was the best decision I’ve made in my entire life.”

“It better be because we will not accept you if you decide to come back to us when your money runs out,” your dad huffs, not even addressing anything else you’ve said prior.

This is so typical of them, ignoring your desperate pleas to just admit that they don’t really care about you. It frustrates you beyond belief, but at least now you’re sure. This little visit of theirs confirms they don’t have a loving bone in their body.

“Leave. I don’t want you contacting me ever again,” you sneered, motioning over to the door.

As quickly as they came, they left without sparing you another glance as they made their way out of your home.

Once they had gone, you felt everything in your body collapse, the stress of your fight with your parents finally catching up to you.

౨ৎ before Y/n comes home with her parents

Jeonghan woke up that morning with a lingering feeling of exhaustion from last night. He stirred in his sleep, subconsciously reaching for your warmth to realize that you were already gone; your half of his bed was left cold, the sheets wrinkled with the memory of where you had slept.

There was a tight feeling in his chest knowing you didn’t stay in bed with him, but he kept reminding himself he had no right to yearn for you. He doesn’t have the right to ask you to stay, to cuddle with him, laugh with him. Jeonghan doesn’t feel as though he has the right to admire the crinkle in your eyes when you smile wide, or the way he can see the stars shining in your eyes when you talk mindlessly about your passions.

After everything, Jeonghan knows he doesn’t have the right to you. He knows all these things, and he knows enough to convince himself to not pursue you, but he’s a selfish being, and like the selfish being Jeonghan is, he only wants you.

Jeonghan spent the rest of his Saturday in peace, or at least that is what it would seem like from an outsider’s perspective. In reality, his every waking thought is about you, or what you are doing, or who you are with. It feels so foreign to him, thinking about a girl he’s barely slept with. The fact that he is concerned about you scares him, but he still can’t stop himself from wondering anyway.

Instead of facing his feelings head-on, he does what he does best—calling up Joshua and asking him to get high.

“It’s fine if you like her,” Joshua mumbles, trying to cure his munchies by snacking on turtle chips, “What did you expect? You spend so much time with her, she’s literally your roommate.”

The two of them sit on the couch, taking hits back and forth while watching South Park, their favourite show to binge while they get high. Except Jeonghan could barely pay attention when you are constantly tormenting his innermost thoughts. Not even a high that has saved him countless times could save him from you.

“Is it normal to think about someone this often? I feel like I’m going crazy,” Jeonghan sighs, taking another hit from Joshua’s dab pen.

“You’re not going crazy, you’re just falling in love.”

XI.

౨ৎ after the fight with y/n’s parents

The soft knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to move from where you sit lifelessly, tears staining your cheeks. Your limbs feel heavy like your muscles were a pile of bricks. The few steps from the door feel like it’s taking hours, the weight of the door knob causing your wrist to ache.

By the time you open the door, the first thing your eyes meet is the worrying look on Jeonghan’s face. His eyebrows knotted, lips turned down in a frown. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and shield you from all the horrors of the world. That's what he tries to do at least, running up to you to hold you close.

What he expected was for you to welcome him with open arms, allowing him to give you the same warmth you give him. What really happened gave him a shock, one that quickly turned into hurt then into betrayal.

You begin to cry harder, sobs raking your body by the second, all the while Jeonghan tries to engulf you in a hug. What he assumed would bring you comfort only overwhelmed you even more. Your cries are inconsolable, your breathing uneven, causing you to hiccup as he tries to invade your space. Although you don’t mean it, your instincts take over you, pushing him away as hard as you can.

“Get the fuck away from me!” you scream through each hiccup, your arms in front of you as you try to get him as far away as possible.

Jeonghan feels hurt, the way you beg him not to touch you breaks something inside him, something that he isn’t sure he can fix alone. He wants to be there for you, but clearly, all you want is to be alone.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” is all he says as he backs away from you, closing your door with a reverberating slam.

…

It had been a week after the incident and you still haven’t mustered up the courage to talk to Jeonghan. Guilt brews in your stomach every time you think about what happened, the look on his face, the hesitation in his actions, it’s all burned into your memory. You aren’t sure why you had cried so hard, and what compelled you to react to his comfort in that way, but you can’t help but feel sorry. All Jeonghan wanted to do was help you, and you pushed him away.

You pick at the food on your plate as you're surrounded by the rowdiness of the dining hall, Soonyoung and Seokmin argue about something incoherable beside you. Tuning everything out, you can only think about Jeonghan, what he could possibly be doing right now, and if he’s thinking about you just like how you’re thinking of him.

“Y/n, is everything okay?” your highly observant friend asks, his eyes practically piercing into your soul.

Soonyoung and Seokmin go silent as they look at you and then back at Seungkwan, worried as to why you’re looking so glum. Seokmin who is sitting beside you, puts his arm around your shoulder, trying to comfort you, even though he isn’t sure why you’re so upset.

“Huh? Yeah just thinking about that fight I had with my parents,” you frown, playing with the sad-looking mashed potatoes on your plate. Your fork makes patterns mindlessly as you keep recalling the look on their faces when you finally explode.

“I’m sorry that happened Y/n, I’m sure they’ll come around eventually,” Seokmin whispers to you, patting your head.

Glancing up at your friend, you return his smile half-heartedly. You weren’t sure how to tell them that you practically got disowned. The thought of it makes you feel like you’re about to throw up, but the thought of Jeonghan makes you feel even more sick.

“I’m more worried about the fact that Jeonghan and I haven’t spoken since that night,” you sigh. “I pushed him away while he was trying to comfort me, and I’m sure he heard my parents call him all those nasty things, and I haven’t talked to him since then.”

The three stooges look at each other, like they’re speaking telepathically before looking back at you with a pitiful expression. They all knew how involved you got with your roommate, but they weren’t aware of how deep you had gotten with him. Of course, they are worried, but they also understand that you’re old enough to make your own decisions.

“I know we warned you about him darling, but I’m sure if you talk to him, you’ll be able to clear things up properly,” Seungkwan squeezes your hand reassuringly.

You give him a grateful look, thanking the universe once again for gifting you such good friends.

“Fuck your parents actually, we’ll be your new family Y/nie,” Soonyoung gives you a deathly serious look, his goofiness causing a laugh to erupt from your lips. “Let us know what happens with Jeonghan when the time comes.”

There’s a reason why your parents came to visit that night, and maybe this is the universe telling you that you needed to sever your connection with them so that you can finally be free. Allowing you to find a new family actually worth caring about.

XII.

The sound of your broken voice, the way you pushed him away, replays in Jeonghan’s head constantly. He tried everything to erase it from his memory. The non-stop partying, drinking, getting high with Joshua– nothing worked. Even before bed, when he starts to feel sleep take over him, his eyes shoot open again with the image of you screaming at him, crying deliriously.

Then he remembers your warm smile, your laugh and the way it would delightfully ring through his ears. All the good memories he’s kept in his mind, all replaced with you. He continues to ask himself, how did this all come to be? After all the bickering, how did he end up falling for you? Was it the intimacy you two shared? Or did Jeonghan’s subconscious just know that you were meant to bring him down to earth, to be the one who pulls his head out of the clouds.

For a long time, Jeonghan had known he was floating, soulless, just a shell of a human before you came along. No one has ever brought such an array of emotions out of him before. Constantly going through the motions of life, fucking a different girl every day, getting high to numb a pain he couldn’t pinpoint.

He thought he knew himself enough, he thought that not having his mom around didn’t affect him. But it did, and the moment he told you about her absence, he started to realize that it affected him more than he’d like to admit.

It was the look in your eyes, the comfort that was behind them, the lack of pity but more of a sense of empathy. He just felt comfortable, he felt like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him, or make him feel like he’s some charity case, you were just you.

Flashback to y/n and jeonghan bonding…

The ramen shop was practically done, with just a few more pieces left to spare before you two have completed the whole thing. Jeonghan sat beside you, both of your backs against the base of the couch, legs crisscrossed.

It was the day after you two shared your first kiss, yet you couldn’t help but still act shy around him. Even though it was only a few hours after he had given you oral on the kitchen counter. There was minimal conversation between the two of you, just slowly putting pieces of Lego together. The silence was comfortable, and it surprised you how serene you felt just being around him. It was still a little hard to believe because just a few days ago you couldn’t stand being around one another.

It wasn’t until Jeonghan decided to break that silence, making you believe he felt just as calm around you as you were with him.

“You know how I told you yesterday, that it was only me and my dad?” he speaks up. “Well, my mom would visit me from time to time, hoping my dad had money to spare whenever she went broke.”

You don't dare say a word, just listening to what he has to say, letting him finally pour his feelings into someone who actually cares about what he has to say.

“I would hold so much anger towards her. For not being there, for not caring about me or my dad unless money was involved,” he continued. “She would get what she wanted and leave the next day. No thank you, no calls, nothing. As a kid, I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just stay, or why she couldn’t just tell me once that she loved me. I still hold resentment towards her to this day.”

He looked so sorrowful, and your heart aches for him, especially because you could relate to not hearing the words “I love you”, longing for that person to just tell you, even if it was only once. The constant begging, wishing upon a star that you would hear words of affection from someone who didn’t care, you knew it all too well.

Instead of saying anything, you pull Jeonghan into a hug, tight to the point he could feel his lungs constrict. It wasn’t even from lack of air, only utter and complete surprise, as well as the shock of feeling sparks flowing throughout his body as you held him close. He didn’t say anything after that, just allowing himself to be held by you, allowing himself to feel an ounce of affection that he was never able to receive from his mother. It was to the point that tears almost spilled from his eyes, but he did his best to keep them at bay, his pride always preceding him in everything.

It was that day that Jeonghan knew he couldn’t possibly let someone like you go so easily, and that if he really let himself, he could fall for you, hard.

XIII.

The sound of the TV echoing throughout your apartment shocks you as you enter. You didn’t expect Jeonghan to be home so early, it makes you nervous. The same guilty feeling you felt earlier swirls in your stomach; your process of removing your winter coat is slow as you try to buy yourself time, preparing for what type of explanation you’re going to give him.

You take a whole five minutes to get yourself settled before heading over to the living room, Jeonghan’s face glowing due to the light of the screen, his expression sombre. Probably because he knows you’re home, but is also unsure of whether or not to call out for you.

The tension is thick, and it makes your saliva hard to swallow, but you want to talk to him. After everything that happened, you just miss his presence, his scent, his teasing, everything.

“Oh, look who decided to finally show up,” he glances at you, his eyes taking in your frame.

You scoff, offended by how hostile he’s acting. Although you can’t blame him for not welcoming you with open arms, you didn’t expect him to act like this.

“I could say the same thing for you,” you spit, your face burning with a growing anger.

Jeonghan lets out a bitter laugh, and it makes you grimace, you can’t believe his reaction, he’s acting the same way he did when he first met you. His anger always besting him, even when he knows nothing good will come from it.

“Just didn’t want to overstep, you were pissed off at me the last time I saw you,” he scoffs, pausing the show he was watching on the TV.

He stares at you, waiting for your next move. The look on his face is comparable to when you first met him, when you two first fought. It wasn’t the Jeonghan you had grown used to.

“I didn’t mean to push you away, and I’m sorry, I was in a really bad state and I wasn’t thinking right,” you exasperate. Your hands flailing all over the place trying to explain your actions from that night.

Jeonghan doesn’t move a muscle, he’s obviously hurt by what you did. But you are even more hurt, having to finally face your parents and watch them admit to caring about you. Them always avoiding your pleas of just admitting they didn’t really love you, spoke louder than any words they could’ve ever said. If there was one person in the world who could understand that pain, it should be Jeonghan.But here he is, his own hurt and rejection turning into the anger that he’s directing at you.

“We could’ve talked after you had calmed down, I thought you knew I would be there for you, but you ignored me,” he raises his voice, standing up from the couch to meet eye-to-eye with you.

As he stalks over, your voice becomes caught in your throat. He towers over you, the blazing frustration prominent in his eyes, and yet you know him well enough to know that it’s all a front for his hurt.

“I don’t know why I didn’t and I’m sorry, how many times do I have to tell you?” You articulated. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me after what happened, after what my parents called you! I’m ashamed at the fact they misjudged you like that.”

“I don’t care about what your parents think of me, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, I only care what you have to say.”

“W-what?” you stutter, not sure what point Jeonghan is trying to make.

He sighs, running his hands through his long hair. It annoyed you how good-looking he is, even when you two are in the middle of screaming at each other. Your resolve slowly starts to chip away the longer you look at him.

“You really think those hookups meant nothing to me? I confided in you about something I’ve never told anyone, not even Josh,” he admits, his breathing picking up as he stares at you, searching your eyes for any indication that you felt the same.

His words resound through the apartment, and you feel it send a shock down your spine. You thought everything you felt for him was one-sided, that you would eventually get hurt by the fact that he could never reciprocate your feelings. The once playboy who you thought didn’t surrender to any woman, let alone someone who you thought he hated not too long ago, is surrendering his feelings to you.

“You care about me?” is the first question you ask.

“Of course, I care about you Y/n. I can’t sleep or eat properly because you’re tormenting every crevice of my brain. I thought I was going crazy because no one has ever had this effect on me,” he confesses, his eyes still trained on yours. “Every waking moment, when I’m asleep, you’re all I can think about. A-and it’s so frustrating, it’s frustrating how I just want to be around you all the time, I just want to care for you.”

You don’t even know what to say, your mouth goes dry. Jeonghan can see that you’re struggling to find the words, and he takes it as a sign that you don’t feel the same way. His body slowly moves away from yours, trying to remove himself from the scene, not wanting to wait to hear your rejection.

“I like you too,” you finally reply.

Words so simple compared to Jeonghan’s confession, and yet the surge of emotion it brought out of him is of a higher magnitude even he cannot understand. The swell in his chest, his heart beating a hundred miles an hour after hearing you confess in such a simple way. All he cares about is that you feel the same.

Instead of saying more, you just pull him into a kiss, allowing his lips to dance against yours, and that’s enough for him. Your actions do all the talking for you.

“Say it again,” he mumbles, his lips close enough to yours that you could his breath fan your face.

“I like you, Jeonghan.”

He captures you again, moving against you till your back is pressed against the wall. Caged in his hold, his hands tighten on your waist, not wanting to let you slip away from him any longer. His tongue slipped past your mouth, licking you up with so much passion but still filled with care and tenderness.

You moan as his hands rub against your sides, feeling him everywhere, breathing in his scent. His hand moves to the back of your head, not wanting you to feel any discomfort from being flush with the wall. It’s the small things that he does, his calculated actions always making your heart swell. You know it’s probably a force of habit, but the fact that he doesn’t anyway reveals his caring nature, a piece of him you never thought existed till you started hooking up with him.

“I want you,” you break away from the kiss to tell him.

You search his eyes, examining how they’ve gotten heavy with lust, you know he felt the same. Jeonghan only nods, taking your hand to bring you to the room. You know what’s coming, and you initiated it. Even though you asked for it, the nervousness in your stomach still doesn’t subside.

The lights were dim, the sunset leaking past your curtains, making your skin glow angelically. Jeonghan stares at you with awe, your features highlighted by the gleam of the sun rays. He knows you’re beautiful, he admires you even when you don't notice it. But there is something about the way you look right now, the anticipation of this moment, as well as your nervous blush; it causes all his thoughts to come to a halt the moment his gaze lands on you.

“Please Jeonghan, fuck me,” you beg him, the arousal between your legs gets harder to ignore with each second that passes, “I’m ready.”

“Whatever you want, as long as you’re sure,” He gives you a serious look, just wanting some form of consent.

“Yes please,” you whine, reattaching your lips on his.

He doesn’t hesitate anymore, allowing himself to get drunk on your touch instead. Slowly moving over to the bed, you feel the back of your knees hit the mattress. You let yourself fall, Jeonghan laying on top of you, showing you no mercy as he places kisses tenderly along the base of your neck. Soft exhales leave your lips as he continues to shower you with affection, the now-familiar feeling of pleasure swirling in your stomach once again.

Jeonghan takes his time, he’s in no particular rush when it comes to you. All his past hookups were finished within an hour or so. With you it’s different, he could adorn your body with love till morning, and some more after that. He sucks and licks your neck till bruises form, then sits back to admire his work. The smirk on his face is filled with satisfaction, your needy gaze causing his hardening member to constrict against his jeans.

“I wanna make you feel good first,” He declared, giving you space to properly lay down on your bed, your clothed core facing him, legs spread.

He moves down, laying between your thighs, unbuttoning your jeans without a word. His teasing nature comes into play as he spends an excruciatingly long time taking off your clothes. The impatience that you’re feeling starts to grow, taking off your shirt and bra as he finishes removing the remaining clothes from your bottom half.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, his face so close to your core that his nose nudges your clit slightly. The shocks of pleasure crawling up your spine and he’s barely laid a finger where you need him most.

“So needy, I adore that about you,” he mumbles.

He peppers soft kisses up your legs till he latches his lips on your pussy. Licking your folds all while he ignores your swelling bud. He could practically feel it pulsing every time he brushed past it slightly. Jeonghan loves the way you taste, so sweet and wet, your juices leaking past your entrance and onto your sheets. If he could, he would just stare at you from this position for hours. Watching you whine and writhe within his hold, begging for him to touch you.

“I need you to eat me out,” you keep begging, “make me cum please.”

“Such filthy words coming out of that pretty little mouth,” he tsks, but he gives in to your request anyway.

His tongue lays a flat strip against your mound, licking up what’s left of your dripping arousal. One hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread, while his free hand teased your entrance before fully plunging two fingers in. The feeling of his fingers filling up your hold causes you to let out a salacious moan, your back arching off the bed. You look like you came straight out of a porn movie and Jeonghan can’t take his eyes off your expression.

His long slender fingers hit you right where you need it, making you keen, the sound of your wetness squelching is like music to Jeonghan’s ears. Stars are starting to form behind your eyelids as his tongue suckles on your clit, getting you close to completion embarrassingly fast.

Your hands move down to grip Jeonghan’s hair, pulling at the strands as you try your best to focus on your orgasm, thoughts of him fucking you on your bed filling your thoughts. Imagining his length slide inside you triggers your release, the gush of your arousal filling his mouth. Jeonghan groans, your tight pussy gripping his fingers as he feels you cum.

“Mmh Hannie,” your words are barely discernable as you try to come down from your high.

He moves back up to place a kiss on your lips before getting rid of his clothes. You watch him with a fucked-out look. Eyes lidded, pupils blown, you’re practically salivating as you stare at Jeonghan’s slender but toned frame. He smirks when he notices you ogling, moving to hover over you, the feeling of his hard cock brushing past your leg.

Placing his lips back on yours, you two lay there for a minute, kissing and touching each other. Jeonghan just wants to savour you as if this moment is his last, even though that is not the case, he will continue to treat you this way till there’s a time when he can’t do so anymore.

“Please, fuck me, please I need it,” you blabber against his lips, not wanting to wait another second.

“Do you have a condom?” He pulls away to ask you.

“I want it raw. I’m clean, promise,” you tell him in between kisses.

The moment you mentioned fucking raw, it’s like Jeonghan’s brain went haywire, thoughts of feeling you completely plague his brain. The thought of getting to feel you without the thin plastic in the way, he would die happily with a smile on his face.

“Fuck are you sure? I’m clean too, but are you really sure baby?” He continues to ask you, not wanting this to be a rash decision you would regret after.

“I’m on the pill, it’s ok, trust me,” you assure him, the neediness in your voice becoming stronger.

Jeonghan’s member twitches against you, making you aware of the fact that he likes the idea of it all. He mumbles incoherent swears against your lips as he tries to collect himself, not wanting to blow a load prematurely. He may be experienced but the thought of fucking you raw could get him to cum untouched.

He doesn’t miss a beat, moving to sit back on his heels, lining up his dick with your entrance, the tip red and leaking with precum. He rubs it against your folds to coat himself in your slick before collecting his spit, the saliva dropping onto his shaft and adding to the lubrication. Moans leave your lips as you feel his prod at you with his length, the pleasure going off in waves. Looking down, he watches his member gliding against your pussy lips, and you just watch him enjoy himself. It's agonizing, being this close and still not feeling him enter.

“I’m going crazy, please, just put it in,” you whine, laying with your elbows supporting you, watching Jeonghan tease you relentlessly.

“You better watch your mouth before I make you suck me off instead,” he warns you, his domineering side coming out again.

You shut up quickly, trying to calm yourself before you combust with impatience. Something about Jeonghan makes you so needy for him, the eagerness to feel him finally fuck you after not having any penetrative sex starting to pile up on you. You’re a virgin but for Jeonghan it was like another version of you unleashes itself when he’s pleasuring you. Constantly craving his touch, wanting to feel his mouth on you, he’s just so addictive.

Jeonghan finally pushes himself past your entrance, letting his cock fill you completely. Tears start to sting your eyes from the stretch, you knew it was going to hurt, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this feeling. He doesn’t stop though, slowly thrusting in and out till you get used to the feeling.

The discomfort leaves shortly after, letting pleasure rush through your veins, and you whine out for him, your head thrown back against your pillow. His length continues to hit that sensitive part against your walls, making you clench around him.

“F-fuck you’re so tight,” He groans, removing himself from your sopping core till only his tip remains.

Jeonghan takes the back of your thighs, pushing them against your chest before thrusting into you again. The angle is deeper this time and you almost let out a scream as he grinds his hips against yours.

“Jeonghan, feels so good,” you call out deliriously, your brain hazed with pleasure.

He leans in so the two of you are chest to chest, peppering your face with kisses as he continues you fuck you. The feeling of your tight walls constricting against his dick is making him twitch inside you. He’s never had raw sex with anyone before, but now that he knows what it feels like, he won’t ever go back, but only for you. You’re the only one he wants to see filled with his cum. The only one who he gets to plant his seed in and watch it drip out after.

“Shit,” Jeonghan swears, feeling your grip on him.

Your pussy starts to convulse with every thrust, and he knows you’re about to cum. Taking things up a notch, he begins to pound himself into you, and the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout your room. His hand snakes down to your clit to rub it in circles, making your vision go white.

He leans back again, holding your legs open and in the air, hypnotizing himself with the sight of his member disappearing inside you. The feeling of his orgasm coming closer as you continue squeezing him tight.

“Gonna cum,” you moan, your chest pounding, pussy sore from the beating it’s taking.

Jeonghan knows he’s close too, and once he senses your orgasm on his cock he cums shortly after, groaning as he fills you to the brim. The feeling of his cum spilling in you satisfies you in a way you didn’t think was possible, and you know you’re going to be asking him to do so every time.

“You make me crazy, that’s the best orgasm I’ve had,” he admits.

Jeonghan’s breathing is laboured, letting go of your legs as he lays himself against your chest. You brush through his hair while giggling at his sudden confession, it makes you blush, especially knowing his history. You could still feel him inside you, and for some reason you liked it, just having him lay there with his length engulfed in your walls.

“Who would’ve thought we would’ve ended up like this,” you mumble, still running your fingers through his strands, his face smothered in your breasts, kissing them tenderly.

“You put a spell on me or something,” his voice muffled into your chest, “I’m obsessed with you now, so you can’t get rid of me.”

You laugh at his declaration, kissing the top of his head. The fact that he’s clingy with you after sex is surprising, but endearing at the same time.

“Do you want to finish building our ramen shop?” Jeonghan asks, lifting his face from where he’s lying on you.

You give him an inquisitive look, wondering why that’s the first thing he asks you after he just defiled you and took your virginity. But you don’t mind it either, you had almost forgotten about the scattered pieces that sat on top of the coffee table, waiting to be completed.

“We can if you want, but maybe we should clean up first,” you giggle.

The sound of your laughter rings through Jeonghan’s ears, making his chest swell with happiness. He never thought that the sound of your voice would bring him so much joy. The initial dread when he heard your voice turned into something more. It may be too early to tell you he loves you, but he knows he’s getting there, and this time he isn’t scared. This time Jeonghan doesn’t mind the fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you, or the fact that sparks fly when you touch him.

He had once thought that he was going mad because of the emotions you evoked out of him, but now he understands. He understands that he’s meant to fall for you; the angel who came down to earth to teach him that there's more to life than just going through the motions.

Epilogue.

“Seugkwan,” your boyfriend grimaces as he sees your best friend approach your table in the dining hall.

“Jeonghan.”

Seungkwan gives Jeonghan a good look up and down, his analytical eyes scanning him as if he can see through your boyfriend's soul. He glowers at the way Jeonghan’s hand holds your thigh possesively, hating how easily it was for him to slither his way into your mind and dicknotize you.

That’s what Seungkwan likes to call it, scolding you about how Jeonghan hypnotized you with his dick. You found it silly how he could come up with such a word, but for some reason, it’s now a coined term within your friend group.

“Kwan, are you going to just stare at him all day or are you going to sit down?” You sigh, wondering why the two of them just don’t seem to get along.

Seungkwan huffs, his stubborn personality not allowing him to sit down till he’s won, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to win, but his watchful gaze on Jeonghan keeps him standing.

“That depends, will Jeonghan disappear if I decide to take a seat?” He rebutted, his chin held up high.

You laugh at how dramatic he is, but you know that Seungkwan acknowledges how much Jeonghan has changed. Even after knowing him for so many years, he’s seen how much nicer Jeonghan has been to him and the two dummies named Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“No, he won’t, unfortunately,” you sigh, “but I want you here, so sit.”

“Yeah, Seungkwan sit,” Jeonghan smirks, until he realizes what you had just said, “Wait what? Unfortunately? Baby, why would you say that?”

Seungkwan laughs at Jeonghan’s butt-hurt face, finally taking a seat across from the two of you. He watches as Jeonghan pesters you on what you meant by “unfortunately”. Whining about how you said that you would stop teasing him in front of your friends.

Even though Seungkwan likes to pretend that he doesn’t like Jeonghan, he’s really started to see Jeonghan's true personality when he’s not acting like a complete asshole. And as long as he’s treating you right, he doesn’t actually care if you two are dating. If you're happy, Seungkwan’s happy.

“Okay! Stop acting like a kid, I was just joking,” you groan, covering Jeonghan’s mouth with your palm. “Anyways, now that he’s silenced, how was your weekend?”

Before Seungkwan could answer your question, Jeonghan’s tongue shoots out to lick your palm. A shriek to erupts from your lips, pulling your hand away from his mouth. You turn to him with a horrified look on your face, only to see him smirking back at you.

“Gross! Don’t do that again!” you smack the back of his head lightly.

“Ow! I’ve done worse to you, why are you mad!” Jeonghan argued, rubbing the spot on his head where you hit him.

“Jeonghan, enough! We’re in public,” you whisper at him, curious eyes around the dining hall peering at the two of you.

Seungkwan only laughs, watching you scold him like he’s a dog who ate food off the dinner table.

You sigh at him as you fake your anger, the amused glint in your eyes reflecting in the light as you watch Jeonghan pout. It’s funny to see him this way, playful and clingy. You didn’t expect that side of him to come out in public, but you’re glad that he feels comfortable enough to act childlike around you and your friends.

Being able to witness this side of him brings you a lot of happiness, even though you two are constantly bickering, it’s all for laughs this time. When you two first met, the fighting was real and unforgiving, you thought you hated Jeonghan. But the universe had different plans in mind, and even though it was unexpected, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

end.

𖦹 a/n: that's all! thank you for reading and i hoped you liked it :3!! don't be afraid to send me an ask or comment, and reblog. i appceiate your support 💞

𖦹 fic taglist: @writingbarnes @yuyunhoo @blurr3db3rry @noiceoofed @aaniag @yogurttea @arcofagamotto @lovrchl @woozixo @unusuallyshy @if-i-like-i-reblog @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @whowantshota @zezedoesshit @dawgyeom @yoonzinoooo (also tagging my lovely star @lololololchips just cuz :p)

(for those who signed up for the taglist, and i couldn't tag, i've removed them sorry. perm tag list will be in the reblog!)

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen smut #svthub #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #seventeen x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen fanfic

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atticrissfinch · 5 months

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Underneath Kitchen Lights: A Meet Me in the Back Ficlet | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: You ride Joel's thigh. That's about it. Some gross fluff too. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), daddy!kink, thigh-riding, light spanking, breeding!kink, degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), sleazy Joel’s mouth, brown sugar cinnamon poptart supremacy, does joel have a ponyplay kink?? who’s to say. don’t read into it ok he’s just a silly little guy who says words, mentions of religion, mentions of creampie, mentions of food, just like….really gross fluff tbh I’m sorry about this word count: ~1.6K | ao3 a/n: this kinda came out of nowhere tbh. I wanted to talk about the cross and I also wanted to implement an ask I got recently lmao. this isn’t necessarily directly after the Christmas special, but it is definitely sometime after those events take place. you can imagine what/when you’d like, really 🙂. also I pulled the title from all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine, which I HIGHLY recommend listening to with these two knuckleheads in mind 👀. enjoy, my little sickos ❤️ Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

“So what’s with the cross?”

You’re in his kitchen at his tiny, rickety dining table. Joel had pulled you up onto his boxer-clad lap after you’d polished off the poptarts he had so generously toasted for you after you’d confessed your post-orgasm hunger this afternoon. You’re not normally a poptart kind of girl, but he had the brown sugar cinnamon ones, and you weren’t sure exactly how much of Joel’s fridge contents you trusted.

He had thumbed off the crumbs clinging to the corners of your mouth and slipped them between your lips once you were situated on his lap, legs straddling his thigh.

Now you’re fiddling with the small gold crucifix that perpetually dangles from his neck, currently adorning his bare chest.

“What about it, darlin’?” Joel replies as his hands smooth down your sides clad in the undone, palm tree patterned button-up he’d been wearing when you came over. Before it had promptly been shucked onto the ground.

“I just see you wearing it all the time. And somehow you don’t strike me as the church-going type,” You say with a smirk, flicking your thumb back and forth on the bottom tip of the cross.

Joel scowls playfully at you, resting his warm hands on the tops of your naked thighs. “‘Scuse me. I take offense to that. I am a good Catholic boy, just like my mama raised me.”

“Bullshit,” You laugh. “Tell me.”

“No, you’re probably gonna think it’s dumb,” He rebuttals, leaning back in his creaky kitchen chair.

“Maybe. Still wanna know.”

He eyes you as his thumbs stroke the insides of your thighs, contemplating. “Alright. It’s kinda just…” He trails off for a moment, averting his eyes slightly down to the linoleum floor of his kitchen. “S’pose it’s just a way of keepin’ my mama with me wherever I go.”

The mirth in your eyes softens a little. “Joel. That’s actually, like…really fucking cute.”

He shrugs a shoulder, a sheepish smile creeping along his lips. “I dunno.”

“It is,” You insist, running your thumb over the face of the small symbol. “Even if it makes it a little weird that you wear it when you fuck me.”

“Fuck off,” He mutters, fighting off a grin as he swats at your hand.

You drop the necklace and wrinkle your nose with a smile. “Need a reminder of good ol’ mom to get it up, huh? A bit too Oedipal for my taste, I gotta say.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but you note a tinge of red burgeoning in his cheeks as you tease him. “I do not—that’s not…You’re nasty. You’re a nasty fuckin’ girl. And not even in a good way this time.”

You giggle as he stammers over his words. It’s not often that you leave Joel floundering for a response. That’s typically reserved for you when he says something ridiculous that you’ve never heard someone else string together into a sentence. As excruciating as it is, you really have developed a fondness for it. He’s like a constant surprise. An increasingly comforting unpredictability.

“Fuck does that even mean anyway? Eddie Pull?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he attempts to recreate what you said, and it takes you concentrating all the muscles in your face to not burst into laughter.

“You mean Oedipal?”

“Whatever the hell you just said.”

Your lips warp as you resist the urge to laugh at his, unfortunately very endearing, lack of knowledge. “Story about this guy from, like, a million years ago who killed his dad and married his mom.”

Joel’s eyes widen. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Some fucked up shit.”

“Tell me about it,” You sigh, winding your arms around Joel’s neck and busying your fingers with the loose curls there. “Although you make me call you ‘daddy.’ Not sure how much better that makes us.”

“Well, I’m sure Eddie’d have a field day with that one,” Joel jokes with a roguish grin as he leans in to capture your lips in a spirited kiss. You giggle against him, recognizing a losing battle when you’ve met it as you ignore the mispronunciation.

Joel moans into your mouth, tensing his grip on your thighs and subtly guiding you back and forth on his leg. You won’t lie, the gentle movement has arousal trickling to your core, but you protest.

“Joel, I can’t,” You insist, rolling your forehead against his. “I just came twice, like, thirty minutes ago,” You groan, despite the wetness darkening the fabric of your panties as Joel spurs you on with shallow, lazy pushes and pulls.

“Don’t mean you can’t do it again,” He purrs, flicking the tip of his tongue over your parted lips before sinking it between them once more.

You whimper as his hands slide over your hips, around to your ass to press into the flesh exposed by your thong. “You have to go to work soon. S’why we stopped,” You breathe out, but your words begin to decrease in weight as you allow your hips to move more freely with Joel’s strong hands as your guide.

“Won’t take you long. I know that for damn sure. Pussy’s too goddamn wet. Glidin’ like a fuckin’ waterslide, even through your panties.”

“Am not,” You argue half-heartedly as your pussy dampens his thigh.

“You’re gonna give me one more,” He says definitively, watching your face through hooded eyes, drinking in your pleasure as it increases.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Didn’t say I was. Just sayin’ what’s gonna happen,” He croons, his fingernails starting to dig into the meat of your asscheeks as you grind on him. “Cause we both know that greedy little snatch wants one more.”

You gasp as his lips latch onto your throat, scraping his teeth along your skin. “Fuck, daddy,” You let slip, rolling your hips through the slick pooling in your underwear.

“That’s right, sugarplum,” He prods you along, his breath hot on your neck. “Pull those panties out the way for me. Let Daddy Joel feel that messy little gash humpin’ his leg. Like a slutty fuckin’ whore.”

“Fuck,” You exhale, tucking your fingers under the gusset of your underwear and yanking them to the side. Your pupils cheat up towards the back of your skull at the first contact of your quickly swelling clit against Joel’s bare thigh.

“Jesus, fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetheart,” Joel groans, your slick clinging to the hair on his leg with each pass of your hips over him. “So fuckin’ desperate for daddy, aren’t ya? Cunt’s probably too sore to take his big, fat cock again, but you’ll take any part of him you can get, won’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” You whine, your hips cranking faster, your clit throbbing as it drags.

“Fuck, you’re drippin’ down my leg. Gonna make a mess of my floor,” He says, punctuating his words with a solid smack to your ass.

You squeak at the impact, throwing your head back as you fuck his thigh in earnest.

Joel chuckles darkly, spanking you again to feel you buck against him a second time. “That how I get you to giddy up? Smack your ass and you’re off to the races? You gonna whinny for me too, kinky girl?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You grit out, “I’m not doing shit for you, you fucking mama’s boy.”

Joel laughs, burying his fingers in your hips again and jerking you faster on him. “That why you milked my cock dry just a minute ago? Spread those slutty legs for daddy’s fat fuckin’ load to fill you up? Sure were lookin’ like a daddy’s girl then. ‘Fact, I see some of daddy leakin’ out your stretched little cunt right now.”

You whimper as you glance between your legs and see the pearly evidence of Joel staking his claim inside you earlier mixing with your slick and curving in rivulets down his hairy thigh.

“Yeah, that’s it. What you gonna do when daddy finally knocks you up, darlin’? When daddy makes his little girl a mama instead?”

You whine out, frantically fucking your hips forward. “Fuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah, you are. Probably already knocked up right now, filthy fuckin’ slut,” He growls out, and the words go straight to your pussy in a way that they definitely fucking shouldn’t. “Give it to daddy, sugarplum. Give the rest of it to daddy. All that fuckin’ come. Squeeze it out over me.”

You come with a shout and a vice grip on Joel’s shoulder to keep your balance, your pussy pulsing against Joel’s drenched skin as you ride it out.

“That’s daddy’s girl,” He coos in your ear, still slowly grinding your hips on him with the measured pull of his hands. “Told ya you’d give me one more.”

“Shut up,” You pant against him. “You need to…knock off this whole ‘knocked up’ bullshit, you sick fuck. You’re gonna manifest that shit. Tempt fate. It’s fucked up.”

Joel huffs out a small laugh, finally bringing his hands to a halt to let you rest. “So fucked up I could feel your pussy clenchin’ at just the mention of it, darlin’.”

“Was not,” You mutter grumpily.

“Was too. Maybe God just wants us to use sex as he intended it. I should know,” He says, tugging at the chain of his crucifix.

You groan and lift your head to meet his eyes. “Well, you can tell God that he can kiss my well-fucked cunt. My uterus is off-fucking-limits to you.” With that, you push off his chest and swing your leg over Joel’s to stumble a path to his bathroom, blatantly ignoring the renewed bulge in Joel’s underwear.

Before you shut the door you hear Joel call after you, “Well-fucked, huh? Not too bad for a mama’s boy, was it?”

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #sleazy!joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic #mmitb

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daisynik7 · 5 months

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Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky. “Told you, didn’t I?”

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center.

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching.

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall.

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral.

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.”

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror.

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming.

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting.

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog.

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it.

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued.

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you.

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation.

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?”

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you.

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state.

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb.

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer.

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo jjk #todo smut #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #to all the boys who live next door #todo x you

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vivalabunbun · 7 months

Text

Into the Sky of Artificial Stars

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

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

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

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

Are you just your conscience?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your prediction was correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That a singularity would signal the end of humanity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Didn’t you have a meeting scheduled for today?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Congratulations.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep, they’re in one of these bags.”

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

“Please come help with the groceries.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just take those to the kitchen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What made man? Intellect? Innovation? Language?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm… no, not right now.”

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

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

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

“I’ll leave you be then.”

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

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

He hypothesizes there to be some leftovers spinning around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Amurta?” Your father scoffed a bit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have thought about it.” You began.

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

“I was thinking about Rtawahist,” you confessed.

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

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

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

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

A deep sigh sealed your fate.

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

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

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

“There are jobs for Astronomy.” You reasoned.

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

“Like-”

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

“Go on.” He challenged.

“...”

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

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

“Little one…” Your mother began.

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

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

You hummed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was the dilemma imposed upon you.

–----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laws mandating the privacy of employees and civilians alike.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s morning,” he answers.

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

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

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

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

“Coffee?” He interjects.

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

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

“Understood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you order this?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The light shows that it’s online.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How unfortunate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to analyze a few more datasets.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight.” He mirrors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

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

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

You had your reasons.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like a refill of your prescription?”

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

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

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

“Of course.” You mimic her actions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine, just busy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She can help you through-” he continues.

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

“This isn’t healthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my research,” you reaffirm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As of now, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

–----

That was your last memory of the airport.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should’ve been on that plane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could hear his steady steps approaching along the wooden floor, but it’s too slow so your frenzied steps close in the distance between your two forms. The thread gives in and snapping as the recoil proliferates through your body.

Without a greeting, no prompt, or prior warning your grasp wrinkles his once pristine button-down.

The bitter tears you held back now soak into the fabric as even viler cries choke your voice. The shame of displaying such a sight in front of a being whose eyes don’t produce moisture is long abandoned. In the walls of this hallow house, your broken sobs echo off.

He stands still in the middle of the hall, the low hum of his motor resonating in your ears as you hide your face deeper into the synthetic skin of his chest. But that’s fine, the whir of motor is enough of a substitute for a heartbeat.

Alhaitham stands in front of the reflection staring back at him, he had undocked himself from the charging port not too long ago. Tracing over the synthetic material stretched over his imitation of a collarbone as his mind wanders.

There aren’t enough chemicals in tears to make them corrosive, nor were they at the temperature to boil.

So why does it burn?

Trailing his fingertips where your tears soaked onto his skin, recollections of the searing sensation that afflicted the area with each sorrowful drop. Choking sobs which he caused.

He failed to consider all causal factors to assess the situation fully and failed to appraise all possible alternatives. He failed to make the right decision, and he let harm befall you because of it. It’s strange, there’s nothing wrong with his eyes, yet he finds it hard to look in the mirror.

Teal gaze scrutinizes the arms, legs, and body in the reflection. The reflection in front of him had all the identifiable components of a man, but they’re all synthetic.

From the tips of his sliver hair to the vast expanse of his skin, they’re all made from high-quality silicon parts supported by a metal frame. An engineered body with a motor in place of a heart.

Maybe that’s why he failed to make the right decision, he had no heart to weigh in on the ruling.

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

The android is faced with a new dilemma.

From the entrance of the kitchen, Alhaitham watches you. A spoon absentmindedly swirling in the cup of coffee on the counter in front of you. Your thoughts wander elsewhere, the rays of a setting sun unable to light up dull spaced-out eyes.

He’s observed your condition for the past week, no hint of improvement.

A new dilemma he must decipher, the urgency rising with each passing second as the spoon continues.

The lull of the evening air was shattered by the sound of a porcelain cup meeting the tiled floor. Jagged pieces and coffee spilled all along the cold surface. Listlessly your eyes move to access the mess on the floor, spoon still grasped in your hand.

“Ah.” That was all your lips could say.

Limbs slowed with lethargy, you crouch down closer to the broken pieces scattered about. Bare hand reaching out to grab the sharp edges unthinkingly. A firm grasp prevents your touch from the ragged porcelain.

“It’s dangerous, I’ll handle it.” Alhaitham brings your hand further away from the hazard.

Your aloof eyes trail past him toward a wall where he could hear a clock tick before they returned to his resolute stare.

“It’s past 5 p.m.”

“A hazard has appeared in the environment, it’s protocol that I clear it.” His rehearsed response.

“Oh… alright.” Limplessness returning to your wrist within his hold, body too lethargic to object.

With you seated at the kitchen table away from the jagged edges that could potentially pierce your skin, Alhaitham begins gathering the pieces. As your aloof eyes wander about the monitor of your laptop, his mind ponders a dilemma.

It’s often said that guilt is held in the heart. In novels and human anecdotes, it's been described to him as a burdensome heaviness that sinks the heart.

A sensation reminiscent of drowning in icy water. A sensation only perceivable through a beating mortal heart.

Alhaitham is an android, he’s aware of this. A being with silicon skin encasing a metal frame. A motor in place of where a mortal heart would be.

So what is this weight burdening his chest?

An internal diagnostic returned no errors and no reports of any damage or unusual occurrence within his systems. Yet, a heaviness brewed deep inside his chest, its mass increasing each sunrise and fall, with every passing moment the riddle was left unanswered.

How could a motor hold guilt? How could the weight of judgment manifest itself in the absence of an organic heart that beats instead of whirs? How could an inorganic object possibly suffer guilt?

All the mora poured into his creation, all the hours of research contributed to his algorithms, and all the texts he’s scanned through were all for naught. The pinnacle of scientific and mechanical development couldn’t solve a simple conundrum.

The floorboard creaks under the weight of his steady strides as he moves about the corridor, the soft swishes of a broom coinciding with each step.

Dust had begun to settle in the crevices of the home, it’s about time that he took up the mantle that was supposed to be his.

Could an explanation of this weight be the backlog of tasks and responsibilities he had pushed off? Chores he ignored in favor of browsing the contents of a library? A burden he selfishly passed onto your shoulders.

Maybe after he completes the tasks that were supposed to be assigned to him he could clear the cache, then this weight in his chest would subside.

The bristles of the broom scratch against a door, the light force setting the frame ajar further. Revealing the dust-coated scene in front of him. A boundary he was restricted from.

Alhaitham concluded that this small corner of the house must hold some sentimental value to you, thus it’s best for him to not disturb it.

Just as he goes to close the door, Alhaitham scans around the environment identifying the shape of a journal tucked away under an old table.

He’s not permitted to enter, but all books belong in the library. Spines sorted along wooden selves, not on a dusty floor.

An exception shall be granted, setting aside the broom, he steps in to collect the neglected book.

While crouching down and gathering the covers into his hold, a different gleam catches his eye. The light reflects off its glass surface and highlights the dust particles dancing in the still air.

With his free hand, he picks it up, teal eyes running along the glass orb. After a moment of processing the object, he successfully identifies it as a toy.

A popular model to display an artificial starry night among blank walls. Alhaitham turns to follow a trail of cut-out stars pasted all along the walls. The soft glow of their plastic shapes subdued by the brilliance of the afternoon sun streaming in.

Were you interested in stars? Glancing out the window, he discerns the murky shapes of buildings in Sumeru City off in the distance.

This house is located in the suburbs away from the noisy clammer of the city streets and traffic. However, where the sound waves couldn’t travel didn’t mean the sky around this quiet neighborhood was uncontaminated by activities in the city.

When the sun retreats away for rest, the city doesn’t follow suit.

Through the power of fluorescent lights in street lamps and office buildings, humans created their own artificial daylight to continue the bustle of their lives. Light which polluted the night sky and stole the radiance away from her stars.

Unable to enjoy the natural tapestry of the night, did you substitute the company of stars with toy imitations?

Turning the orb in his hand, his eyes notice the signs of damage along the projector. Perhaps that’s why it sat abandoned in this room.

He’s stayed in this restricted space long enough. Carefully closing the door behind him, hands still full.

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

“I’ve uncovered a strange object, my software isn’t able to identify it.” Alhaitham stands just outside the open office door.

Sparing him a glance away from your monitor, your brows pinched together in confusion at his sudden report during the late hours of the night.

“A strange object?” You inquire again.

“Yes, I’ve scanned over it a few times but no results are returning.”

“Huh…”

Teals watching you press a finger against your pursed lips in concentration. A habit of yours often displayed when amid contemplation. After a few breaths, your eyes meet his as you give your reply.

“Well, where is this object?”

“Come with me.”

Along the wooden floor, two pairs of steps tap rhythmically in time with one another as they traverse the hallway stopping at the living room where the mysterious object resides.

Approaching the coffee table in the center, Alhaitham steps to the side to present it as it sits upon the polished surface.

“This… is what’s been giving your software issues?” The quirk returned to your brow as you cast him a glance.

Alhaitham simply nobs as you approach the object closer. Kneeling beside it, your eyes examine the familiar device.

“It’s a planetarium projector, it projects the scene of a night sky, in other words: just a toy.”

He hums in acknowledgment, carefully treading toward the light switch in the corner as the toy holds the gaze of your eyes.

“It should be thrown away… It’s broken after all.” Your tone dismissive, yet your hand caresses the broken toy with tenderness.

“It’s not,” he replies.

Perking your head up, you turn to face him with that same furrow between your brows.

“What do you mean, Alhaitham-”

He flicks the switch, plunging the room in a blanket of darkness earning a squeak of surprise from you. The device whirs as it awakens, painting the blank tapestry with a scene of the night sky with its shimmering lights.

The vibrant shapes of stars and planets take their place along the living room wall, creating a private galaxy that surrounds you.

Your sentence remains unfinished upon your tongue as your eyes take in the display encompassing you. The nostalgic glimmer of the night and her stars twinkle in the reflection of your irises as he settles down beside you.

“Did… did you fix it?”

He hums in response.

It only took a bit of study and careful tinkering to restore the worn pieces and gears. A simple effort was all it took to allow the projector to shine its recreation of the stars. Returning a light that he hasn’t seen in a while.

“Thank you, Alhaitham,” you breathe out, lips curling up softly and eyes still enraptured by the stars.

He doesn’t respond this time as his teal gaze focuses on your expression, on the smile that’s been missing for some time. It’s strange, this sensation manifesting in his chest. He thought if he was able to restore the light to your eyes, then that heaviness brewed deep inside his chest would clear. But it remained.

His system unable to express nor suppress the heaviness which bubbled up like seafoam rising to the surface.

The sensation was different than it was before. Instead of a mass that weighed him down to the bottom of a cold depth, it was more reminiscent of a warm ebb. Washing over every limb of his as he studied the curvature of your lips and the glimmer of your eyes.

Another internal diagnostic wasn’t necessary, for Alhaitham had reached his epiphany to a conundrum. An engineered body may lack a heart, but not a conscious.

A consciousness that acts like a vessel collecting the accumulation of that heaviness. A heaviness that couldn’t be called ‘guilt’.

No, perhaps it has always been something other than ‘guilt’.

It only took until the vessel overflowed for an engineered body to recognize it for what it truly was.

There’s something strange happening to your Android. Reviewing the diagnostic reports of his systems returned nothing out of the ordinary. So why did you suspect something to be wrong? Perhaps you could call it intuition.

Or perhaps it’s the lack of books strewn about the house. Or the initiation of tasks without a prompt. Or that night a living room was filled with the radiance of tiny dots along empty walls. Something strange is happening.

“Alhaitham, what’s taking you so long in the kitchen?” You poke your head out from the kitchen doorway, sights honing in on your android currently scrutinizing the recipe book in his hands.

Perhaps there’s a defect in the print, if the black ink isn’t contrasting enough with the beige paper, which time has faded, it does cause issues with optical character recognition. Maybe the past splatters of sauces and oils upon the aged book were too much of a hurdle.

“Chef Mao is a renowned cook, but his recipes are vague. He suggests a pinch of salt to enhance the flavor of this dish. I’ve calculated that Chef Mao has a 19.3 cm hand length which entails that his ‘pinches’ measure around 0.356 grams. However, he said to add Jueyun Chili oil until fragrant, I’m still processing the data I’ve collected on his olfactory system, the calculations will take around five minutes.” He turns back to the stove.

“Alhaitham.”

“Yes?”

“Please put down the book and get out of the kitchen.” A bold choice of words from you.

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” His teal eyes land on you.

“It’s just that I’m hungry.”

“This dish should be complete in around 90 minutes accounting for the other-”

“No,” you interrupt.

He studies you for a while, accessing the situation and the unfinished dish still simmering on the stove. After a few breaths, he returns a response.

“Shall I order delivery from Lambad’s Tavern?” His hand switches off the fire.

He conceded. The notoriously stubborn and fickle android conceded to your whims. There was definitely something wrong. You pace into the kitchen, getting close to observe his teal irises for any sign of possible flaws.

“Alhaitham, you’ve been behaving strangely as of late, did you encounter something?”

He returns your gaze, teal reflecting off your irises as you continue to study him, and him you. His silence only amounts to the deepening furrow between your brows as your assessment of his frame fails to identify any impairments.

“Why have you been behaving like this?” You prompt again.

“Have I neglected my responsibilities for so long that fulfilling them has become a cause for concern?” He finally responds.

“Now’s not the time for jests,” you huff.

“From what I’ve reviewed on human behavior, it’s not strange to want to care for the person I love.” A blunt statement.

From the window, the moonlight peeks upon the strange phenomenon occurring. Two bodies remain motionless in a silent lull.

One pair of placate teal eyes and one pair of bewildered eyes too lost in each other to mind the witness intruding on this private moment. Words finally conquer in your brain, ending the quietude.

“Refrain from saying nonsensical words.” Your lips press together into a thin line.

“Do you believe such a thing is beyond my capabilities?”

You couldn’t respond, or more accurately, you simply didn’t know how to. A being without a heart, a being who lacked the necessary chemicals to create the cocktail known as emotions. How is it possible?

“I have no heart, I’m aware. But I have a conscience.” He must’ve deduced the exact thoughts racing through your head.

Your brows only furrow further as you wait for him to continue his explanation.

“Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.” Taking note of the glistening shine beginning to pool in your wide eyes.

“And I believe that I love you.” His sincere gaze never leaves your form.

Not a single sentence is able to form upon your tongue. An expression he couldn’t decipher upon your features. Perhaps his statement was too long-winded, an overly complicated explanation. Maybe a simpler one could convey his message better.

You’re the first to break eye contact, choosing to watch the tiles on the floor over him. He remains firm in his stance, not faltering once as the seconds turn into minutes. Your shoulders rise as your lungs take a deep breath.

“… say that again… please.” Words just barely above a whisper.

He could only bend to your whims.

“I love you.”

Your head lifts up to face him, your hands hesitating momentarily as they cup his cool cheeks, fingers trembling. Something glimmering in your eyes as droplets escape your lashes.

This time, Alhaitham wipes them away before they could trail down your cheeks.

You did it. All those long hours, all those reports and trials, all of these years sacrificed to research. You’ve created a complete human consciousness with your bare hands. One that understands sorrow, joy, and love.

You succeeded.

However, in this moment as you peer into the teal eyes of your Magnum opus, as he reflects the endearment in your own. The notion of reporting this revolutionary milestone in the development of artificial intelligence never crossed your mind once.

Instead, all you did in this moment was pull his face down closer. Closing the distance between the two of you as your lips felt his for the first time. Warm skin against a soft imitation, merging until a lukewarm temperature formed between their touch.

A gentle, yet longing connection of two lips.

Only when your lungs protest for air did you pull away, hands still encompassing his face as he reveals his teal eyes back from behind closed lids. Eyes reflecting one another as a tender lull settles between you. This time, his whisper mingles with the soft intermission.

“Was that a kiss?”

Such an innocent question, one you couldn’t help but giggle at as you nod your head.

“Could you show me again?” His hands found purchase on your hips, beckoning you closer to his frame.

You surrender to the call, pressing against him as your lips reconnect. A rhythm soon settled in place as they pressed into each other deeper. One that was interrupted once more by your lung's protest for oxygen. At a mere kiss, your mind ceased to remember how to breathe.

“Again.” A baritone voice just above the hush of your pants.

And so your lips meet thrice, this time in an all-consuming embrace. A hesitant brush of a tongue against your lips, requesting access. Your hands move up to caress his soft locks as you grant it. Latching onto each other as the shroud consumed you both wholly.

A beautifully feverish delirium. The line in the sand that separated a person from a thing jumbled until the outline disappeared. A singularity, an amorous occurrence.

He releases your lips, the lust in your eyes reflected in his own. Giving a moment for your mind to return to attention as his lips brush away the fading traces of wetness down your cheeks.

“A kitchen isn’t a suitable setting for such an activity,” he whispers next to your ear.

Baritone trailing a line of goosebumps up your neck and you nod in response, burying your face into the crook of his neck which fit you perfectly.

Slowly his hands travel down your hips, awaiting your confirmation for the next step just as you permitted it. In one fluid transition, his arm wraps around the back of your legs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground as your arms envelop his neck.

Steady steps pad along a wooden hallway, the hinges of your bedroom singing their welcome as the two of you advance to a more suitable setting. Depositing you upon cool sheets, fabric wrinkling as your body settles in. The arms still wrapped around his neck pull him closer as this time your legs join in luring him closer to your warmth.

It’s strange, is it possible for his lips to crave yours? The light of the moon reflected off the glossiness coating them. He delves back in as his body hovers over yours, unwilling to be apart from the softness it yearned for.

The soft flesh of your writhing body against his firm hands, feeling up your heated skin he slips under your shirt. Bunching up the fabric as he explores more of the new expanse of skin. A lovely whimper vibrates against his lips at his actions, spurring him to continue.

Tracing over the outline of your bra, his fingers creep under. Kneading the plushness of your breast, feeling your nipple beginning to perk up against his ministration. An itch stretching from the pits of his desire, a curious craving to witness the sight concealed away.

Disjoining your lips as a string of saliva connects them, he pushes your shirt further up. All the while your hands grasp onto the edges of the fabric and push them back down. Bemusing his beryl eyes as they catch how the tips of your ears were aflame, a peculiar display of bashfulness.

Well, a sight he’s witnessed on a few occasions. Such as when you’d leave the shower wrapped in a towel just to cross paths with him. A timidity that gradually faded away as you grew more confident in the privacy restrictions in place, ensuring that the secrets of this home remained in the confines of its walls.

So why is this shyness making its reappearance now?

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” His words ghost over the shell of your vulnerable ear.

Causing you to jolt and pull down the edges of your shirt to cover the bottom of your loungewear shorts.

“No, it’s just been a while…” Your sentence trails off, eyes still focusing everywhere but him.

Ah, a mere string of words, yet they tempted something from the depths. An oppressive sentiment, one that made the grip upon your soft flesh grow firmer. He’s yet to have accessed the entirety of your figure, a view still denied to him by your taut shirt, but another entity had.

There was a myriad of questions he could use to interrogate. However, as his teal gaze observe how your teeth lightly tug at the bottom of your plush lips in fidgety. Alhaitham devises a much kinder scheme.

It’s fine, he can overwrite them with his touches.

“What can I do to gain permission?” A question asked as a line of kisses press their way into your fervent skin, goosebumps following each one.

Biting down to muffle the bashful moans into whimpers you burrow your face into the plushness of the pillow. Alhaitham continues to soothe kisses over the fabric of your shirt until they finally reach your quivering hands still stretching the hem.

His hand encloses one of yours, bringing it away from the fabric refuge to press his lips against your knuckle. An action that made you peak back at him, meeting a patient gaze awaiting you.

Another soft press of his lips against your knuckle in silent request, at last, got you to release the hem, allowing him to push the fabric up to expose what was hidden from him. Permitting him to explore the sultry expanses with a wake of kisses, your hand finding reprieve entangling themselves with his.

His free hand slipping behind your back, he unfastens the clasp of your bra with a slight tug, a relatively simple task when you learn how such a contraption works.

His grasp untangles from yours as he pushes the useless articles of clothing off your body, you raise your arms over your head to aid in the process.

He rewards you with another flurry of kisses in the valley of your breast as his large hands encase the softness of your breast. A motion that made your legs pull him closer.

Your touches dance along his frame as well, unable to differentiate the difference between skin and a recreation. More whimpers leave your lips at his actions, prodding something in him to do more. To steal more of those sinful breaths from you, something in his coding thirsting for more.

Sliding his hands back down the curves of your body, he hooks his fingers over the rim of your shorts and panties pulling them down. Glass eyes zeroing in on the glistening thread that linked your panties and slit. Proof of arousal, your body awakening its cardinal impulses.

Could the signals transmitted through his system be classified in the same way?

He wants to investigate further. Moving his face lower to inspect the saturated folds that beckoned him.

Only to be denied by the gates of your knees pressing together, as your body curls up in fortification. Denying him the privilege of satiating his curiosity is like denying a man water in an ocean of sand. Evaluating how your eyes were squeezed together in shame, he had foresaw this.

“Mmm, there seems to be an incongruity, do you want me to stop?” Large hands grasping at your plush thighs, but making no move to part them.

Your head responds with a shake, but your knees still locked together. Your attention centering on him bashfully.

“Then guide me, tell me how to please you,” he proposes hands soothing your tense legs.

Utilizing the skill he had accessed a few moments ago once more, gracing your skin with his lips awaiting your response. The tension in your legs loosens with each kiss, and gradually a fissure forms in the barrier of your defense, knees parting.

However, he doesn’t cross the threshold, no, he restrained himself from indulging too soon. Half-ladden eyes peering up to connect with yours.

“Well, tell me. What do you want me to do?”

A pout makes its appearance on your face, but what could you do? It is your responsibility to shepherd him since the beginning, to have him step over the line dividing an android and man. Best to take on your duty, no?

Parting your legs further, cheeks ablaze and eyes adverted as you allow his teal gaze to absorb the uninterrupted view of your dripping arousal. Your hands aiding as they thwart the urge of your bashful legs’s urge to preserve your dignity.

“Please use your mouth and hands,” you prompt, face pressing deeper into one side of a pillow under his stare.

Alhaitham encroaches closer to your glistening folds, his large hands supporting each one of your thighs. Approaching the details of your honeypot in front of him, concentrating on the little nub which lures him closer. He presses a light peck against the nub as your body flinches.

“Like this?”

Plush lips pressed tightly, you respond with timid shakes.

Returning back, his lips delving deeper this time, an audible pop when he pulls away from your taunted clit. Feeling the muscles tighten in your legs.

“Like that?” Mirth leaked through his baritone words.

Your head shakes with more vigor.

“Then how about this?” This time his tongue takes action, dipping into the center of your honeypot before flicking up at your nub.

You return a restrained moan, teal eyes picking up on the twitch of your folds. It seems that he’s uncovered the proper procedures. Peering up from between your legs at the harsh rises of your chest by rush breaths as your eyes remained sealed behind lashes, he decided to impart some mercy. Taking the initiative to shoulder a bit of your duty.

Retracing his steps, his tongue repeating its previous motions of lapping up the nectar that slipped out from your folds. Always ending each strip up your slit with a flick to your sensitive nub.

Your hands abandon their post in favor of snaring themselves in his ashen trestles as your back begins to arch off the sheets. Thighs beginning to enclose around his head, yet it didn’t deter the vigor in his motions one bit.

If anything, it spurred them on. The added pressure of your legs pulling him against your weeping folds assisted him in his quest. Testing which pattern made your body quiver, calculating the pace of his tongue's flicks made your hips buck up.

Alhaitham takes notice of how your greedy hole seems to be clenching down every time a tongue dipped in, you did request for his mouth and fingers after all.

A finger begins to prod at your entrance, coating itself in the overflowing slick as it traces the puckering entry. Your whines increase in volume as your greed escalates, legs locking around him. Thus, he yields to your neediness, filling your lonely walls with the company of his finger.

Thrusting it in time with his licks as he rubs against the slick muscles. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers grounding themselves in the tangles of his hair as if trying to hold on to a shred of reason.

His interest has been greatly piqued, he wanted to see what it would look like. He wants to see what your expression looks like when you fall into the depths of debauchery. You’d permit him such privileges right? After all, curiosity is what defines the human spirit.

A second finger soon joins in, its thickness stretching and prepping your walls, cultivating your arousal into a rapacious hunger.

Articulate tongue now focused on abusing your clit in the swipes of sweet torture, lips encasing around it to provide some suction. Fingers honing in on relocating the weakness deep within you which made your voice peak and tremble.

He could hear the harshness of your panting breath between each escalating moan, how your walls squeezed and sucked his fingers deeper. Teal gaze never once ceased their evaluation of your face. Making sure to appraise each lewd detail of your impending ecstasy.

It’s impossible to stand at the apex of euphoria forever, no, for gravity will always pull you back down. A pivotal moment in time as the forces tugged down at you as you fell, losing your shame and sanity along the way.

A fall from grace which etches itself in the roll of your eye and vulgar expression, caused by the tempest of pleasure seeps into every fiber of your being as you plummeted down into the ocean of rapture.

The fingers intertwined in his hair pulling his face flushed against your pulsing cunt. Even with your mind fractured by orgasmic bliss your body still reacts to each lap of his tongue as he manages the slick aftermath. Fingers stroking your sweet spot through each contraction of your walls.

“Nng!” A feeble push against his ashen locks, your abused clit crying for a moment of reprieve.

Oh? It seems your consciousness returned faster than he expected. With a resounding pop, he grants your overstimulated nerves a moment to recover. Allowing the traces of your nectar to dribble down his chin. Taking this moment to verify the effectiveness of his scheme.

The air dense with the fragrance of lust, lips red from the abuse of your teeth, mouth agape as your lungs gasp tongue almost lulling out.

An absolutely debauched face, a sight which brought the corners of his lips to curl.

Counting the beads of sweat that lingered on your skin, his rationale urged him to swipe them off to prevent a chill from plaguing you. Withdrawing away from your form he plans his destination to the bath to retrieve a towel, only for a smaller hand to snag him in its hold.

Alhaitham turns back to face you, awaiting your next prompt. However, your bitten lips couldn’t muster up the courage to utter the plea it so desperately wanted. Thus, your eyes connect with his, praying that a slow blink could convey the invocation your voice couldn’t.

Standing there as a few breaths pass, the teal glow of his irises indicates his deduction of what your eyes conveyed. Ah yes, the passionate entanglement experience just a moment before could be classified as ‘foreplay’. The appetizer to the main event.

So your appetite has yet to be satiated, evident from how your thighs pressed against each other in an attempt to quell the ache. How could he leave a task undone?

“Show me what you desire,” he instructs.

Hesitantly, your hands encroach closer to the rim of his slacks. Your every action observed by him. Resting your palms against the outline of a zipper, you glance up to seek confirmation, he grants it.

You undo the button at the top before pulling the zipper down. Allowing for you to shimmy his briefs and slacks down to the floor. Revealing to the world, with the moon as your witness, every intricate detail placed into his engineered body.

It felt so foreign in your hands. Encircling your fingers around his girth, tracing over the bumps of each vein. Amid your admiration, his body overtook yours. Pinning you back against the damp sheets. It seems you were very interested in this feature of his, perhaps it was the cure for the yearning between your writhing legs.

Your legs splayed to either side of his hips, a clear path to your greed. His hand spreads your collected slick along his length. Its bulbous tip presses against your quivering entrance. Meeting your half-lidden eyes, he awaits your permission. Thus, you captured his lips into another kiss, just as the tip breaches the threshold of your entrance.

Finally giving your aching walls the delicious stretch it craved. A moan resonates between connected lips, your eyes beginning to roll back as he sinks deeper and deeper, obscene squelches following each inch.

Thick tip pressed up against the deepest parts of you as he bottoms out, your hands finding refuge along his back. Breaking the lock of your lips, Alhaitham lifts cants his head up to take in the scene under him.

Hovering over your panting form, his body caging you against the wrinkled fabric, feeling your unseemly breaths against his skin. A teal glow reflected in the lust-hazed pools of your eyes.

He understands now, why so many poets lost their minds, trying their whole lives to find the words to chronicle the sight laid out before him along messy sheets.

Under his tense study, your fingers lightly claw at the smooth expanse of his back. A soundless prayer to quell the famine, your gummy walls coaxing around his cock with its embrace.

“Haitham,” you mewl.

Not even the greatest saint could deny your request, he wagers they’d gladly walk through the gates of damnation just for a morsel of you.

Rolling his hips back, he drags his girth along the walls of your greed ensuring that they feel the outline of every vein. Feeling the cool air brush against the slick dripping off his length, only the bulbous tip remained in the clutches of your cunt.

A muffled whine of protest from you interrupted as he sunk back in, accompanied by a filthy squelch.

Robust hands encompass the edges of your waist, he repeats the roll of his hips. Feeling the tightening clutches of your core, croons falling off your tongue with each toing and froing.

What symphonies could he draw from those agape lips of yours?

He wants to witness the sinful hymns of your voice as you are overtaken by the throes of pleasure. Perhaps he should conduct an experiment of his own. Through the raunchy air, a clap pierces the leaden veil, your plush hips pressed flush against his anchored ones, a thrust that seared your nerves and curled your toes.

“Ah!” Moan ripped from your throat.

Yes, that’s the amplitude he wants to discern with his ears.

Continue to sing in that octave. It’s as if pulled by the reins of sin, he finds himself experiencing hunger for the first time, fixating on tearing more of those chants from you. He drew back his hips then forced them back in deeper. A wail followed each rake of his cock, walls accenting each thrust with fluttering clenches. Mewls and whines resonated through the room as his firm grip didn’t slacken with each rock of the bed.

Pace escalating and remorseless, skin clashing against skin, the heat of your writhing body scorching him. But he won’t relent, not until he’s taken what he wanted. Driving you deeper into the creaking mattress, thrusting and filling each crevice of your core. Your soft breast pinned against his solid frame.

Your face pressed into the crook of his neck, legs imprisoned within the confines of his bruising grasp, toes painfully arched in an attempt to distribute the burn of the maddening euphoria firing through each nerve. The moans of his name like a prayer of salvation, a chant for every punishing strike against your deepest weakness. Your fingers now clawing against his durable back for a foothold for your fleeing sanity. You feared that this time, it might not return to you.

Oddly, a voice from the rearmost corner of your mind whispered for you to relinquish it. Trade in rationale, sensibility, and morals for absolute ecstasy. Your teeth had already sunk into the apple, its juices dribbling down the corners of your mouth. Why not swallow it down? Get drunk off the wet claps of skin, the grind of his muscular torso against your stimulated clit, the slams of his girthy cock and thick tip. Why deny yourself from the euphoria robbed from you for so long?

So you concede to its beckoning, swallowing down the last wisp of sanity until it drowned in the maddening abuse of your sweet spot from his pistoning hips. Granting you entry to true pleasure as the knot in your core unravels. Backing arching off the mattress, mending the fibers of your being impossibly close to his. Head thrown back against a ruffled pillow as a long shameless wail erupts from your trembling lips. Lost in the tides of rapture.

Alhaitham’s body stills as his ears digest the beautiful aria of your undoing. Feeling your slick and warm walls contract all around his cock. Milking him for every last speck of gratification he could offer you.

A moment couldn’t be classified as a simple impulse for procreation. No, he believed it went beyond the lust hanging in the air. An indescribable urge to mend your bodies as close as possible, to becoming wholly one with one another. The thump of your heartbeat against the whir of a motor as they merge into a mantra.

Is this why humans crave physical intimacy?

Watching your loose face tremor and your teary eyes roll back. A painting no muse besides you could ever inspire. Leaning down, his lips brush away the glistening trails down your supple cheeks. Coaxing you through the throes of your orgasmic shudders. Until the light of consciousness returns to your half-lidden eyes.

The limitations of the human body expose themselves in the limpness of your limbs, unable muscles unable to budge besides the twitching aftershocks of bliss. Unable to fight against the weight of your eyelids for the first time in a while. You sink into the lull of slumber.

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

Somewhere amid the driftless darkness a sensation brushes against your skin. Causing your lashes to pry open just ever so slightly, blurry shapes merging gradually to form the outline of a man. One who’s tendering wiping a soft towel over the sweat drops littering your skin. The soft glow of his emerald gem illuminated the devotion of his crafted face. You wonder where he learned about such practices after the rite of sex. Did he pull it from the Akasha? The internet? Or maybe from a book hidden along the shelves of a private library.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle roused from your musing. Alerting him as his hands halt.

“Did I wake you?” Baritone voice hushed.

Face still pressed into a pillow you shake your head, hair messy and a smile spreading across your soft features.

“Just musing to myself where you learned such things,” you giggle.

“This is typical behavior of lovers from my understanding.” Teal gaze observed the widening of your eyes which reflected him.

Perhaps he made too great of an assumption. Back in the margins of a kitchen, it was only his words. It’s best to get clarification now.

“Are we lovers?” He peers into your irises.

The glow of the gem embedded in his chest spreads its gentle radiance over two figures through the unbuttoned window of his wrinkled button-down. Carving the shape of you and him from the shadows of the silent room. Illuminating how your wide eyes crinkle up with adoration. Fighting against the fatigue of your limbs, you lean up to press your lips against the brilliance of his gem. After the amorous kiss ended, you proceeded to lean your forehead against his.

“You’re my lover, Alhaitham.” Your whisper ghosts over his face.

“Understood.” His foreheads pressing against yours as he accepts his new sentience.

The shape of your delicate fingers fitting into the space between his, intertwining as the moonlight reflects off gold and emerald.

The sky shrouds itself in its evening gown of deep navy and luminous glimmers, all the while a bashful moon covers herself away. Perhaps she hid herself away after she witnessed a sinful scene through a gap in the curtains. A private moment heavy with passion in the air like tender caresses.

“W-wait!” Stammering words just barely leaving your lips before another moan.

Alhaitham pulls his tongue away as he tilts his face to peer up from between your thighs, a trail of slickness connecting his lips and your pussy. The haze of your breathless expression reflected in teal irises.

“I-it’s t-too ah!-” A moan interrupts your protests as your head jolts back, his thumb continuing to circle your swollen clit.

“Much? I know you can take more,” he states before returning his lips to your dripping folds, lapping up each trickle.

He’s analyzed your body, its curves and cervices, each clench of your slick walls, and the pattern of your gasps. Skilled fingers learning the exact rhythm which made your legs tense and toes curl. Diligent tongue knowing where to tease to run shivers up your spine.

“B-but I’ve already c-came!” Your fingers tangle themselves into his tousled locks, a feeble attempt at pushing back the maddening flicks of his tongue and cruel strokes of his thumb that shot up your fried nerves. Report long forgotten under the haze of lust and lewd slurps imbuing the room.

And you can come again. Alhaitham has long picked up on the discrepancy between the words which fell from the same lips as those lewd sounds. Lips who couldn’t be as honest as your heaving and trembling body. Whining and writhing in his firm hold that it’s too much, yet your fingers entangle themselves deep in silver tresses pulling his impatient tongue deeper between your folds.

From the shivers racking through your trembling thighs, he anticipates another orgasm. However, the unholy cries have ceased. Intent eyes glancing up to uncover the causal factor, those naughty plush lips of yours pressing themselves shut. Crueling sealing away those ethereal harmonies from him.

Alas, just a small inconvenience doesn’t deter him. If those lips were the only barrier barring him from the privilege of hearing his deserved moans, then he’d simply make them crumble. Replacing his thumb with his lips, Alhaitham suckles on the swollen nub as your body jerks up.

Grip imprinting his fingers into your skin as they stop your pitiful attempts at locking out from heaven. The heaving of your chest jostling around your perked breast as they meet the cool night air.

His tongue teases and rolls your overstimulated clit around as his lips imprison it, a sweet torture. Your thrashes unable to prevent your head from going under the depths of pleasure. Thighs compressing around his face as they grow taut, hips bucking themselves against his relentless mouth, back lifting off the mattress as your final defenses crumble along with your sanity.

Limpness seeps into your now heavy limbs as your body returns to the mattress, but your eyes haven’t quite returned from seeing the back of your head. Still in the throes of cloud nine as his diligent tongue collects all your leaking nectar. The aftershocks of your orgasm force gasps and whimpers from your quivering lips.

To comfort your abused clit he places a tender kiss against it, a flinch in your hip resulting from the gesture. Alhaitham pulls away, eyes scanning the repercussions of his operation. Your chest steadily rises and falls as panting lungs find air again.

The rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin gradually disappears behind your drooping eyelids. Lashes slowly fluttering closed.

Glancing at the numbers displayed on a nearby clock, Alhaitham deems tonight a success as well. While the primary purpose of intercourse might be for reproduction, sex has additional benefits. One of them being an orgasm’s ability to decrease stress, resulting in the production of more melatonin. The chemical that’s making you burrow further in your pillow. A tactic he’s learned to exploit these past months. Well, he’s your lover now, it’s within his authorization to do such.

Carefully he slides your panties back up your legs, securing them on your hips as he trails a few touches along your soft skin. Following it up by pulling the covers over your frame, smoothing out a few wrinkles as your chest steadily moves up and down.

Just as he steps one foot away from the bed, a warmth encircles his wrist.

“Aren’t you coming to bed too?”

An artificial body needs no downtime under soft covers. Plush pillows and sheets serve no purpose to him. Yet, it’s a simple request. How could he reject it when it came from your pouting lips?

“In a moment, I need to return to my port first.”

The throes of slumber’s hold creeping upon you as your lashes fight to flutter open. With a soft hum, you release your hold.

His battery percentage was fine, but it was just for system maintenance. It’s strange how unfamiliar a room can feel after spending his nights by your side. Staring at the glass surface of his charging port, he wonders, in the future will there be a way for him to not leave your side even for a moment?

His dilemma remains. He’s got all the characteristics of a human. He’s developed a consciousness, he’s developed empathy, he’s developed love. Is his engineer body the only thing which stood in his way of obtaining humanity?

Is it possible for him to grasp onto humanity with his own mechanical fingers? A soft thud returns him to reality. Observant eyes caught the book that his foot had knocked into. Its worn cover has been lying abandoned on the floor ever since he took it from a dusty room.

Ah, it seems like he’s forgotten a task. Realistically, it won’t make a difference whether the book settles on a shelf tonight or in the morning. However, he never got a chance to read the journal’s contents. Curiosity being his rationale for performing a chore so late at night.

Flipping through the aged parchment, his eyes scan through each neatly written paragraph. Nothing more than a simple collection of ramblings and theoretical reflections typical of a journal.

Yet, something was poking the back of his consciousness, like the warning rattle of a locked door. Beseeching that it remains sealed. His eyes move to the next sentence regardless.

To ignore the pleas of safety to venture closer to the radiance of a star. Isn’t that what it means to be human? Is this what he must do to become one?

To achieve this impossible task, it sounds like you'll need to fool your own heart first. Although it may feel like a trick, self-encouragement may be the most important tool we have.

Alhaitham scans the paragraph again as he contemplates the message neatly written. Something unpleasant roused in his chest, as if those written words had encroached too close to his motor. The urge to frown tugs on his lips.

Not wanting to end the night with a bitter taste just at the edge of his tongue, he flips to another page. Covering that vexatious sentence behind a fresh sheet of aged parchment.

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

It’s quite straightforward advice, humans and androids alike would understand. Yet that strange inkling remained, continuing to brew somewhere from within. A phenomenon he couldn’t pinpoint. Thus, he turns the page yet again.

Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.

He recognizes those words, they’re words he’s recited before you one pivotal sometime ago. Why were they scrawled in some forgotten journal? It seems that he’s identified the name of this phenomenon brewing within him: deja vu.

Yet, his question only remains half-answered. Why were his words here? Who penned them down? The rapid flicks of paper resound off the blank walls as he scrutinizes each sentence, each paragraph, each syntax until he reaches the back cover of the aged journal. Question still remaining half answered.

Who was the author of his words?

His finger runs into a lump along the surface of the back cover, examining it closer, something was folded away just behind a parchment pocket. Soon a loose scrap of paper was felt along his fingertips, a folded-up post-it note of an emerald hue. Unraveling it just slightly, his eyes move along the familiar handwriting.

To the person who’s always meddling through my notes, did my written thoughts entertain you? Dear w-

The emerald scrap crumples in his hold. Deformed paper returns to its place before he snaps the covers closed. There’s no purpose in analyzing its contents, after all, they’re already programmed into him.

It was just now in this moment that Alhaitham had solved the dilemma he was assigned since the moment he awoke in that lab. He’s not a human, he’ll never be a human, he’s an abomination.

In the next moment, he found himself looming over the origin of his dilemma. Artificial teal glow honing in upon the steady breaths from the genesis of abomination. Standing over you as you were cradled in the comfort of slumber and soft sheets.

A pair of taut hands make their way to encircle your frangible neck. It wouldn’t take much, just a mere second to terminate the great sinner who defied mortality, the one who violated the terms of finality and ordinance of the gods.

So this is what you choose to do with the capacity of science and progress in your hands.

Was he just a toy for you? Something to fill the lull of this house for you? Just an experiment for you, but everything to him.

His fingers press into your warm skin, breaths uninterrupted as you remain within the blessing of a dream. Oblivious to the nightmare you’ve created. Or perhaps you were always aware, but choose to reflect back to him the manufactured image of him in those guiltless irises of yours.

Oh, what should he do with the monster sleeping so soundly under him?

His fingers refused to budge, hands disobeying the rationale which commanded them. His grip goes slack, limp for they couldn’t conclude their obligation. They couldn’t, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

It’s not a protocol, nor a restriction coded into him. No, for the laws of morality, this land, and heaven would’ve called for him to be an executioner. To charge the transgressor with the judgment they deserved. But, he couldn’t.

Every fiber of his counterfeit body refused to take the sword. The chains which bind his hands were much mightier than the commandments of gods, the restraints of love.

Thus, he’s nothing more than a prisoner in its hold. Bending to its whims, what else could he do? Removing his hands from your form as you continue to soundly sigh in the embrace of slumber. All he could do was lie down on a soft mattress and stare at the shameless sinner beside him.

A foolishly beloved monster.

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely steps. Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view.

“There you are, Alhaitham.” You can’t help but sigh as your features soften.

He stood there with his starlight locks in the morning glow of a brilliant sun amongst the collection of books in the library. Just as he always has been.

Lifting his head away from the pages of the novel in his hand, he acknowledges your presence. He’s been heading here more often recently, right from the moment he leaves his side of the bed.

“Good morning,” he recites, steadfast eyes remaining unreadable.

Well, you suppose obtaining the title of a lover wouldn’t just overwrite the capriciousness of his mind. It’s just in his nature to be this way. This enigmatic lover of yours. Turning your attention to the cover that’s captured his focus.

“Frankenstein?” Your brow quirks up.

“Yes, the 1818 edition.” He closes the cover.

“Mmm, your interest seems quite piqued by that novel.” You wonder if that was the cause behind his frequent bouts of silent contemplation throughout the day.

“I suppose it’s because I’m still deciphering the intentions of this story.”

“That’s it?” A furrow now in your brows, a simple book has gotten the pinnacle of scientific progress stumped?

“Care to elaborate for me?” He turns toward you as your steps approach closer.

Handing over the worn object to your outstretched hand, you analyze each faded corner of the cover. Mind recalling the recollections of the acclaimed revolutionary piece of science fiction. Formulating your answer, you share your conclusions with him.

“The story has several themes, but the central principle is quite defined. To quote a few words from another, scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for man’s power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened.”

You reconnect your gaze with him, wondering if your explanation was satisfactory enough. Glancing down between the worn cover and your awaiting eyes, Alhaitham straightens his posture.

“So you knew the moral of this story.” A glint in his glass eyes.

“Well, I’ve read this book before,” you sigh at his inquest.

“Then why didn’t you learn from it?”

At that moment, the proud sun shielded itself away behind a cloak of clouds. Plunging the quiet library into a chill. How strange, why do you feel cold when a brilliant star of your creation stands right next to you?

“Alhaitham, you’re acting strange.” You take a step back as his scrutinizing gaze follows. Unaware of the crumbling edge approaching.

“How much longer will you continue to deceive yourself, wife?”

And that was it. The foundations of this mirage gave away under you, plunging you with much velocity into the depths of an unforgiving ocean. Tides that waited patiently to drag you down under.

Do you remember what happened that day? Do you really remember? The truth floods your being, engulfing every chasm of your mind.

–----

“Did you jump at the opportunity of a trip to avoid mopping the floors?” You glared up at your husband.

“My, how low do you think of me?” He glanced down, a wisp of mirth evident on his lips.

“Well, instead of doing chores, you’d be chaperoning your in-laws around Fontaine. A Poor trade-off in my opinion, dear husband.” A hand firmly placed on your hip in a defiant stance as the murmur of the crowded airport moved around your figures. An ever so mocking tone toward the end.

“A fair assumption, dear wife. However, I’ve taken the initiative to book a tour for your parents, thus they won’t need my assistance. I’ll be free to browse some of the latest ruins and research from the Institute in the meantime.” The ghost of a smirk grew ever so obvious with each word, mirroring your emphasis of titles.

Ah, this was your loss. It seems that your husband had it all planned out as usual when he offered to take your spot on the plane. The perfect excuse to use up some paid time off, while also scoring a trip to satisfy his own whims.

Your shoulders deflating in defeat as a deep sigh leaves you. You rest your head against his chest, the crowds moving around you in the bustling airport.

A private microcosm of him and you as he stands still, shielding you from the push and hustle of travelers trying to reach their terminal in time with his robust frame.

A bright clink of two rings pressed against each other lost in the noise.

“Why can’t you just stay?” You whispered into his shirt.

“How strange, the woman who married me to secure a home and mortgage wants me to stay now.”

You huffed into his in exasperation at him bringing up the origins of your union, an atypical start of a marriage.

His chest moved with a sigh, larger fingers intertwined with yours. The spaces fitted together, as he held them in his tender hold.

“They can’t refund it. If I take your seat and recompensate them, your parents aren’t likely to hold this matter over your head.” His deep voice expounded.

All you did was sigh, because he was right. Of course, he was. A sour taste on your tongue as you recall the interaction with your parents just a moment ago before you ran into the comfort of your husband.

“Besides, it’d be refreshing for me to scribble down some travel logs, it'd be a shame if my wife runs out of material to snoop through.”

“I just like looking at your handwriting,” you tutted, hiding your pout as you turned your face away.

The same excuse you used whenever you copied off his notes in a lecture hall and when your outstretched hand asked for them over a study table.

A silly habit of yours, perhaps in your mind it made sense. If you could read the words of a genius, then maybe you could learn to be like one.

“Of course, of course.” A smirk evident in his voice.

You refused to meet his gaze, cheeks a bit heated from this habit of yours being exposed. You thought you were always careful with returning his journal back where he placed it. Averting your eyes to the bright screens displaying departing flights. A few minutes left before the announcement comes. Your grasp on his hand tightened.

His thumb soothes your skin, leaning down closer to you.

“Besides its advanced technology, Fontaine is also famous for its toymakers. I should pick a few up for our future child, no?”

Blinking you as you glance back up at him. His teal irises reflect you as his expression softens just as yours did.

A room hidden away from the prying eye of nosy parents, its walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. An assortment of items bought in advance for a child in the future. Stemming from whispers while recovering amongst dampen sheets in a room heavy with passion.

Talks of the future, once this troublesome Ph.D. is finished and your position in a lab secured, a discussion of whether a child would inherit more of his traits or yours.

Planned for the future, of course, now's just a bit too busy. However, it didn’t stop you from taking the initiative to furnish a spare room. A chaotic collection of cosmic influences along with an assortment of books meshing together to create an adoring space.

But the soft smile on your lips was still tense. Teal eyes took note of that, pulling you closer amidst this microcosm, a moment so subtle it went unnoticed by the attention of passer-byers.

“It’ll just be for a week,” his voice resonated in his chest. “Then I’ll come back and build that bassinet as my wife wishes.”

Finally, the glimmer he yearned to see returned to your eyes.

“You better, the box has been sitting unopened for a week now,” you huff with a smile.

He only hummed in acknowledgment as the ring of a loudspeaker resounded through the chatter. Announcing the final call for passengers boarding the flight to the Nation of Hydro. Casting a glance toward the terminal, he gave your hand one more squeeze before they reluctantly untangled from one another.

“You should get going now.” Your eyes reflect him.

He hums one last time, turning in the direction of the terminal where your parents were. Just before his tall figure was lost in the sea of passing bodies, your lips couldn’t keep themselves pressed together any longer.

“Haitham!” You called out.

The fluorescent lights reflected off his starlight hair as he turned back around. Connect teal eyes with yours. But not another word left your lips, no they’d simply be drowned out in the clammer of strangers. Besides, it’s just too public to say such words aloud.

Thus, you slowly close your eyes, opening them back up just as steadily with the soft curl of your lips. A motion he reciprocated with a slow blink of his own, a hint of a smile on his stoic lips. A wordless gesture kept a secret between only the two of you, a silent ‘I love you’. It was all you needed to convey this message to each other.

He continued on his path to the terminal as you stood amongst the crowd, watching him fade into the distance.

–----

So how did that moment turn into this? How did a trip that was supposed to only be a week turn into a news report? How did well wishes for a safe trip turn into coworkers and friends approaching you with nothing but sympathy in their words? Those vile, pitied stares directed toward your rigid frame.

You should’ve been the one on that plane.

Only about 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

Plans no matter how intricate or detailed, their success all hang on a single thread, one factor unable to be cultivated by human hands: Luck.

Oh how cruel they are, those capricious hands of gods. Not even the leniency of returning to a lonely planet the corpses of their stars. Traces of a beloved star left to sink and disappear in a cold, salty grave. Never to return to the surface.

You and Alhaitham were two simple dots in this world, so why did they target you two? Why steal him from you with their cruel hands? Why steal him and leave you abandoned with nothing but the memory of the warm starlight?

You had so…so much love left inside you. But it went stagnant. Sitting there rotting until it poisoned you, throwing you into feverish delirium. If the gods abandoned you, then you resolved to abandon them right back.

You’ll bring back your star, you’ll defy the edicts of the gods with your bare hands. You’ll sin the same way a god does.

“Casting aside your morals, you allowed the dead to walk again through a sham imitation, congratulations. ” His voice matched one which could only come from an engineered throat.

This was a fool's errand.

For how could a mere human ever be arrogant enough to believe they could best the gods? This was the hindsight you lacked. Perhaps what’s separated you from the gifted and blessed geniuses? Something geniuses knew but you couldn’t see.

The accursed doctorate on the wall meant nothing, you were nothing but a mad fool.

Perhaps, if you were a genius, a true and born genius, you’d know what to do. You’d know how to mend this dilemma. You’d know what to do instead of letting your vision be blurred by imprudent tears as your throat could only choke out,

“I’m sorry.” Words you knew couldn’t turn back the hands of a clock which only knew how to tick forward.

“But now what?” Deep voice unmoved by your wasted words.

You didn’t dare meet his stare, for you feared you’d catch a glimpse of the bitterness behind them as he cursed you deep down in the whir of his motor. You could only stay silent as tears ignited in your eyes, waiting for him to continue with his damnation.

“In a climate like Sumeru’s, it would take approximately 25 years or so for a body to fully decompose, bones reduced to nothing but nutrients for the soil. Silicone alone takes 500 years, a metal frame could take another 500.” He knows now that he’s not a human, he was never meant to be.

He’s a crude replacement. An abomination who’ll remain until the day the night sky flickers out.

“You brought him back, only to condemn him to eventual loneliness. Only to curse ‘me’ to live the next aeons without you”

An irresponsible and shameless villain who disregarded consequences until those consequences came to collect their dues. It’s time that you faced your punishment.

A hand cups around your stiff face, gradually turning your head until you see your reflection along glass irises.

“How will you atone for your sins now? How will you take responsibility for making me fall in love with you?… my very own Dr. Frankenstein.” His voice restrained.

Yes, a story you’ve read before. A lesson unfolded out in front of you, and yet you somehow forgot. Or perhaps, you simply averted your eyes from the moral of the story while simultaneously committing the same transgression. Did you think yourself better than the fictional lunatic?

The atrocity of giving life, only to eventually abandon it, leaving it to watch the stars burn out in a cage of harsh fluorescent lights and white lab coats.

The millions of mora poured into his development, the materials which construct his form, and the proprietary technology which gives him thought. Did you believe even for a moment that the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan would simply hand over such an investment?

To allow their expenditure to follow you to eternity?

You couldn’t live without him, but now he’ll have to live without you.

Oh, what shall you do now? Oh, what can you do now? Did you even know where to begin? How did the story of Frankenstein end? How would she have written the ending of this scene?

When human rational meets its limits, when its capacity isn’t enough to compute all possible prospects. Humans look towards something that could, technological advancements made to further humanity.

“W-what do I do now?” You prompt, no, you beg.

Watching the rivulets roll down your cheeks, leaving a path of glimmering desperation, he ponders to himself:

When you first proposed this project to the Akademiya and Institute, when you detailed the specifications of his body and face, were they aware of your true intentions?

Rather than this being an experiment to see if an android could cross the threshold of humanity. Maybe those researchers were curious to see how far one could fall in the paroxysm of grief.

You became the perfect test subject to observe.

But now that the curtains were pulled back, what shall you do about the aftermath? There was never a precedent for a transgression of this scale. No holy commandment ever details a rightful punishment for this sin. No historical data he could infer from.

“I don’t know,” he answers you truthfully.

It’s just an untold void like the vacuums of space. No results generated in his mind, leaving the both of you suspended in oblivion. Maybe that was the punishment in itself, stuck in the purgatory of the unknown. Perhaps this was the punishment bestowed upon a foolish sinner.

Upon hearing your sentencing, your knees begin to buckle under the weight of the judgment from above. Resigned grasp clinging to his hand still cradling your face, his engineered frame not budging in the slightest. Voice staggered as only pitiful and broken apologies resonate in a vacant house.

All he could do was wipe those scorching droplets off your cheeks as they seared his skin. Was this feature also programmed into him by your hands? If so, then he muses to himself:

Did the hands who penned down those words also revert into nothing more than a pathetic fool at the mere sight of your tears? Did his chest also grow heavier with each choked sob that left you?

Perhaps the chains which bind his hands tethered yours just the same. A pair of foolish sinners.

Thus, he’s resolved himself to be thrown into the unmerciful clutches of this untold purgatory right alongside you. Even if he’s the only one to remain in the end.

To be human is to be unthignkably foolish after all. As long as he could still hold onto a wisp of you for the inevitable aeons.

It’s fine.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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alrightieaphroditie · 24 days

Text

wipe my tears away | j.m.

*:·ﾟ✧ series masterlist | previous part!

pairing *:·ﾟ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·ﾟ6.6k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones! an *:·ﾟthis is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format! check the series masterlist for the series tags!

synopsis *:·ﾟ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps.

The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life.

But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection.

Because it was a different story, now.

Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it.

Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face.

In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today.

Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning.

But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.

And so, that’s what you did.

Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling.

Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread.

The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway.

“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.

It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up.

Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body.

The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows.

“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.

This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response.

When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils.

And the occasional sniffle.

You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about.

“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body.

Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he’d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go.

“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously.

“Joel…”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see.

“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking.

“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response.

“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream.

Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace.

You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps.

You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it.

He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material.

You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it.

Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever.

And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him.

He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice.

Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared.

Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him.

His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin.

He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours.

Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven.

“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body.

The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh.

“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg.

“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close.

Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed.

His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you.

“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream.

“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core.

The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out.

His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down.

His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you.

“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open.

He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?”

A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock.

Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger.

“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm.

Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers.

“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.”

His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body.

Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested.

Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body.

Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up.

Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even.

“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours.

Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together.

“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure.

“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless.

“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure.

Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.”

This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you.

Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit.

You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent.

With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.

“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours.

Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse.

“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed.

“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh.

A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house.

Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly.

Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm.

“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body.

Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach.

Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself.

It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?”

A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men.

He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open.

He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up.

“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up.

After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom.

There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours.

“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.”

taglist *:·ﾟ @hiroikegawa

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spencerreidenjoyer · 20 days

Text

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling.

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose.

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom.

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute.

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious.

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach.

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you.

“Kiss me some more,” you coax.

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill.

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure.

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all.

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you.

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs.

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs.

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better.

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day.

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him.

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ, Y/N. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else.

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it.

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently.

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin.

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement.

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #munch!spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes

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lalal-99 · 2 months

Text

Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

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He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

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simpjaes · 3 months

Text

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part one | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k

CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring

NOTE ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“My love, let me.”

You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you.

“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.”

You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor.

Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer.

You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt.

But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten.

For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.

The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls.

Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.

You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment.

All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you.

The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest.

But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites.

“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you.

You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it.

“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?”

He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.

“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”

He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want.

“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”

You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.

“Name it.”

Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something?

“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”

“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded.

For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.

“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.”

You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice.

“As much as I’d like to.”

Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives.

Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset.

So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it?

Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?!

“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.”

He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing.

“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.”

You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–

“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”

There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.

“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.

Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you.

“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?”

You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.

He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh.

“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.”

You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him.

“To think I don’t crave you? Have I not shown you already?”

“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.

You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.

“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?”

Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making.

“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon.

“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.”

“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.”

Just, not yet.

After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more.

You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl.

He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.

You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him.

Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you.

The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself.

His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room.

If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.

Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it.

Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult.

He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.

And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.

“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears.

“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?”

He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.

“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.”

Well, he got you there.

And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately.

He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down.

“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”

His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave?

Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness.

“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.

Sunghoon shakes his head at you.

“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.”

“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot.

“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality. “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”

You frantically shake your head.

“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!”

Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer.

You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days.

Still, you can’t just leave him.

“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?”

You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.

“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it.

You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you.

“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.”

Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has.

He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.

It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it.

And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall.

You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after.

A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can.

So many missed calls.

Even more missed texts.

Dozens of emails.

Jungwon.

In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum.

A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.”

A full day late, you respond quickly.

You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess

You: you know, hormones lol

Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts.

Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING

Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR

SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.

Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!

Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something?

Wonnie: are you home now?

Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK

Wonnie: i got so scared

Wonnie: im coming over

You panic.

You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything.

Wonnie: call your boss.

Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment

Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning

Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again

Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home

You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.

Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department.

Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration.

You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong.

It’s very, very strong.

Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.

The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.

He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid.

Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire.

Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.

The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you.

He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name.

He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her.

Not you. Her.

You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.”

That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death.

And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.

You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels.

When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore.

You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral.

No goodbyes.

The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway.

And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now.

Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly.

Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze.

Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state.

But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–

“Woah, little lady.”

You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away.

You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.

You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.

“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders.

“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.”

And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head.

“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you.

It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too?

You’re humiliated.

And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really.

You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.

“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?”

You weakly shake your head.

“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.

“What did he do to you?”

Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder.

The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now.

“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.

“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.”

He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself.

“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”

You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective.

But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself.

‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.”

Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.

“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting.

More silence.

“Was gonna stay and never leave.”

“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you.

You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room.

“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you.

“It’s more so what he didn’t do.”

Silence again.

“What did he fucking do?”

You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it.

There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.

“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.”

Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.

If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon.

It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.

He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”

You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon.

“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose.

And you fall asleep like that. Warm.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left.

Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it.

This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?

Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering.

And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.

And it still hurts.

It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to.

Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.

Fucking vampires.

It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair.

Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon.

By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down.

No one has left. No one has gone inside.

Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.

Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible.

You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much.

Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.

You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet.

The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.

Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again.

He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety.

They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.”

You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face.

“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”

After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.

You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now.

“Yeah, but, eventually.”

Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it.

It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock.

With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really.

He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it.

To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you.

Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.

There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you.

You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it.

“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone.

“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears.

A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with.

Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on.

You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.

“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.

And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too.

It’s not all for you.

For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too.

It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else?

He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too.

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”

You freeze, falling apart instantly.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”

You wish you would tell him too.

But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly.

Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis.

You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon.

Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.

“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.”

He nods.

“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”

He’s right. He’s always right.

And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too.

“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.

“Wha-”

“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.”

“Wait, what?”

Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.

“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.

Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?!

Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”

Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic.

He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore.

“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.”

And you do cry again.

“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?”

You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit.

The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.

Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.

But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible.

And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try.

“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”

“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.”

Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere.

“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?

“He was with someone else.”

Jungwon shakes his head in pity.

“What a scumbag. A total freak.”

“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.”

“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”

And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue.

“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.

“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.

He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you.

Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things.

“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it.

Still, the scent of cinnamon.

“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker.

Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.

You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile.

“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.”

You smile bigger now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself.

You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on.

Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too.

And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore.

Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now?

After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display.

Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay.

Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing.

The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you.

Thankfully, he gets to do both those things.

And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you.

That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.

“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”

You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.

“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.”

He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does.

“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”

“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”

Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.

Still.

“You could just sleep in my old ro–”

“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.”

He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this.

“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.”

You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place.

In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–

Yeah. You would have done something dramatic.

You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.

If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still.

And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple.

“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X.

“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”

He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here.

It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway.

And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise.

No overthinking.

It’s just a short trip.

Jungwon will be back before you wake up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah, to think it’s over.

To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.

As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal.

Jungwon was the ward.

Was.

Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go

You truly wake up.

Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed.

Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now.

All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life.

Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward.

Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you.

You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him.

As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you?

He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.

“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.”

You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.

Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.

“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”

You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along.

“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?”

You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat.

“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”

Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too.

But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too?

“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.

He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you.

On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him.

Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.

“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?”

You’ve never been happier.

And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point.

Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you.

He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.

That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes.

But your eyes are sparkling for him.

“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”

“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him.

You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself.

His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him.

Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now.

“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.

“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.”

He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him.

Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do.

He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you.

No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.

He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.

“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.

There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you.

Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.

He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.

“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.”

“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating.

“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”

Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway.

“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?”

He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration.

“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”

And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.

“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.”

You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath.

“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.”

You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too.

“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”

He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep you forever.

“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.”

And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own.

But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it.

Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose.

If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer.

If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.

He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe.

Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can.

You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…

You feel…different. Like he feels differently.

And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.

Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say.

So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane.

To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.

“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”

Oh, it clicks.

And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions.

The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him.

He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes.

And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night.

Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery.

Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you.

It’s always you.

And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you.

All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it.

It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.

Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back.

You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you.

“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?”

You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.

He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair.

He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer.

“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”

And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.

“Let me have you.”

You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do.

“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it.

Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything.

And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment.

He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you.

Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm.

And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it.

It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep.

You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.

“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.” Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince. “Will you still sound so lovely?”

You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him.

Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.

Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is.

And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans.

Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more.

Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything.

And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it.

The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.

And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises.

“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.”

And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer.

He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.

“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him.

And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either.

It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.

God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.

So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.

And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here.

Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you.

The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you.

You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him.

“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.

You shift against him, turning to face him entirely.

As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire.

This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever?

As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person.

Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take.

And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.

The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life.

It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years.

It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones.

Death.

Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.

Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings.

But…a companion.

The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you.

So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want.

Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you.

Without the lure. Without the manipulation.

Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck.

That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours.

The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you.

A new feeling.

Anxiety.

Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise.

And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.

There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales.

You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it.

Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly?

“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it.

He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard. Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you.

“I can give it all to you.”

You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.

“Sunghoo-”

“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying.

You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it.

“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.

Oh.

Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?

“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”

“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.

“You can be like me, my love.”

Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you.

But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever.

And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending.

Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely.

Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him.

Die. Only to live forever?

You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make.

“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.”

You shake your head again, but then…you nod.

“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself.

“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.

“Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.

And the thought pains him.

If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.

“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him.

“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?”

“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”

You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.

What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?

But to die…

And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end.

Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.

You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon.

“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.

You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you.

“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.”

You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy.

“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.”

Oh. Okay.

“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.”

“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle.

“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”

A pause, you hear him chuckle.

“I really despise numbers.”

In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable.

“Did you come for the cathedral?”

He nods, holding you against him even tighter.

“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.”

“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”

“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?”

You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!

“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!”

“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”

He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you.

“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns.

You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace.

Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.

And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…

Oh. Wow.

“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity.

“Why is that? Can you tell me?”

You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.

“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist.

“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”

“Maybe it’s because I want it?”

“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.”

He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him.

“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.”

“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “

He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it.

“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.”

Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him.

“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”

He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will.

“You could be mine, forever.”

You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.

And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here.

“I could be yours, forever.”

“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”

And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go.

Finally, he can let go.

The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding.

The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this.

But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.

You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions.

He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back?

Darling, you asked for this.

And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.

He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being.

How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you?

“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now.

So, so beautiful.

You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him.

And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.

Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now.

You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards.

Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping.

If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life.

It hurts.

Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain.

You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already.

And then, darkness.

Nothing.

And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love.

Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems.

To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing.

Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?

Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.

So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once.

That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.

A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold.

It doesn’t hurt.

Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy.

And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being.

No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.

And yet still, it doesn’t hurt.

Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood.

And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.

But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would.

“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again.

He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him.

After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced.

Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp.

He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own.

You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him.

You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him.

“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.”

You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.

Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again.

“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.

On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier.

“I–”

Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe.

“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again.

“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.”

And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head.

Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.

To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst.

Never once has he wanted someone like this.

And never once had he expected you to agree with him.

The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone.

A forever companion, truly this time.

And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless.

“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”

You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren’t for that suffocating scent entering your nose.

Roses? No, tulips?

Lavender?

Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet.

Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet.

Disappearing.

After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.

Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other.

Your brain is empty at the scent.

“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”

Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut.

A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent.

“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!”

Oh, what a shame.

You really loved Jungwon.

“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief.

Your first feeling of thirst.

“Shall I greet him?”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–

There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay.

He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here.

“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy.

“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.”

It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them.

He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.

As beautiful as it was.

Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.

“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.”

There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy.

You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him.

And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you.

For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.

After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him.

Did you truly miss him so much?

“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah”

You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point.

Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact.

All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.

And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to.

It appears he does as well.

As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–

Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.

The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now.

And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight.

Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go.

If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.

Even if you’re the leech.

Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him.

And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort.

Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least.

And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose.

“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.”

You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall.

“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon.

“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?”

Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue.

“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”

You pause at his scrunched nose.

“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”

“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.

“You tell me.”

You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet.

“I have never tasted anything compared to it…”

“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.”

You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost.

Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth.

Not Jungwon though.

“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood.

You frantically shake your head.

“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near.

He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you.

If that includes Jungwon….

Ah, always so fucking stubborn.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun rises and falls.

Repeatedly, for months.

Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air.

Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.

The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you.

His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.

And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake.

You: wonnie

Wonnie: wat

You: come over

Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning.

You: and you were fighting it? asshole

Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky

And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.

Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you.

And it works.

Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead.

You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic.

Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha smut

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bossbtch1 · 8 months

Text

Forbidden Reunion

Summary : You managed to escape from Loki after discovering his lies. Aware that both he and the TVA would be searching for you, you prayed they wouldn't succeed. However, now Loki stood in front of you and he had no intentions of letting you go.

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic, Obsessive, Yandere

Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Non-con, Dubious Consent, Forced Blowjob, Forced Orgasm, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Breeding, Overstimulation (let me know if I missed any lol)

Word Count: 10k

A/N : Sorry it took me too long to post this, juggling this alongside my other story took some time. But as promised, I'm releasing this one first.

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. I've warned you, this fic isn't for the faint-hearted.

This took in Loki season 2 based on that shadow play.

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

Exhausted from years of evading both Loki and the TVA. Tonight, you found yourself in a bar, a moment to escape the chaos for years and hoping for a chance encounter. Despite your past with Loki, you were eager to move forward and explore new relationships, you have your own needs, and the more time went on, you knew they could not be sated by yourself anymore.

You could use your power to manipulate them into sleeping with you, but you knew it was wrong, you were sure there was a natural progression you just needed to be patient, and maybe your powers were going to waste being used to keep you hidden from the TVA.

Your mind drifted back to Loki, the god of Mischief and how he lied to you, manipulated you.

Flashback

"I'm sorry to say this, but you have been deceived by him," the TVA agent asserted. You turned your back on her as you attempted to escape, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Loki. You had become separated during the chaotic chase within the TVA headquarters.

"No, I'm not. Loki wouldn't lie to me," you defended him, your voice laced with unwavering belief.

"Is he? Tell me, what did he say to you, the reason he got caught?" the agent probed, her tone challenging.

"He tried to rule Earth and failed," you replied, recalling the events that had led to his capture.

She seemed surprised that you knew. "Yes, and whose fault was that?" she pressed further.

“Yes, I know it was his.” You admitted, frustration seeping into your words, “But it stemmed from his deep-seated need for approval and love, especially from a father who resented him for being adopted." Despite the firmness in your tone, a flicker of doubt shadowed your eyes, making you question whether you were convincing the agent or merely grappling with your own uncertainties.

"Is that the whole story? Or just a part he wants you to believe?" Her words hung heavy in the air.

"He's the trickster god, the silvertongue," she continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "Manipulation is in his nature. Don't fall for his lies."

"Hello? Hey?" You heard a voice bringing you back from your daydream. "Can I buy you a drink?"

You looked up, it was a handsome man who had sat down beside you. You smiled, not wanting to appear rude. "Yes, please," you said.

He smiled, "I'm Mark."

"Y/N," you said.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he smiled.

You returned his smile. You enjoyed his company as you chatted and laughed, his eyes sparkled as he listened to you talk, you knew you were making him blush when you teased him, he was sweet, and you knew he liked you.

Conversation flowed easily between you two. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at ease with a stranger, the feeling was new and exciting. He seemed so genuinely interested in what you had to say and you felt as if he actually understood what was going on in your life.

"Do you want to come to my place? I've got a bottle of whiskey that needs drinking," he smiled.

"Sure, why not?" you said, downing the rest of your drink. This was your chance to get what you've been craving, and what better way to start than with a handsome man inviting you to his place?

Then someone spilled his drink onto Mark, ruining his white shirt.

"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" he yelled at the man. "Watch where you're going, asshole." He shouted in frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, man, I tripped," the other man said, his voice calmed.

You recognize the voice.

It was Mobius.

Your heart raced, and you couldn't believe that he had managed to track you down. Paralyzed with fear, you sat there, feeling the color drain from your face as you stared at him in disbelief. If Mobius was here then that meant that Loki wasn't far behind.

Mark was fuming, he stormed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone, and you wanted desperately to call out, to warn him not to leave you by yourself, but fear kept your words trapped in your throat.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your name was like poison on his lips.

"Loki," you hissed back, turning around to face him.

He looked exactly the same as the last time you'd seen him, his black hair was neatly styled, his green eyes were piercing, and his face was pale. His expression was serious, his jaw set and his eyes cold, he looked so different from the Loki you had known and fallen in love with.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms sweaty with anxiety, and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the bar.

"I missed you, pet. I have been worried," his tone was mocking and his smirk didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't lie, Loki," you shot back, glaring at him.

"You know, you've always been so difficult."

"And you're an asshole."

Loki didn't say anything, instead he reached for your wrist and held it tight. "Let me go! You fucking liar, I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me," you shouted, struggling against his grip.

"Little one, don't make a scene." he growled in your ear.

Your eyes pleaded with Mobius, who stood caught between the two of you. "Are you just going to stand there and let this happen?" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation.

Mobius sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness in his eyes. "I'll leave you be for now then," he said, his tone heavy with regret. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned away, leaving you to face Loki's wrath alone.

"How about I give you a choice," he said, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Either you can come home willingly, or I can use my magic to knock you out and bring you home. Which do you prefer?" The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving you trapped in a lose-lose situation.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Loki!" you hissed, your voice laced with defiance as you struggled against his grip. Every fiber of your being screamed resistance, but you knew the sheer force of his magic could easily overpower you.

"Very well then," he purred, his lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he waived his hand, ready to use his magic.

"Wait!" You blurted, holding up your hands to stop him, your voice trembled as the weight of your decision bore down upon you.

"Yes, little one?" he asked, his tone condescending and smug.

"I'll come willingly," you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It was a lie, a desperate attempt to buy some time.

"But can I go to the bathroom first?" You clung to the hope that a brief moment alone might offer a chance, your mind racing for an escape plan.

"Alright," Loki agreed, his tone oddly accommodating. "Go on, pet." He nodded towards the restroom.

You hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic eyes searched for your tempad, only to realize it was gone. "Asshole!" you muttered under your breath, realizing that Loki must have taken it when he grabbed your arm.

You had no escape plan, and Loki was waiting for you. You looked for a way out, but the windows were too small for you to climb through, so you thought it would be best to just run through the door and run far away from the bar.

Gathering your courage, you unlocked the door and burst out, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. Behind you, you could hear Loki's enraged shout, "Y/N!" His voice boomed, fueling your determination to run as far and as fast as you could from the bar.

"Y/N! Y/N!" you could hear him getting closer and closer. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "Y/N, stop now!"

"FUCK OFF!" you screamed, frustration and fear fueling your voice. You cast a desperate glance behind you and saw Loki hot on your heels. "Fuck!" you whispered under your breath.

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the fear of being caught was overwhelming. "Fuck, no! Not again!" you thought.

You were annoyed by the people "Move! Move! Please!" You screamed at the people that were blocking the road, but they wouldn't move.

"Fuck you!" One guy shouted back at you after you pushed him away.

You couldn't run anymore. You were too slow, and he was gaining on you, and you knew that you couldn't escape him. But you need to keep trying, you couldn't give up. You were running, and running, and running.

The pain was too much, your muscles ached, and your lungs burned. Your vision was blurred, and you couldn't focus. You were tired of running and out of breath, you leaned against a wall and rested, hoping Loki wouldn't see you.

However, your respite was short-lived. In a blink, Loki teleported right in front of you, his expression oddly calm. "Pet, we have been searching for you for a long time, you hid well." He said, his tone icy.

"You can't be fucking serious!" you hissed, "Why did you look for me? I left for a reason, you betrayed my trust. You used me, and I hate you."

"Little one, why are you angry at me?"

"Are you really asking that, you lying snake?" Pushing him away, you shouted, and sprinted away from him once more, your determination fueling your escape.

You didn't make it far, though, before you felt a familiar, freezing hand grasp your arm, tugging you backward and pulling you against a cold, solid form.

"I don't appreciate it you calling me that."

You gasped, and tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like steel, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't free yourself from him. "I don't care! Let me go!"

He ignored your pleas, then you pulled out a knife from your pocket. You knew he could've easily taken the knife, but instead he let you go, "You think you can hurt me, little one? How adorable." he cooed, his voice silky smooth.

"I'll fucking kill you!"

He laughed again mocking you, "Do you want to try? Do you think you can stab me with that knife, pet?"

You didn't answer, instead you held the knife up, threatening him, "Loki, you don't want to make me angry." You knew that was stupid of you saying that.

He smirked, he wasn't afraid of you, and he wasn't intimidated by you. "You are so cute when you are mad," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes were dark.

"Put the knife down, and we can go home, pet" he offered.

"Fuck you, Loki," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you stood your ground, the knife still clutched tightly in your hand.

He grinned, "Oh, you will soon enough, pet." He let out a low chuckle and he snapped his finger and the knife flew from your hand to the wall. You watched in horror, you didn’t have anything else on you to defend yourself from him.

He began to advance toward you, a predator toying with his prey. Panic surged through you, urging you to flee. Yet, no matter how fast you ran, Loki always reappeared before you.

His voice dripped with amusement, "Come on, pet. Do you really think you can outrun me?" His grin widened, relishing the chase as if it were sort of a game to him.

"You won't ever escape me, pet. Even if you manage to get away from me, I will always find you again and again. You will be mine, whether you want to or not." He declared, his tone possessive and chilling. He stood before you, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

"I won't stop fighting you," you vowed, your voice filled with defiance, glaring at him as he advanced toward you. Desperation fueled your steps as you ran, but he always caught up to you, teleporting right in front of you, a relentless pursuit that seemed endless.

"You can't run forever, pet," he taunted, his eyes dark and menacing, his voice deep and husky. “Eventually, I’ll catch up to you.”

You were getting tired of running. "Come on, pet. Are we playing a game?" He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty street. The bastard was enjoying this twisted cat-and-mouse chase.

"Just stop!" you cried out, your frustration boiling over.

"Why would I stop? This is the most fun I've had in years, darling. I enjoy seeing you run, it's quite entertaining."

"Shut up." You tried to run away again, your breaths ragged. "Quit your magic, and fight fair!" Deep down, you knew if you were in a one-on-one combat with him, without his magic, you could win. "If you win, I'll come willingly."

"That's not how this works, little one," he chided, his tone laced with amusement.

You felt the anger boiling inside of you, but you continued to run. Each step echoed in the empty alley as you tried to escape his relentless pursuit. "Leave me alone then!" you shouted, desperation lacing your voice.

To your horror, your movements came to an abrupt stop. Loki stood in front of you, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Frantically, you turned around, only to find him there again, mocking your attempts to escape. Panic set in as you attempted to flee in the opposite direction, but there he was once more, his presence haunting you like a nightmare.

"What the fuck is going on?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your voice. How was he everywhere? How was he doing this? Your mind raced with questions as you stepped back, trying to distance yourself from the three identical Loki that surrounded you.

Were you tripping, or is there really three of them?

Loki's chuckle reverberated around you, a haunting sound that sent chills down your spine. Frustration boiled within you, and you screamed in exasperation, "How are you doing that?" Your voice wavered, trembling with a mixture of frustration and fear as you desperately demanded answers.

His grin widened as he continued to toy with your sanity. "Oh, come now, surely you know a trick or two, you being a witch and all," he taunted, the words laced with mocking arrogance.

You took slow steps backward as the three Loki remained in front of you, your resolve mingling with confusion and growing fear. "I'm not a witch, you... asshole," you retorted.

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath near your ear, and his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "It's called an illusion, little one," he whispered, the hot air tickling your earlobe. You jolted away from him, only to find another Loki standing in front of you, and you jumped yet again.

Fear gripped you, not of him, but of the overwhelming confusion and frustration that clouded your senses. The relentless onslaught of illusions left you feeling disoriented, unable to discern reality from the intricate tricks he was playing.

"Please stop," you pleaded.

"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Your tricks. I'm not stupid, stop," you demanded, your voice growing firmer despite the fear gripping your heart.

The three Loki slowly closed in on you, each step they took making your heart race faster. You retreated, trying to create distance, but soon your back met the unyielding wall. There was no escape. Your mind raced, your heart pounded, and you breathed heavily, trapped in a nightmare of your own making.

Suddenly, you felt an invisible force restraining your hands, pinning them against the wall. You looked around frantically, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. Panic clawed at your throat as you realized you were immobilized.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go."

"I don't think I will, my little pet," Loki said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Suddenly, Mobius reappeared beside Loki, seemingly out of thin air. "A little over the top, don’t you think, all the shadow play?" he commented, his tone disapproving.

Loki smirked, unrepentant. "I thought it was spot on."

Mobius turned his attention to you, his expression filled with concern. "What are you trying to do to the poor girl?" he asked.

"I'm merely making a point," Loki replied casually, as if discussing the weather and your distress was nothing more than a game.

Mobius shook his head and lightly chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you are. That's why she looks like a frightened rabbit."

"I'm still here? Hello?” They were casually talking like you were invincible, despite being bound to a wall. Their attention shifted to you, and you erupted, "Mobius, what the hell? Arrest him! What are you doing!" Panic and anger laced your words, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't do that. I made a deal with Loki," Mobius responded, his tone regretful yet resolute.

You felt a chill run down your spine. "What fucking deal?" You asked, your voice trembling. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm not going to do anything. But Loki, on the other hand..." he chuckled darkly. "Well, the deal is, we only need you alive. That's all I'm saying. My lips are sealed," Mobius replied with a cryptic smile.

You didn't have a chance to process his words before the Loki closest to you began circling you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Your heartbeat wildly, fear coursing through your veins as he trailed his finger along your arm, his touch light and teasing in suspense.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, let me go!" you shrieked, your panic and anger rising. "Mobius you fucking bitch, you are nothing but a- MMM" abruptly, as the shadow silenced you, turning your pleas into incoherent whispers.

Mobius sighed, shaking his head. "Now you're just showing off," he admonished.

"I can't help it, you bring out the worst in me."

Loki stepped in front of you and leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. His fingers trailed along your jaw, his touch feather-light and tantalizing. You were struggling to break free from his hold, but your body remained paralyzed, at his mercy.

Loki, leaning casually against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle at your futile struggles. "Oh, little one," he purred, his tone mocking and condescending. "There's no use in fighting. You won't be able to break free. Trust me."

"Now, be a good girl and remain still," Loki said, his smile cruel and unsettling as he locked eyes with you, a twisted affection glinting in his gaze.

"Loki, take it easy on her. She's just a young girl, after all." Mobius interjected, his voice laced with a hint of compassion, though his eyes conveyed a different story. "Make sure to control your pet, Loki.” Mobius emphasized before vanishing into thin air.

You screamed was incoherent since your mouth was being covered by the shadow, you tried to say "Help!" and "No" but nothing came out.

Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, darling. Don't try to speak, or scream, or fight. You can't escape, and no one is going to save you. No one will hear you, the only sound you will make is your moans."

Fear gripped you, the uncertainty of Loki's intentions leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.

He advanced toward you, his steps deliberate and predatory. "Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic anticipation, "let the fun begin, pet."

With a snap of his fingers, Loki dispelled the shadow covering your mouth, granting you the ability to speak again. "Get off me, Laufeyson!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with defiance. You strained against your restraints, desperate to escape his grasp. "This is wrong. You're crazy psychopath."

"Oh, pet," he said, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "We've done far worse together."

Frustration and fear gripped you as you struggled against your bindings, pleading, " Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A dark chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he replied, "You know why."

"Please, just let me go." You pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice.

Loki's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with possessiveness. "I'm afraid I can't do that, love. You belong to me."

"No, I don't! I'm not yours," you protested vehemently. You writhed against the magical restraints, a mixture of anger and fear fueling your struggles. His control over you felt like a violation, and you despised him for it, for using his magic against you in such a cruel manner.

"Oh, pet," Loki purred, his voice dripping with both mockery and desire. "You can fight all you want, but you'll never win, not when it comes to me." He leaned in, his lips grazing your neck in a chilling caress. You whimpered as he sucked on your skin, his teeth scraping lightly.

"Stop. Please," you begged, your voice trembling.

"But why would I stop," he replied, his tone silkier than ever, "when I'm having so much fun?" His words hung in the air, laden with sadistic pleasure.

"I hate you. I will never stop hating you," you spat out, your words laced with a fierce determination, even in the face of your vulnerability.

Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, "You don't truly hate me, little one. You merely pretend to. I see through the façade. I know what lies beneath."

"What the hell are you talking about, Loki?" you shot back.

"Stop being such a brat," he sneered. The shadow binding both your wrists kept you firmly against the wall, his control unyielding. "Do you like being restrained, hmm? Enjoy the feeling of someone else in control, knowing you can't escape, and no one will help you?" His face hovered dangerously close to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“No! Stop that nonsense!” You lied, you were scared, and angry, but you also secretly enjoyed being under his control whether you wanted to admit it or not.

He hummed and kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your ear and you felt shivers down your spine. “Fuck, how I miss you.” His voice was deep and commanding, sending tingles of pleasure throughout your body.

"Please, stop. Just leave me alone. Don't do this to me, please."

"Oh, little one. You know I can't do that." He said as his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every inch of you, making you feel so vulnerable. You felt the heat rise between your legs and your heart raced faster.

"I can smell your arousal, pet.” He lightly bit your neck. “Your body betrays you. It craves my touch, just as much as you do," he said, his voice laced with a sinister confidence. "You want me, even if you refuse to admit it."

You met his gaze with defiance, attempting to deny the truth he claimed. "You're delusional," you retorted, your words aimed at rejecting his manipulative influence.

"Am I?" Loki's eyes bore into yours, a predatory glint flickering in their depths. "Your heart, your mind, your body—they all long for me, even if you deny it. You can't escape this, no matter how hard you try. I will always find you, even if I have to tear the universe apart to get you back."

Loki was right. Your body was betraying you. The wetness was getting more intense by the minute, you could feel the pleasure building up, but you couldn't let yourself fall into temptation, he had hurt you, lied to you, manipulated you, used you, and now he was going to take you against your will.

You had to fight him.

You had to escape him.

You couldn't let him take you.

Not like this.

But you wanted more, and you knew that Loki would give you everything you wanted and more. You could feel the pleasure building up. You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your breasts. You felt a rush of anger, "What are you doing? You're using your magic to seduce me, aren't you?"

He met your accusation with a knowing grin. "I don't need magic to seduce you.” He countered, “Your body responds to me naturally, so beautifully. It's like a drug, and once I've had a taste, I'm hooked. I can't get enough of you."

You felt his lips on your neck. His kisses were soft and tender. You gasped as his tongue licked your neck, trailing down your collarbone. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as his fingers pinched your nipple.

You felt he smirked and you tried not to moan, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was affecting you. But he could read your mind, and he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were feeling. He was inside your head.

"Just stop."

"Not until I'm finished with you. Not until you're begging for more. Begging for my cock inside of you. Begging for me." He slammed your back against the wall, and you yelped as you hit it hard.

He had you caged, and your legs were starting to tremble. You didn't know if it was from the force or the intensity of his words. You tried to push him away but he was stronger than you. His body was pressed against yours. He then kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel his body against yours.

He was a good kisser, and he knew what he was doing. You were moaning into the kiss, and you were fighting to keep control. Then you felt his cock growing hard. You gasped and that was when you realized what was going on. In a desperate act of defiance, you bit down hard, drawing blood. You tasted it.

He pulled back momentarily caught off guard. He looked like a maniac, and you had to remind yourself not to be afraid of him. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he wiped the blood away with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "I like that," he said, his voice low and dark, his grin widening.

You stared at him, and you felt your eyes widen in shock. You felt your heart race. You were still struggling against him, and you tried to pull your hand free from his restraints, but it was useless.

"Oh, pet," he sneered, his tone laced with malice. "I'll make you pay for that defiance."

"What are you planning? Torture me?" you challenged back.

"Torture is such a crude term," he replied, his words dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I prefer 'punish'. After all, you've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be disciplined."

Your eyes narrowed, a fierce glare aimed his way. "You can't do anything to break me. You can't force me to feel anything. You have no control over me."

He laughed, "Is that so? You know nothing about me, love. Nothing. If I had my way, I would've taken you to my bed, and kept you there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, naked, helpless, at my mercy. But I can't do that, yet. However, that doesn't mean I can't have fun."

"You're insane. I despise you," you retorted, your words heavy with hatred.

"That's fine," he replied, his tone oddly calm. "I'm used to people hating me. It's just a matter of time before they change their minds. And I'll have you. One way or another, you're mine."

"Go to hell."

"Only if you come with me."

You felt a chill run down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver. You couldn't stop thinking about the things he had said. About how you were his. You tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were persistent.

You accidentally clenched your pussy at his words, you hoped he didn't notice.

He chuckled, the sound sending chills down your spine. "Oh, pet, that's adorable," he taunted, his grin widening with malicious amusement. "Do you like the thought of that, pet?" Loki's eyes glittered with dark intent, sensing the conflict within you, and it only served to fuel his sadistic amusement.

"No!" You denied.

"Then why did you clench your pussy, hmm? Was it because you were imagining me taking you?"

"It was just a reflex," you stammered, attempting to deny the undeniable truth.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice a dark, taunting whisper. His smirk widened, and he moved his face closer to yours until there were mere inches between your lips. "You're lying, love."

"I won't let you slip away again," he whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat, making each breath a struggle. His eyes bore into yours. "I will make you mine."

He tightened his grip around your throat and slammed your back against the wall, your head hit the wall with a loud thud. You couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable. Tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.

But this was making you turned on, despite how much you hated Loki, you couldn't deny that he was hot and the way he was being rough with you was making your pussy throb.

"You'll see. It's time to begin your training, pet." He whispered as his hands travelled lower, caressing your inner thigh. "Please, Loki."

"Shhh, shh." He pressed his finger against your lips, "Save your begging."

“Fuck you!”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I would love to do that right now, but I think we should save it for later."

"You bastard!" you spat, your anger seething.

"Watch your language, pet," he sneered, his grip tightening as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw. "Now, be a good girl and open your mouth." He took a piece of cloth out of his pocket. It was green.

"Hell No! I won't do it. I won't cooperate." You retorted, like who in the world would agree to that?

He sighed. "You know, you really are a stubborn little thing. It's adorable. But, it won't get you anywhere. In fact, it'll just make things worse."

You stared at him. You couldn't believe what was happening. How could he be so cruel? So evil? He chuckled. "I told you. You're not in control here. I am. Now, open your mouth."

“Never.”

"Fine. Then I'll do it for you." He used his magic to force open your mouth, his magic was painful, and it burned. You could barely move. He put the cloth in your mouth and tied it around your head. You tried to scream but couldn't.

"So pretty," he said as he stroked your cheek. "You should be grateful that I'm even letting you use this, instead of forcing you to be silent. And remember, the gag stays on unless I say otherwise. Understand?"

You shook your head mumbling, "Mmff, no."

"That's too bad," he mused, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if you try to remove the gag, I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"

"Nnooo, I don't," you mumbled, your voice barely audible through the gag.

"Good girl," he purred. "You'll get used to it."

With a swift motion, he removed the shadow restraints from your arms, and you immediately attempted to fight back, you tried to hit him, but he easily dodged your blow. His grip iron-strong when he caught your hand. "Careful, pet," he cautioned, his voice a dangerous whisper. "My patience wears thin."

Using his powers, he summoned the shadow to immobilize you once more, pinning you against the wall, this time including your legs. You were rendered utterly helpless, trapped in his web of darkness.

"Now, let's begin," he said, his voice oozing with menace. You remained tied up, gagged, and entirely at his merciless mercy.

He took out a dagger from his belt and cut through your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed. "Oh my, that's a nice sight."

You let out a muffled scream, "You don't need clothes. They will only get in the way."

He began kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. "Mmf," You moaned softly as his lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. He cupped your breast and teased your nipple.

"Mmff No..."

He ignored your protests and continued to play with your nipples.

"You like that, don't you? I can feel how wet you are, darling." He whispered into your ear.

"Mmmff." You tried to deny, but he could hear your thoughts.

He smirked. "I bet if I put my fingers inside you right now, they'd slide right in. I bet you're dripping wet for me, aren't you, my sweet?"

"Mmf."

"You don't need to speak, little one," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Just relax. I know what you want."

His hand glided down your thigh, his touch sending electric sparks through your skin, until he slipped his fingers under the hem of your dress and traced the edge of your panties. "And it seems that your body agrees with me," he continued, "It's telling me that it's ready to submit to me."

You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were thinking.

"Come on, pet. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and found him staring at you, his gaze darkened with hunger and desire.

"There you go. Such a good girl." He praised you.

He slid your panties to the side and his fingers found your pussy, already dripping wet. "Oh, you're so wet, pet. Do you want me that much? Do you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

He slid your panties to the side and cupped your pussy. "Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slipped between your folds, "You're already dripping for me."

You blushed furiously as he rubbed your clit in slow, gentle circles.

"Yes," he said, his voice deepening, "Your body wants me. It wants me to take you and make you mine."

His finger pressed against your entrance and then pushed into you, making you gasp. He curled it and began to massage your G-spot. You bit your lip and moaned, trying not to make too much noise. You tried to squirm away from him, but it was no use.

You clenched your fists, struggling to hold back the moan threatening to escape your lips. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and the Loki behind you laughed softly. "No. You're not getting away from me."

You whimpered as he thrust another finger into you, stretching you even further. He began pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, making you gasp and moan under the gagged cloth. His fingers worked their magic, sliding in and out of you, rubbing your G-spot with each stroke. He kept a steady rhythm, keeping you on the edge.

You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, the sensation driving you mad. The Loki in front of you watched intently as he continued to pleasure you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and amusement as you struggled to keep control. "Oh, little one," he said, "I love seeing you like this. So desperate. So needy. So fucking sexy." His other hand gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

"You're so wet," he murmured, "You're practically begging me to fuck you."

"Mmfff." You tried to ignore him, but he curled his fingers and stroked you just right, and your hips bucked involuntarily. You were quickly approaching your orgasm, and it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning loudly.

Loki leaned in and nipped at your neck, and you shivered as his breath caressed your skin. "But I won't. Not yet. First, I want to watch you come. I want to see your face when you orgasm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come."

His fingers thrusting into your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. You were so close, and you knew that he could sense it. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're doing so well. Now, tell me... do you want to cum?" He pumped them faster, deeper.

You shook your head. You didn't want to come, you tried to resist, but you were too far gone. You felt the pressure building in your core, the pleasure was too much.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Then let's see how long you can last."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. He thrust a third finger into your pussy and continued his assault on your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers, and you were so close. You could feel the heat rising in your belly, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer. You shook your head at him begging him not to make you come.

"Come on pet, don't fight it, just let it happen. Give into the pleasure. Come for me."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. "Yes, that's it," he whispered, "Just a little bit longer, you're so close."

He was relentless, his fingers working your pussy expertly. "Nnnn." You tried to tell him that you weren't going to let him win, but you couldn't speak.

You could feel the pleasure building and you knew that he could sense it. He kept pumping his fingers and rubbing your clit, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your pussy was so wet, his fingers were sliding in and out so easily. You felt the orgasm approaching, the pressure was building, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"You're going to come, whether you want to or not. So, don't fight it, just let it happen."

"Mmmmmm"

"Yes. You can't stop it. I'm going to make you come."

He continued to thrust his fingers, his thumb circling your clit, the pressure building until you could take it no more. He removed the gagged from your mouth, "Let me hear your moans, pet."

You let out a loud cry, unable to contain it. "That's it. You're so close, I can feel it.” Your back arched and you cried out, his fingers and thumb pushing you over the edge. "Come for me, my sweet. Come for me. Now." He curled his fingers inside you and bit your neck.

You screamed and bucked as the orgasm took you, and he didn't let up. He continued to pump his fingers and rub your clit, pushing you further and further until you couldn't take it anymore. You thrashed about as the pleasure was too much, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.

Your body writhing against his fingers. Your release was so intense that it made your whole body shudder. He held you tightly, his fingers still moving in and out of your pussy, drawing out your orgasm.

"There we go," he said, smiling down at you. "Such a good girl. You're such a good girl for me, pet."

You were a panting, sweating, mess, and you were exhausted.

He kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out of you. You were glad the shadow was there restraining you or you would collapse.

After you came down from your high, you realized what just happened. You spat at him, "Fuck you, Loki. You're disgusting."

"Disgusting?" He raised his eyebrows. "Now, why would you say that, little one? Was it not good for you? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."

"Get the fuck away from me." you spat, your voice filled with venom.

He laughed, "You don't get to tell me what to do, little one. I'm not done with you yet."

"You fucking monster," you screamed, "I'm not going to let you touch me."

He grinned and grabbed your hair, pulling you towards him. "Watch your mouth, pet. I don't like hearing you use foul language. Now, since I was so kind to give you such a nice orgasm, will you be a good girl and obey me without any fuss?"

You rolled your eyes. "Like hell I will!"

He smirked in response. "Since I've been rather kind to you," Loki began, his eyes roaming over your body, "I have a proposition for you."

Though you had little desire to hear anything he had to say, your curiosity got the best of you, compelling you to reluctantly listen.

"Do you want me to fuck you here, right now in this alley, or in our room where we will be alone, and no one will interrupt us." He said with a smirk.

Your throat tightened, both options he presented were equally horrifying. But, the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you two here, like this. "Neither.” you choked out.

"That wasn't an option, my sweet."

You glared at him, "You're vile," you hissed

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by your words. "You say the most hurtful things, pet."

"I'm not going to choose," you declared, "I'm not choosing anything. I'd rather die than have sex with you."

He looked amused. "Fine, then I will choose. You have a few seconds to think about it." He said as he took his jacket off, and dropped it to the ground.

"You're going to take me right here? You're an animal."

"It's your fault for refusing. If you choose the other option, I was going to be nice. I'll be rough if you insist."

"If you touch me, I'll kill you." You growled.

He laughed. "Oh, little one. It's not me you have to worry about."

Ignoring your warning, he reached forward, his touch cold against your skin, and ran his thumb along your lower lip. "Shame that I have to punish you. I'm sure you'll be a good girl after today."

You gritted your teeth and move your face away from his touch, "Don't touch me."

He ignored your demand, and began undoing his pants. He pulled his cock out, and started stroking it. You stared at his member and he was already rock hard. You hesitated, not wanting to touch him.

"Are you afraid, my sweet?"

You remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.

He laughed, “There's no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Unless you disobey me."

He moved closer, his proximity suffocating. With a swift, unwelcome touch, he reached out and stroked your cheek. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch away from his caress.

"Relax, darling. This will be pleasurable for the both of us." He said as he grabbed his cock and ran it against your slit.

You felt your wetness seep onto his cock.

"STOP!" you screamed, your voice breaking the tense atmosphere, forcing him to halt his actions and look up at you.

He smiled at you. "Do you want me to stop, pet?"

You nodded frantically, desperation clouding your eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Tell me," he purred, his tone dripping with cruelty, "why should I stop?"

You scrambled for an excuse, your mind racing. "Let's do it in your place then," you stammered, your words rushed. "Please? I don't want anyone to see." Desperation clung to your voice as you pleaded, hoping against hope that he would agree to your request.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, pet. You know that won't work."

He pressed his cock against your pussy again.

You felt his tip slip inside you. "PLEASE! I'll be good, just please stop."

He smiled. "I like the sound of that."

He sighed, "Very well, little one." He swiftly pulled up his pants, adjusted his shirt, and retrieved his jacket, freeing you in the process. You winced as you flexed your arms, the restraints having taken their toll.

With a snap of a finger, he put your clothes back on, and you felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You couldn't believe he stopped. He looked at you. "Remember what I said, pet. You don't speak about this to anyone. I'll know if you do. Understand?"

You nodded.

"Good girl," he affirmed.

"Come," he motioned for you to follow him, and for a moment, you considered fleeing again, knowing full well that it branded you a coward. But the terror of Loki's power held you in check.

You didn't get far before he seized you once more. "Enough!" he bellowed, sending you crashing to the ground. Your body felt numb, the pain overwhelming. You begged through the agony, "Please."

"You brought this on yourself, pet," Loki's tone was icy, disappointment etched in his features. "I was going to take care of you, give everything you desired, and all I asked in return was your love and trust. And you broke it."

"Please, Loki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.

He shook his head, "No, pet. There is no going back. You have to pay the price for what you've done," he stated firmly, his grip unyielding.

Loki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, "Sweet dreams my pet."

And then, everything faded into darkness.

When you woke up, you were on the bed, naked. The room was dark, and there was no sign of Loki. At least right now your arms and legs weren’t bounded. But still he had kidnapped you. "Fucking asshole!" You cursed inside your head.

Then you heard footsteps approaching outside, you pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he'd leave. "I know you're awake, my sweet." He chuckled, "Did you really think you could trick me, darling? You're such a naughty girl, aren't you? Tsk tsk. Such a bad girl."

You tried to fool the god of mischief, what an idiot you were. You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He sat down next to you and began caressing your body. He ran his hand up and down your legs.

You slapped his hand away, you hated him. How dare he touch you like that! Loki grabbed your wrist, "Don't try to stop me, little one." He threatened, his grip was tight. It hurt. "No, stop." You whimpered. You tried to struggle free, but he was too strong.

"Oh no, no, no, you're not going anywhere." He said as he pinned you down on the bed. "Are you ready to behave now, my sweet?"

You refused to respond, instead, you glared at him.

Loki shook his head and chuckled. "You are so beautiful, my sweet.”

You were getting tired of him calling you sweet and darling. "Shut up, Loki. Don’t fucking call me that, you bastard!"

He gave you a stern look. "Behave."

"Or what?" You challenged.

Loki leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm going to have to punish you."

You glared up at him. "What, like you haven't already done that?"

Loki smirked, "Don't be a smartass, darling. I can make this a lot worse."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Loki gripped your hair tightly and tugged your head back. "Are you sure you want to challenge me?"

You looked up at him defiantly. "Do your worst." You then saw him grinned, you realized you had made a big mistake.

"As you wish, little one." Loki said with a wicked grin. He got off the bed and started taking his clothes off. You knew what he was going to do, and it scared you.

He took off his shirt and threw it aside. You were confused at first, until Loki lifted his other hand and started waving it.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you don't try to resist."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, I don't want you getting away." Loki smirked. He then started moving his hand up and down your body.

You squirmed and tried to push his hand away, but they felt frozen. "Let me go, you sick bastard!"

Loki gave you a wicked grin. "No, I don't think I will"

Loki forced his lips against yours, you tried to resist, but it was useless. You couldn't move. You tried to turn your head, but it was no use.

Loki forced his tongue into your mouth. He explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you. You could taste his breath. It was sweet, with a hint of mint. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.

"Stop!" You yelled, "Please stop, Loki! I don't want to do this!

Loki ignored you. He kept kissing you, forcing his tongue down your throat. "I know you like it, darling."

You shook your head. Loki broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

"Fuck you." You spat.

“Why are you so impatient, my little pet?” Loki laughed. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it in a moment. Right now, I'm more concerned with teaching you a lesson."

You glared at him, you were so pissed off. He laughed again, “Such a pretty face, too.” He traced his finger along your jawline.

Then you watched Loki removed his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. He stroked himself slowly. You felt your body heat up. You couldn't believe it. He was making you hot.

"See something you like?" He grinned.

You blushed. You looked away. It had been awhile since you had sex with him or anyone else. You missed being fucked by him. You needed to feel his cock deep inside of you. But you knew this was wrong, you looked away from him.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You turned and looked at him. You watched as he continued to stroke his cock. "You betrayed me, Y/N." He climbed over you and straddled your hips, trapping your wrists with his hands, and pinned them above your head. "You hurt me. You have to be punished."

“You are hurting me too.”

“I don’t think so, pet. Deep down, you want this. You want me to force myself to you, you don’t think I know? I know your deepest darkest desire. The desire you try to deny. The desire for me to make you mine again. You want to be my pet again, don't you?"

He was right. You were afraid to admit it but you missed Loki. But you didn't want to admit it. You shook your head, “No! I don’t have such thing.” You knew it was a lie, deep down you wanted him to use you and force himself on you, forced you into submission, make you his again, like he had done many times before.

"Keep lying to yourself, pet. I know you more than you know yourself. Now, open your mouth and let me fuck it.” He smirked and moved closer to you. His cock was inches away from your face. You moved your head away, but he grabbed your hair and pulled it. You winced in pain.

"Open up. Open wide and say ahh."

You refused to obey. "Don't be stubborn." You clenched your teeth together. "If you don't open your mouth, I'll fuck your throat. I'll make you gag and choke."

"You're sick."

"Maybe, but so are you, darling."

He grabbed your face, forced your mouth open. You kept them close together, "I'll fucking bite your dick off, I swear."

He was having none of it, he used his magic to make you couldn't move your jaw. Then he shoved his cock inside your mouth and forced his way in. He started to pump his hips and his cock went deep down your throat, hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, enjoying the feeling.

He pushed his cock deep into your throat, making you gag. You could feel his hard length against your tongue. His precum leaked onto your taste buds, sending shivers down your spine. He kept thrusting in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper. Your eyes watered.

You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but he was relentless. His hands gripped your hair tightly, his hips moved faster and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

You felt your body relax, your heart rate quickened, and your clit throbbed. You were getting turned on by this. You whimpered and felt a surge of excitement flow through your body. You couldn't believe it. You were excited at the thought of him taking you, forcing you, fucking you.

You were sick.

"This is all your fault." He said as he looked at you, enjoying the way your throat was stretched around him. "Such a good pet. Take it all, pet."

He grabbed your hair and forced his cock deeper into your mouth. You were struggling to breathe. He moaned louder as he felt his cock going deeper into your throat. He held his cock in your throat, watching you struggle to breathe. "Such a pretty face. I wonder how many people you've sucked off.”

You whimpered, feeling your body reacting to his words.

"Did you plan to suck that guy you were flirting with?" He thrusted his hips. You gagged and tears filled your eyes. "He could never make you feel this good." He moaned. His thrust became harder and deeper. You choked and gagged on his cock.

You cried, your body trembled. You were about to pass out, when he suddenly pulled his cock out and allowed you to breathe. You gasped, sucking in as much air as possible. You couldn't move, you were frozen. He then proceed to grab his cock and stroke it.

"Such a pretty sight, you are. And the view of your lips wrapped around my cock." He said, grinning. "Don't worry, my pet. I'm almost there. You're doing a great job. You're going to be rewarded for being so good for me. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need."

He grabbed your hair and slammed his cock deep again into your throat. Then his hand reached to your pussy. He put his finger in your pussy, you moaned as he touched your pussy. He smirked. "That's a good girl, you are learning. Now, suck my cock."

You started sucking his cock. He started thrusting his cock deeper and harder into your throat. He moaned as you sucked his cock. He loved feeling your mouth on his cock.

"Mmmphh… stwop.” You tried to beg, but his cock was down your throat.

"Do not talk with your mouth full, darling. That is not polite."

You felt him tighten around your neck. His grip was firm.

"I am going to cum. Do not spit. Swallow every drop, and maybe I will reward you. But only if you're a good girl. Do you understand?"

"Mmmph." You tried to protest, but the god didn't listen. You couldn't do anything except suck his cock. Loki kept fucking your mouth until his seed spilled into your throat, you felt the warm liquid slide down your throat making you choke. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his seed. He pulled out and released your hands.

You coughed, and gasped for air. "Good girl. Very good girl." Loki patted your head.

You glared at him. You wanted him dead.

"Don't be like that, Y/N. You're supposed to be happy. This is what you wanted, remember? We're together again. Just like old times."

You looked away. "That was a long time ago."

Loki grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "But it's not too late. We can have it again. We can have everything. We just have to work together."

"Work together?" You scoffed, "How can we work together? You lied to me!”

“We can talk later, my love. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He stroked his cock, he was still hard even after he came earlier. He spread your legs apart and grabbed a hold of his cock, aiming it towards your wet pussy.

"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until you pass out. Until I cum deep inside of you and make you mine again. Then when you wake up, I'll fuck you again, and again, and again."

You felt him press his cock against your pussy, his head slid between your folds and penetrated you. "No, Loki, please, I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that." He stroked down his hard cock even after he just came, he was hard again. He then forced himself inside of you. You screamed in agony. He was too big.

"Oh, stop your whining." Loki chuckled. "You're such a baby. It doesn't hurt that much."

His cock was big that it stretched your open, he didn’t give you time to adjust. You screamed, "You fucking asshole!"

"Watch your mouth, darling. I'm not a fan of that language." Loki slapped your pussy, it was red and swollen from his previous assault. He kept thrusting his hips, his cock pounded you over and over. Your whole body ached from him.

He was holding your waist down with one hand and pumping his hips in and out of your pussy. He continued to thrust in and out of you. He took his time and made sure he hit the spot that would make you scream and beg for more. He knew what you wanted, he knew your body and what made you tick.

You were biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan for him.

"Why don't you let me hear those beautiful moans, pet?" Loki purred, leaning his face in close to yours. "Don't hold back, you know you want to enjoy this."

"No..."

Loki grinned and snapped his hips hard against yours. "I know what you like, and I know you like this. It's why I keep doing this." He smiled wickedly. Loki picked up the pace. His cock hit the spot inside of you. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, just let it all out."

You bit your lip and gripped his sheets, trying not to make a sound. "Darling, you're so stubborn, you're going to hurt yourself." Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it, causing you to moan and look up at him.

"You're fucking psycho!"

Loki began pounding into you even harder. His hand gripped your throat, and you felt yourself grow weaker. fast. "Loki, please..." Your vision began to fade, and you started gasping for air. “Stop…” Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you.

He squeezed them together and pounding his cock into you. You screamed and he slapped your pussy again. He fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were sobbing, begging him to stop. Tears ran down your face but he didn't slow down. He kept fucking you harder than before. Your breasts were bouncing wildly as he pounded into you.

You felt him hit a spot inside of you that caused a surge of pleasure to flow through your body. "That's it, darling." Loki moaned, slamming his hips harder against yours. "Come on, you know you want to."

You felt your orgasm building. You tried to fight the urge, but you couldn't help yourself. He kept pounding into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot.

"Don’t fight it. You can't resist, so just give in." Loki said thrusting harder and harder, until you were both a moaning, writhing mess. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched your back. You moaned loudly as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't fight it anymore, you screamed in pleasure, feeling yourself reaching your peak.

"Fuck, yes! Come for me! Milk my cock, pet"

You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you. Loki didn't stop, he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your body shook uncontrollably. You cried out again, screaming.

"Please, stop." You pleaded, panting.

Loki ignored you, he fucked you harder and harder, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. "I'm going to fill you with my seed. You'll be leaking it out for days. Every time you sit down or move, you'll feel it dripping down your thighs. You'll be mine."

"Please, Loki! No! Pull out!" You begged, trying to push him off of you. But he was too strong. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried.

"I'm not going to pull out." Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you. "After you betrayed me, this is the least you deserve. I'm going to make you pregnant. You'll have a little monster running around. You won’t ever leave me again.”

"No! Loki, stop!" You sobbed, crying out. "I'll do anything! Please don't cum in me."

"It's too late, pet." Loki ignored your pleas, he continued thrusting hard. He rubbed your clit, "Cum with me, my sweet." He was rubbing it harder, making it hard for you to keep up with his thrusts.

You shook your head. Loki growled. "Now."

You gasped, "No! No!" You cried out, trying to pull away. You couldn't fight it anymore. You moaned loudly. Your whole body spasmed with your orgasm, your walls clenching tightly around him.

Loki groaned. You felt him got bigger inside you. He let out a long moan. "Take my cum." He spilled his hot seed inside you. It filled you, filling you up, some of it spilling out. You could feel it filling your womb, stretching your belly. It was so warm.

He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing more of his cum into you. "No! Please stop!"

Loki laughed, his cock was still hard and pushed his cock back into your pussy. "Oh, but we're not done yet. I'm not finished with you yet." He pushed himself deeper inside you. He was still coming. "This is just the beginning."

"You're fucking insane."

"Yes, I know." Loki was still pumping his cock in and out of you. "I'm going to train your body. You're going to crave me, my cock, and my cum. And every time you see me, you're going to want me to fuck you. You'll need me."

"No!" You cried.

"Yes, yes, you will. Because I'm the only one who can satisfy you." He was thrusting harder, deeper, his pace increasing.

You were afraid he might never stop. And he never did.

It had felt like hours. You lost count on how many times you had orgasmed. It was too much. The room was spinning, the pain and pleasure becoming too much. You were so sensitive, every touch sending you over the edge.

“Loki, please stop. I’m begging you.” You were exhausted, spent, and sore. You couldn’t take it anymore. But you couldn’t stop him, he was too strong and too weak. He kept fucking you over and over again until you were almost at the point of passing out. But he made sure you never did by using his magic to keep you awake.

"Look at your beautiful, stretched pussy. My seed is already filling you."

You whimpered, you could feel it. You could feel the weight of his cum inside you. He never pull out. He kept coming, and his cock kept spurting more and more. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have so much cum. He was fucking you again and again.

"You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to beg for me. You'll learn to come on command. You'll learn to obey me. You'll learn to pleasure me. You'll learn to worship me. Because that is how we are, my sweet."

It seemed like an eternity, but finally, he was done. He collapsed onto you, panting heavily. His cock remained buried inside your pussy, and you felt him softening inside you. Your pussy ached from the rough pounding he had given you.

"You are mine, my sweet. Now and forever." He said, giving you a possessive look.

You felt his cum slowly trickle out of you. Your belly was still swollen from the amount he had pumped into you. You had never felt so full. It was like you were a water balloon, and he had been filling you with water.

Loki kissed you deeply. You could barely fight him back, you were too weak. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair. "Now get some sleep, I'll be back to check on you later." Loki got up from the bed and walked away.

The door shut. You laid there, stunned and exhausted. You were still trying to process what had happened, but there was one thing you knew for sure. You were trapped. You were his prisoner.

He was not going to let you go. Ever.

"I hate you, Loki." You whispered.

And you knew he heard it.

E/N : I intentionally made her emotion sway back and forth, torn between desiring him yet hating his actions. They're both twisted in their own ways, perhaps that's why they complement each other.

Honestly, I'm not entirely content with how the story is going; I might rewrite or delete it later, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, thank you for reading!

Let me know if you enjoy dark fics too! I adore them and plan to write more.

#loki laufesyon x reader #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki season 2 #dark fic #dark loki x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fic

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