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girlgenius1111 · 27 days

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contagious

sol gets... pretty sick. ingrid and mapi try to help. basically. a sol sickfic :) so warnings for sickfic things

It didn’t even really occur to you to tell anyone that you weren’t feeling well. You were sick, you had an exam today in one of your classes, and there was no thought in your mind that considered not going to school. Now it was probably your fault that you were sick, honestly.

This exam had been keeping you up for a week. It was the first big test you’d had since everything had happened. And you were determined, more than determined, to prove that you were better, that progress was being made. You hadn’t cared much for your grades since arriving in Spain, but you wanted that to change.

It was this motivation, to give your sister and Mapi something tangible to prove that you really were trying to be better, that had you studying hour after hour, night after night. It was just… you wanted to be worth all the trouble that Ingrid and Mapi had gone through with you recently. And you really believed that if you did better, were better, you’d be worth it.

So, your health was the least of your concerns. You’d run yourself down, you knew it, and there was nothing else to do but push through. It was around 7:30 am and you were going through your flashcards, once again. Your exam was in your chemistry class, and it was expected to be the hardest exam of the year. Your eyes were closing, and your head ached, but you pushed through, moving through unit card after card, whispering the answers to yourself.

A soft knock on your door interrupted you, and you glanced up, making an almost identical movement to Scout, who was sprawled out on the edge of your bed.

“Come in,” you replied, clearing your throat as your voice came out raspy.

Mapi pushed the door open, a wrinkle of concern etched into her forehead. “Are you okay? You sound weird.”

“Fine.” You said confidently, shaking off her concern. “What’s up?”

“The training schedule got changed, we have to leave in 5. Is that okay?”

You nodded, having already been dressed. “Yeah, I’ll go to the library and study more before class.”

“Make sure you eat something before we leave, Solstråle, it’s important.” Mapi reminded, and you nodded, agreeing easily, though you weren’t quite sure you could swallow anything at the moment; your throat felt like it was on fire.

You got all your stuff together, shedding the sweatshirt you had on as you were rather warm, before heading downstairs. You accepted the coffee Ingrid handed you gratefully, stopping in the kitchen to grab a granola bar and an apple that you were sure you wouldn’t be eating.

“You look pale.” Ingrid said, stepping closer to study your face. “Do you feel alright?”

“Yep, fine. Just nervous about the exam.” You lied, mustering a half smile that you were sure was not believable. Ingrid reached her hand out, about to feel your forehead for a fever, when Mapi’s voice echoed through the house.

“¡Vamos chicas!” She shouted. You slipped past your sister, heading for the door, and though she followed close behind you, Mapi asked her a question about training that successfully distracted her. Your slightly odd behavior slipped her mind as she contemplated the long training session ahead, even as you got out of the car at school, and both her and Mapi wished you luck on your exam.

You walked into the building, ignoring the dizziness that was making walking in a straight line difficult, determined to make it to your 3rd class of the day, determined to ace your exam.

--------

An all encompassing anxiety flooded Ingrid’s body when the assistant coaches pulled her aside, and handed her phone to her. It wasn’t the action that scared her, more the words that accompanied it. “Your phone was ringing like crazy in the locker room, Mapi’s too. It’s your sister’s school.”

Making sure to thank the coach, Ingrid took the phone and stepped away from the pitch, a shaky hand bringing the phone to her ear as she called your school back. Were you hurt? Sick? Had something horrible happened? Were you having a panic attack? Did you get into another fight? The possibilities of why the school could be calling her so insistently swirled around chaotically in her head, until someone finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Ingrid Engen, I am returning your call about-”

“Yes, Ms. Engen. Your sister was brought to the nurse's office a half hour ago. She seems to have the flu, as her fever and other symptoms indicate. We have to send her home, but she cannot leave without your permission. Can you give us the go ahead to let her leave?”

Ingrid breathed a sigh of relief. You were sick, and that was something she could deal with, though the nurse’s words confused her. “Let her leave? By herself? Can you put her on the phone?”

“Of course.”

There was some shuffling, before your raspy voice came over the line, sounding horribly guilty, and horribly unwell. “Hi.” You sniffed, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back on the wall behind you. You’d barely made it through your first class before everything had caught up to you, and you passed right out at your desk. From exhaustion, or just because of your fever, you weren’t sure. You were cooling off now, though, an ice pack on the back of your neck, a fan blowing cool air on you, and you had the mind to feel sorry for interrupting an important training session.

“Hey, solstråle. You’re sick? Ingrid said softly.

“Yeah. Can you just tell them I can uber home?” You asked, not quite sure what she wanted to talk to you about.

You were met with a scoff. “No, I cannot. I’ll leave right now and come pick you up. 10 minutes, max.” Ingrid promised, thinking the suggestion that you uber to be a bad joke.

“You have training, Ingrid,” you sighed. “I can get home by myself, it’s fine.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes, beginning to walk over to Jona to update him on the situation. “I am sure that you can get home by yourself, but you don’t need to. I’ll come get you.”

“I don’t- okay.” You replied finally, too exhausted and too ill to argue that hard.

“See you soon.” Ingrid said, before hanging up. She told Jona what was going on, and he told her that, of course, she could leave early. Your sister practically sprinted to the locker room, fully colliding with Mapi in the hall.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Mapi said, her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders the only thing keeping her girlfriend upright.

“Solstråle is sick, I have to go get her.” Ingrid rushed out, moving around Mapi and into the locker room to grab her stuff.

“I knew she didn’t seem right this morning. Let’s go.”

“María, you don’t have to-”

“I am coming. I am done in the gym for the day anyway. Vamos, vamos,” Mapi said, rolling her eyes. Ingrid managed to give her a small smile, before they were heading out of the building, and on the way to you.

-------

It seemed a little ridiculous that Ingrid was leaving training for this for you. It felt more ridiculous when both her and Mapi came rushing into the front office, making a beeline for you.

“Mi sol, how are you feeling?” Mapi asked kindly. You cracked your eyes open to see both your sister and her girlfriend crouched in front of the chair you were sitting in, looking like they had literally come right from training.

“I’m fine, you guys didn’t have to come.” You mumbled, although you unconsciously leaned into the hand Ingrid placed on your cheek, checking your temperature.

“She passed out at her desk during her first class, and she has a fever of 38.9°.” The nurse chimed in.

You resisted the urge to glare at the woman, who had actually been very kind, and very helpful.

“38.9°?”

“Passed out?”

Both Ingrid and Mapi spoke at the same time, frowning at you as you were clearly downplaying this for some reason.

“I’m fine,” you emphasized. The two women exchanged glances, before deciding to focus on getting you home, rather than calling out your obvious rejection of their help. “If you tell them I’m fine, I can go back to class and take my exam.”

You looked at them hopefully, shrinking a little when they both returned your gaze, looking astonished.

“Absolutely not.” Ingrid said. “We’re going home.”

“But-”

“No. Let’s go.” Mapi cut in, silencing your argument with her uncharacteristically harsh tone. If one thing really got to her, it was when you showed little regard for your own health or wellbeing.

You frowned at them, but went quiet anyway, knowing the argument was lost. You stood, stumbling a little as you were dizzy and a bit unsteady on your feet. Ingrid steadied you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, before guiding you out of the building.

“Jesus, Solstråle, you’re like a furnace.” She said, wincing at how hot your skin burned against hers.

“It’s warm in the school, I’m fine, really,” you began, weakly fighting Ingrid’s grip. They were making you go home, yes, but you’d rather have them run you over with their car than admit how awful you really felt.

“Stop it. You’re sick, we’re going home. No arguments.” Ingrid replied firmly, giving you a look that dared you to argue again with her. You didn’t.

------

Upon arriving home, you stubbornly refused to sit on the couch while Ingrid and Mapi questioned you about your symptoms. You told them that you couldn’t really breathe through your nose, your throat hurt, your head hurt, and you were exhausted. Of course, you played all this down, not that either of them believed you.

“Open your mouth.” Ingrid instructed. “Let me look at your tonsils, you might have strep.”

“What, are you a doctor and I didn’t know?” You asked grumpily, shrugging out from her grasp, and trying to head up to your room. The last thing you wanted was to get them sick.

“Stop, you aren’t going anywhere. Get on the couch.” Ingrid snapped, her impatience and worry getting the better of her. She softened, slightly, when she saw your expression waver, a bit of insecurity bleeding through the passive look you’d been sporting all day.

“No, I'll go to my room. I don’t want to get you sick.”

“We don’t care about that, we want to keep an eye on you. Especially because you seem pretty committed to pretending you’re fine.” Mapi said, handing you some pills and a glass of water. They both looked tired and worried, and you hated it. Both of them were still in their training kits. They’d left training, probably not gotten properly stretched afterwards, and rushed to you. And here they stood, not worried about any of that. Only focused on you.

You could handle the flu yourself, you’d done so up until this point. “I’m fine, I’ve got it.” You croaked, feeling weirdly emotional. You blinked hard, looking away from both of them.

Ingrid sighed. “Go put on comfy clothes, and then come back downstairs.” She said softly. Resigned, you nodded, wiping haphazardly at your eyes, before you headed for the stairs. You heard Ingrid and Mapi conversing in hushed tones behind you, but you were honestly too sick to listen very hard.

You shuffled back downstairs a few minutes later, clad in one of Mapi’s Barcelona sweatshirts, a pair of shorts Ingrid thought she’d lost, and wrapped in one of the blankets from your bed. You looked miserable, your nose all red from using tissues on it all day, face flushed with fever. Ingrid smiled at you sympathetically, nodding towards the living room.

“Go lay down.. I’ll be there in a second.” She instructed, happy when you did as she asked this time.

You flopped onto the couch, accepting Scout’s offered snuggles as you were shaking, cold beyond belief even though you were covered by a fuzzy blanket. Mapi came in a minute later, freshly showered, and handed you the remotes to the TV.

Mapi never let you pick what to watch, always insisting that you and Ingrid needed to watch Spanish shows with her to work on your mastery of the language. Really, you both knew her Norwegian was far worse than your Spanish, and she couldn’t keep up with the rapid dialogue in the shows you and Ingrid watched. Wordlessly, you put on a rerun of an old sitcom you’d grown up watching, curling up under the blanket, and next to Scout, until only your eyes were visible.

Mapi snorted at the sight, settling in the opposite corner of the couch. “Comfy?” She asked.

You gave her a thumbs up.

“Need anything?”

You shook your head.

“Is there a reason you aren’t speaking or is it just for fun?” Mapi asked casually.

You huffed, sitting up a bit. “Throat hurts.”

The Spaniard looked at you with concern. “Oh, nena.” She said sympathetically. You squirmed uncomfortably at her sympathy, looking away. Your sister walked in, then, her hands full of about 8 different things, which she dumped on the coffee table, taking a seat right next to you on the couch.

“Okay. Temperature first. Sit up.” She instructed.

Grumbling slightly, you did so, in the process dislodging Scout, who sighed dramatically and snuggled closer to your legs. Ingrid ran the thermometer over your forehead, frowning at the little screen when it beeped. She turned her phone flashlight on, instructing you to open your mouth. She ignored your eye roll, looking critically at your tonsils.

“They look swollen.” She said to herself. “We should take you to the doctor.”

Both Ingrid and Mapi watched in alarm as you sat completely upright, the color draining from your face. “No doctor.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Honey,” Ingrid began, but you cut her off.

“No doctor, Ingrid, please.” You looked near tears, and it was such a departure from your composed nature just seconds before, that Ingrid found herself nodding.

“Okay, no doctor today.” You noticed the added today but decided not to comment, relaxing back into the couch cushions. Your sister settled down next to you, offering you a bag of cough drops, which you took, giving her a small thanks.

You must have fallen asleep only minutes later, because the next thing you knew, a soft touch on your forehead and the smell of something delicious cooking wafting into the room were waking you up.

“Wake up, nena. You need to eat.”

You blinked open your eyes to find Mapi hovering over you, her hand softly pushing some hair off your forehead. You struggled to sit up, allowing the Spaniard to help you, before you spoke.

“Lunch?” You asked not quite awake enough for full sentences, but very aware that when you’d fallen asleep, it was just before 11am, but you felt like you’d been asleep for hours.

Mapi shook her head. “No, it’s 3, but we let you sleep. Ingrid finished the soup, though, and it’s time for more medicine.”

Soup. Soup sounded good. You nodded slowly, chugging the water bottle that Mapi handed you. Your head felt all cloudy, your throat agonizingly painful, and you were unable to breathe through your nose. You could only lay limp on the couch, teeth chattering.

“How do you feel?” She wondered.

You shrugged in response, frowning. “Tired.”

Mapi cracked a smile. “You can go back to sleep after you eat.”

Ingrid entered the room then, carrying a steaming bowl in her hands, a large sports drink tucked under her arm. She looked undeniably a bit frazzled, and you wondered if it was from making soup from scratch, or from worrying about you. It was just a cold, honestly. Everyone was being dramatic.

Ingrid handed you the bowl of soup, and you noticed that she gave you a little spoon. You hated using big spoons, even for the foods you were supposed to use them for, but you didn’t really recall telling your sister that. She must have just… noticed. It was a nice gesture, and it shouldn’t have made you want to cry as much as it did.

“Thank you, Ingrid,” you said, voice barely there, but the sentiment was clear all the same. Ingrid smiled down at you, gently pinching your cheek.

“Of course. Anything for you.” Ingrid murmured, sitting down on the couch next to her girlfriend.

You ate a spoonful of the soup, blinking in amazement. You knew Ingrid was a good cook, but this was one of the best things you’d ever eaten, even with your taste slightly dulled from your illness.

“Good?” Ingrid asked.

“So good. What is this, and why haven’t you made it before now?”

Ingrid furrowed her eyebrows at you. “What? It’s the chicken soup with dumplings, don’t you recognize it?”

You returned her look of confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d remember eating this.”

“You’ve had this before.” Ingrid said incredulously. “Back in Norway.”

Your expression changed, growing guarded and slightly angry. “No, I haven’t.” You said back, a bit sharply. You saw where this was going, and it was not the turn you wanted the conversation to take today.

“Mom used to make this for us when we would get sick!” Ingrid continued, freezing after the words left her mouth, realization dawning across her face, as well as guilt.

“Not for me.” You replied in a monotone, sipping slowly at the soup, trying not to seem too eager. You were annoyed with Ingrid now, angry with your mother, as you always were, and you didn’t want to seem too excited about the soup. Even if it felt like it was bringing you back from the dead, spoonful by spoonful.

“Oh.” Ingrid said, ignoring the look sent her way by her girlfriend. “Well, I’ll make it for you whenever you want. Do you need anything else?”

You shook your head, keeping your gaze fixed on the ceramic bowl in front of you. At that, Ingrid left the room, mumbling something about putting the leftovers away. Once she was gone, Mapi turned back towards you, and you knew before she spoke that her voice would be that soft one she used, that always made you feel like crying.

“She didn’t know, mi sol.” Mapi murmured, watching your expression carefully. Her concern was for you but also for her girlfriend, who took every misstep with you like the world’s biggest failure.

“I know.” You said.

“She thinks you’re upset with her, but you aren’t, are you?”

“No. It's not her fault.”

“Maybe tell her that next time? Ingrid is really sensitive, nena. And you have every right to react and feel how you need to, but try to be a bit easier on your sister. She’s trying really hard.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. You knew she was trying hard. Why did you have to make it so difficult for her? You didn’t say anything else, sitting completely silently as you finished your soup. Once you were done, you stood up from the couch, ignoring the way the room swirled around you, and the way your stomach turned at the movement.

“I’m going to lay in my bed.” You said quietly, avoiding eye contact with Mapi.

You thought Mapi was going to argue, make you stay downstairs, but she just nodded hesitantly, her gaze searching. “Okay. Shout or text if you need anything.”

You agreed, before you crept upstairs, avoiding the kitchen and your sister. She didn’t need to deal with you anymore than she already had today. No one did.

--------

Your goal of being as little trouble as possible after upsetting your sister turned out to be a lot harder to accomplish than you’d expected. Especially when the nausea caught up to you, and you found yourself stumbling towards the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. You made it to the toilet, hoping that the sound your knees made when they dropped to the ground wasn’t as loud as it sounded to you. You were sick a few times, pausing briefly to catch your breath when you heard the door open behind you.

“Honey,” Ingrid sighed, moving closer to you, intending to take your hair from your hands and tie it back. You recoiled, though, sending her a harsh glare. It was like a switch had been flipped. You didn’t need this, this comfort. You’d gone your whole life without it, and you definitely didn’t need it now. You didn’t need it, didn’t want it, didn’t deserve it.

“Get out,” you managed, not too distracted by how sick you felt to miss the hurt look on Ingrid’s face.

“Solstråle,”

“Out, Ingrid,” you snapped, before you were overcome with nausea again. You leaned back over the toilet, this time too preoccupied to push Ingrid away when she kneeled next to you. Gently, she took your hair out of your hand, tying it back for you. Her hand found your back, then, rubbing soft circles over your tshirt.

“You’re okay, kjære, I’ve got you,” she murmured. She stayed with you until you were done, allowing you to collapse back into her, completely drained of energy.

“Better?” She asked quietly. You nodded slowly in response, limp against your sister.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, you’re sick.” Ingrid told you firmly. The door creaked open once more, and Mapi appeared, a wet washcloth in her hand. She gave it to your sister, who in turn put it on your forehead. You sighed in relief at the chill, but still, you hadn’t gotten your point across, and you couldn’t relax fully. Mapi stepped back out of the bathroom, giving you both some space.

“Sorry I snapped.”

You felt Ingrid sigh. “You don’t need to be sorry for that either. This is an adjustment for you, still, and you don’t feel well. I understand that you’re overwhelmed. It’s okay.”

There she was again, being so understanding and kind, when you’d been nothing but hostile and difficult to her. “It’s not okay. You’re being too nice.”

Your sister pulled you closer, resting her chin on the top of your head. “You deserve nice. You deserve to have people worry about you, and you deserve to have people that love you and want you to be okay.”

You weren’t really sure what to say to that.

A teardrop hit your hand where it was resting in your lap, and you realized you were crying.

You weren’t really sure what to say about that, either.

-------

Falling asleep after that probably would have been hard, if not for how tired you were. And if it weren’t for how your sister sat on your bed next to you, holding an ice pack to the back of your neck, running her nails up and down your back. It was like a tranquilizer, and you were out before you knew it.

Ingrid kept outdoing herself on the worried scale. Just when she thought she’d reach the peak of how much a person could worry about another person, something would happen with you, and it would get even worse. You looked younger as you slept next to her, your face devoid of the usual defensive mask you kept up. It made her sad, that you couldn’t just be a kid. You constantly felt like you had to protect yourself. She couldn’t blame you, not really. The issues you had weren’t issues that could just be fixed by a few kind words and promises. It was a process, one that wasn’t linear. This situation was clearly a step backwards; you hadn’t been this hostile with her since before. She hated it, hated seeing you sad or in pain. But right now, you were both.

Mapi had to practically drag her to bed. Ingrid didn’t want to leave you, but Mapi insisted that she would be no help to you if she didn’t sleep, and that they would leave both doors open, so they’d know if you needed them, though they hoped you wouldn’t.

It was only a few hours later, almost 2am, when loud coughing woke Mapi. It startled her from a light sleep, and she sat upright in the bed, shaking Ingrid awake next to her.

In your room, you felt like you were potentially suffocating, gasping for breath in between rounds of coughs. It barely registered when Ingrid and Mapi ran into your room, frantically turning on the lights. You could only look at them, completely panicked, as you fought to get enough air in.

It only took a second of listening to you for Ingrid to understand what was happening. “Asthma, she’s having an asthma attack. It must be worse because she’s sick.”

You hadn’t known Ingrid knew you had asthma. You’d only found out about it after she’d moved out, and you were sure your parents had forgotten as soon as they’d given you the inhaler the doctor had prescribed. You hadn’t had an asthma attack in a while, definitely not since you’d been in Spain. Ingrid was right, the illness must have triggered it. The issue was, though, that you were suddenly very unsure as to the location of your puffer.

Mapi was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, more panicked than you’d ever seen her. “What does she need? Water? Medicine? Tell me, I’ll get it,”

Ingrid shook her head, moving closer to grab your hand in hers, and press it to her chest. “Relax, you’re okay, everything is going to be fine. Where is your puffer?”

You wheezed in a big breath, trying to follow Ingrid’s chest rising and falling under your hand. “Don’t-Don’t know.” You gasped out. Tears were springing to your eyes, from panic or the violent coughing, you weren’t sure, and you reached out to grip onto Ingrid’s free hand, trying to convey your distress.

“It’s okay, I’ve got one. Mapi, the medicine cabinet. Top shelf, in a little box.” Ingrid instructed over her shoulder. The Spaniard took off out of the room, Scout barking at her from where he was pacing on the floor. You didn’t really process your words, another round of coughing wracking your chest.

“Ingrid, help,” you choked out.

Her expression was one of calmness and confidence, and it was the only thing keeping you from being convinced that you were about to pass out.

“Mapi’s getting it, solstråle, you’re okay.” She soothed, hearing her girlfriend’s footsteps thundering back down the hall. Mapi entered the room, almost falling in her haste to get to Ingrid. Once your sister had the box in hand, she whipped out the inhaler, batting your hands away when you tried to grab it. Instead, she held it to your mouth, instructing you to breathe in while she dispensed the medication. You took a few big inhales, relief filling your body as the drugs worked, and your lungs began to expand correctly again.

Your body untensed, and you collapsed back into the bed, chest still heaving slightly. Ingrid didn’t let go of your hand.

Mapi sagged onto the bed, the stress of the situation clearly getting to her.

“Okay, mi sol?”

“Good.” You told her, managing a thumbs up and a half smile. Ingrid brought her hand to your forehead, then, frowning.

“You need more cold medicine.” She decided, moving to rise from the bed. You clung to her, though, gripping her shirt in your hand. She looked down at it, then up at you, before slowly sitting back on the bed. “María?”

“On it.” Mapi said, rushing back out of the room, though significantly less frantically than she had before.

“Ingrid?”

“Hmm?” She replied, squeezing your hand once.

“How do you have one of my inhalers? I didn’t even know you knew I had asthma.”

Ingrid blinked at you. “I got one when you moved here, just in case. I knew because I talked to your doctor back home before you came, and he sent in the prescription so I could get an extra.”

“You… you talked to my doctor back home? Before I moved here?”

“Of course. I’d been gone awhile, and mom and dad told me nothing. I needed to know your medical history.” Ingrid said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. She was looking at you almost earnestly, like every word out of her mouth was true, and still a testament to how much she cared for you. How much she always had cared for you.

You were, once again, at a loss for words. Ingrid didn't seem like she wanted to push you into talking, though. She just helped you sit up as Mapi entered the room again, handing you your water and the pills she’d brought.

They both watched on, anxiously, as you took the pills. You studied them as you did so. They both looked exhausted and stressed, but for once, it didn’t make you feel bad.

All this time, they’d been telling you they cared, and you hadn’t been quite sure you believed it. Especially when you pushed away their attempts to show you that they cared. If you let them show you, though, it was something that could never be in doubt. They cared, and they loved you, and they clearly thought you were worth all of the trouble. Even when you were sick and grumpy and stubborn and hostile. They weren’t ever deterred.

You didn’t like to think of yourself as someone worth fighting for, someone worth the difficulty. And though it was still relatively incomprehensible that Ingrid and Mapi felt very much the opposite, it was something you were beginning to accept as fact.

And when your eyes began to close again, of their own accord, [or likely due to the nighttime cold medicine Mapi had brought you], you didn’t fight it. You knew they’d be there when you woke up, if you needed them. And even if you didn’t.

-------

More about Sol’s doctor-phobia coming soon 🙃🙃

hope you enjoyed and everything makes sense because it really might be a complete jumble of fever induced words.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #🍓☀️

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roach-works · 7 months

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you need to stop equating legality with morality

i know im shouting into the void here but i'm really stressed out over how many gen-z kids seem to think that all bad things are illegal and therefore all good things are legal. this is a child's system of ethics and furthermore it's one that fascist bigots REALLY REALLY WANT YOU TO KEEP

here are some things that are legal in the united states of america:

-you can marry a child in 46 states. "The organization Unchained At Last found nearly 300,000 children under the age of 18 were legally married between 2000 and 2018."

-it's not murder to shoot someone to death in 28 states under Stand Your Ground Laws.

-officers of the law can take and keep your personal property "in the course of conducting an investigation." you have to go to court to get it back. since the year 2000, cops have taken and kept personal property totaling a profit of at least 68.8 billion... that we have records for. Policing for Profit: The Abuse of Civil Asset Forfeiture

here are things that are illegal in an increasing number of states:

-birth control hrt, and abortion

-dildos

-telling kids anything about homosexuality or transexuality

-helping a minor access birth control or an abortion without their parent's consent

-dressing in drag

-protesting against corporate malfeasance

-protesting against police brutality

-suing a company for knowingly endangering your health through exposure to infectious diseases, chemical toxins, or oil pollution

-inhibiting private logging, fracking, and mining operations, even those conducted on public lands, even those conducted without the requisite permits, even those conducted against treaty regulations

IN CONCLUSION:

a country's legal system is not a nice little collection of good rules for proper people. it is a system of top-down control that determines, in broad and violent strokes, which people get what they want, and which people don't.

the sooner you realize that it is a moral imperative to break unjust laws, the sooner you can stop saying shit like 'dni if you support illegal/immoral behavior' and sounding like a fucking chump.

#politics #not proofread

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innonurse · 2 years

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#health tech #analytics #data science #sdoh #social determinants of health #predictive analytics #consumer behavior #data analytics #unite us #Pivotal Analytics

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netherfeildren · 4 months

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Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 1. Genus: Tragedy

Series Masterlist ; Part 2.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Existence is a needful thing. Choice is fickle, nature inescapable. Run to the end of the world, Joel, all those things will still find you.

She'll still come for you.

-OR-

the A/B/O outbreak AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Light Angst; Slow Burn; Shocking Considering the Implications of Me and This Trope but Alas; Biologically Assigned Soulmates; Power Dynamics; Topping From the Bottom; Government Controlled Reproduction; Segregation of the Designations; Institutionalized Sexism; Vaguely Handmaidien Undertones; Incredibly Soft Despite the Tags; Be Not Afraid, Dear Reader!; Yearning; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Competence Kink; Alpha Joel; Omega MC; Very Soft Joel; Older and Jaded Alpha; Young and Needy Omega; Age Gap; Size Difference; Size Kink

A/N: I've found there is an absolutely shocking lack of A/B/O in this fandom, and this is my contribution to begin rectifying that. I swear that despite the way the tags read, this is entirely and sickeningly sweet soft, comfort, caretaking fic.

Share thoughts, please. It's sort of a different one.

Word Count: 6.3K

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Genus : Tragedy

To a one Mr. Joel Miller,

500 Sheahan Road

Clallam Bay, WA 98326

United States

We are writing to inform you that as of January 8th, 2015 there remain two weeks until your designated omega’s twenty second birthday, and a year since she has come of age. We have made several attempts to contact you with no response. As mandated by the federal government, you must collect her by January 22nd, 2015 or she will be distributed to another individual of the designation alpha who would be willing to accommodate her.

The omega’s evaluations are all up to date, and she has displayed pristine results in both health and behavioral tests. It is estimated that her first heat will occur soon, and we strongly encourage you to collect before the fever starts and our facility is forced to place her with another willing alpha that may see the process through. As she is part of the Federal Alpha/Omega Pairing Program, and is biologically paired to an alpha already, that being you, if not collected she would be placed in the bidding pool and distributed to the highest offer.

Again, we strongly encourage you to contact our facility with a response on your decision as soon as possible so that we may prepare the omega. We would like to remind you that these creatures are delicate, and unexpected changes to their habitats and surroundings cause high levels of distress. It is of the utmost importance that we proceed in accordance with the omega’s nature.

Enclosed is a brief note from your omega that she has requested to attach:

Dear sir,

I hope that you are well. I have been told that you have not decided if you will come for me, but I ask that you please do. I have been waiting, but they have told me I cannot wait anymore, and I do not know what will happen to me if you don’t come. I promise that I’ll be good if you do.

And at the bottom, in a pristine and swirly pen, and kindly, her signature, there for him to see. The name of the woman, or girl, who seems to have taken all of Joel’s choices from him. He follows the letters with the nail of his thumb, scratching at the ink as if he could make it disappear, make the reality of this poor thing out there in the world waiting for him, disappear.

At the outbreak of the designations, twelve years ago, there had been mass hysteria, mass chaos, a terrible uncertainty of how the world could continue on, segregated into biological designations as it had suddenly become. Thought to be a product of the dwindling population rates, some whispered a government experiment gone awry, a freak genetic mutation had begun to appear within the biological markers of certain people.

Designations: Alpha, Beta, Omega.

It was not that society had unfolded, lost sight of itself, it was more so that from one day to the next, a new and unknown sort of hierarchy had been established, those that were, those that were not. Those that could live their lives as they’d always done, unruled by their biological urges, and those now marked as something new and different and set by a different sort of mandates.

Joel had been one of these people.

The designations had become controlled, weaponized, systemized, almost immediately. Almost. Before the government had mobilized and taken stock and hold of the situation, there had been a momentary lapse of order. Chaos wearing the names and faces of the people he’d once known, people that should have been safe or protected, protective. The true nature of the dynamics were quickly revealed. Obvious: an unmated alpha in need of an omega was a volatile thing, quick to aggression, hungry for violence. Less so: an omega, once thought self sufficient, independent, autonomous, was found to be at times fragile, vulnerable, full of necessity. Both connected by that string of desperation that could only be soothed in a pairing of the two. The desperate drama of being no longer only yourself.

It should have been an obvious thing, the mutation, a byproduct of the dwindling population levels, reproduction rates, was in service of something that would correct this misdirection of nature. Alphas and omegas were, are, idealized pairings for one another in terms of reproduction, in terms of biological pairings. It should have been obvious that this would be wielded as a means of control. It should have been obvious that this was an untenable situation that would cast people into roles that left no choice for autonomy, for freedom.

It should have been obvious to Joel, who almost immediately, and even though he had been well into adulthood, a father to a young daughter, presented as an alpha, growing pains once again this late into his life. It should have been obvious that this was a situation that should have necessitated greater care, vigilance, protection. After all, this was the role of an alpha. He should have listened to this new nature of his that was suddenly, demandingly, presenting itself, acted quicker, stronger, with more wisdom. But he’d failed, he’d continued to fail for years to come after that terrible night when the world had turned back to its base nature in a hedonistic attempt for the preservation of humanity.

Alphas were immediately feared, ostracized, and above all else, obvious. A designation was not a thing a person could hide, especially not an alpha, the truth of their nature. Many were gunned down in the streets at the start, imprisoned, experimented on and sold, debased and tortured. They’d been caught, him and Sarah, separated from Tommy trying to escape the madness. She had, in her innocence and without designation, still only herself, still only his little girl, been caught in the crossfire of a world's desire to tame or trap something it could not understand.

Joel had, in many and the worst of ways, been caught in the crossfire too.

With time, years and the sort of suffering that can only be forced upon anything that is different or out of the norm, a system had been created. Government mandated programs, laws, registries that kept track of the designations. A hierarchy in which those that were essentially and biologically considered stronger than what a normal human should be, were ostracized, exiled, denigrated, muzzled, and those that would be considered weakest, left without any voice at all, without freedom either.

The Federal Alpha/Omega Pairing Program had been established for the continued preservation and furthering of reproductive rates. A registry was created in which all those with the designation either alpha or omega had to present themselves on, biological markers determined, all choices stripped. The program served as a match making machine, when two biological markers presented themselves as compatible, as mates of one another, an omega was assigned to an alpha for keeping. To do with as they’d see fit.

He had gotten word of her only last year. Twelve years of solitude, of nothing, of running from a girl with green eyes he’d not been able to protect and the reality of himself he detested, the what and why of who he was. He’d left Austin, wandered and hidden and groveled in the dirt like a worm until he’d finally found a quiet place to settle. A place alone, undisturbed. And for so long, he’d not been happy, surely, but he had been. Joel had been.

He looks down at the letter in his hand, dragging his thumbnail over the swoop and slope of her signature once again. This was a person who, as mandated by law or biology or fucking whatever, had been deemed as his. His other half, mate, ball and chain. The terrible reminder of what he really was and could not escape, in the form and shape of his perfect opposite.

Last year, when he’d gotten word of her existence, that she’d reached the age of twenty one and was now ready and available for his retrieving, he’d balled up the letter and thrown it with such weightless force into the fireplace in his living room that the air filled wad of paper had fallen limp and nothingful just shy of the flames, rolling in the ashes and dust, coating the reality of this imposed, undesired fate in dark soot. He’d been so angry he’d gone out and howled at the moon like the beast the world would have themselves believe he truly was.

He did not want to be an alpha. He did not want an omega. He did not want to live off the coast of Clallam Bay alone in this house he’d built with his bare hands because he had no other use of them now, no other function or purpose or meaning. He did not want it to be now, he wanted it to be twelve years ago. He wanted to still be a father.

He did not want to be an alpha.

He did not want an omega.

He crumples the letter in his fist, looking out at the bay over the edge of the cliffs from where the cabin is perched. From his spot on the deck he can see as far out as the sea allows, sight stopping suddenly as if the edge of the world had dropped off a ledge. Sometimes he longed, so, so badly, to go find that edge, to drop off it as well. He had only tried once. Never again. The grizzle of scar tissue at his temple, a testament to yet another one of his failures.

The first summons had come two weeks before her twenty-first birthday, and he’d laughed, after the anger, he’d laughed. A girl-woman of only twenty one years, deemed of age, for the role the government or God had deemed her ready for, served up on a platter to him for his own ravaging. For the correction of what nature told was an anomaly that only their coming together could solve. It was sick, disgusting. He wanted no part of it. And so, despite the knowledge that this poor thing was out there, in some government facility, places they took omegas, many orphans, but also, oftentimes separating them from their families for so called safe keeping, just another word for kidnapping. Rearing and breeding and no choices, no choices for any of them ever.

He’d ignored it, turned a blind eye and a revolted heart away from it all, and shirked the supposed responsibilities he owed this omega who he knew nothing about, who knew nothing about him. But nature is, after all, a terrible and inescapable thing. And not even so much the nature of his designation, although that did, unfailingly, play a part in his demise, surely, but the nature of his character, of Joel’s heart, that was the true heavy player. He was not the sort of man who could turn away from someone who’d rely on him, who’d need him. A responsibility. That was, he convinced himself, all he should or could see her as. And for a year there’d been a sort of tugging of a string from behind his navel, an umbilical cord connecting him to his ignored fate. He hated it all. He wanted nothing to do with any of it. He wanted to rot in his aloneness and misery and bitterness, fester in the fear that lived around him from the world. It’s why he’d come here, it’s why he’d exiled himself. Balanced on the tightrope border between the Salish Sea and the Makah Reservation on this high and pristine cliffside cut from the crust of the earth; he was left entirely alone, at peace with only his own chaotic demons to torment him. He wanted it this way, he wanted this; please, please, he’d already given away so much, lost so much of himself. Should he also be forced into this too? To sacrifice the terrible peace of his solitude to save this poor creature that was being forced on him. He wanted to say no, that he didn’t give a fuck, that what would happen to her could, it was no business of his. But those words… another willing alpha, bidding pool, highest offer… they made him see, not even red, black, black and devastating anger or rage or something horrible and base, and what could only be a product of mother nature railing against him for ignoring what he truly was. Something that whispered terrible words of mine, mine, fucking mine. A hiss he did not recognize, did not want to admit he recognized.

He was old, weathered and beaten and past his prime. Unmated. At the end of his line and unmated and purposeless, and his bones were tired, but itching and clamoring within the confines of his skin that this was wrong, that he was wrong, and that he needed to right this immediately.

That she’s waiting, and dear sir, I do not know what will become of me if you do not come. I promise that I’ll be good if you do.

And so Joel goes to her because he knows she is waiting, because fate or purpose or nature is not a thing to be ignored forever.

“It’s her birthday today,” the caretaker says, voice ascetic and cold and direct. Not a voice, Joel thinks, for soft things; cadence that has his teeth on edge, hackles raised. “You’ve arrived just in time. She’s been asking for you, and we’d just set her name in the pool, ready to release for auction tomorrow.” That black rage muddies the corners of his vision, and he focuses on the cold shock of the blank white hallway they’re making their way down. Hospital-like, barren and hard, this place, facility, prison, they keep them in, the omegas in the program. He feels slightly sick, uninhibitedly angry as if his teeth would fall out of his skull, as if he could throw himself to the ground as a child throws a fit, spew his anger for the world to see how much he does not want this, how vehemently he’s opposed to it all.

“She may seem young and small, but she’s twenty two now. She’s ready, and she’ll take it as you wish. It’s what she was made for.”

Joel seriously considers, just for a moment, killing the cretinous little man beside him. Take it, he says as if he has any right to speak of you taking anything that Joel would give you, as if it’s any of his business, anything he could ever understand if the beta stench oozing off of him is any indication. He hums nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement. If he parts his teeth he’ll take out a chunk of flesh. He should behave, there are easily frightened things nearby.

White doors with a small circular window at the center line the hall on either side, endlessly down the length of the seemingly endless corridor. The caretaker, white scrubs, pristine like the rest of everything here, and Joel feels suddenly huge and bestial and brutish, marring and dirtying this place that is supposed to be of peace and quiet for the fragile things locked inside.

A terrible place that makes him desolately depressed. You’ve been here so long, and he had not come, and it’s all just one more tally of failure on his rap sheet.

When they finally stop before a singular door, the number fourteen emblazoned in large black, bold print just beneath the small viewing window, Joel suddenly feels– he can’t say for certain, he doesn’t know, or doesn't want to acknowledge the truth of the voices and sounds ringing in his ears, but he knows, recognizes it for the sound of the moment Sarah died all those years ago. His past and present suddenly clashing to meet here in this antiseptic white void, before the door to this fate that’s clamored in quiet waiting for exactly a year today. The sound of her voice, calling his name, saying it hurts, Tommy, his shouts ringing loud and then ebbing soft and as lifeless as she was while the reality of what they were living came to pass before Joel too, could realize. He’d left too, his brother, ran from the truth of Joel at the first easy opportunity. And she’s just there, her voice and her eyes and the feel of her is just there in his mind, on the tip of the tongue of his memory, and then the man opens the door and then there you are.

He feels worse now, hulking, deformed, malformed like he was born wrong. “I’ll give you a moment,” the man says low, that cold voice monotone and almost too quiet to bear now. Joel feels he needs something loud and shocking. He fears he won’t fit through the door. “It’s better if you meet for the first time without distractions. She knows you’re coming.”

He thinks he asks if you’re sleeping, he can’t be sure, but he feels the vibrations of his throat work, his jaw move as if it’d come unhinged, his tongue swollen in his mouth, gums fat and painful, full of bile and terrible memories, and he is a badly made thing in need of some goodness in this moment. And then a shift of the small lump beneath the blankets, the reality of the moment snaps into focus, he steps inside the white box cage you’re kept in. The door shuts behind him, and then it is only him, the thing he would not be, and you, the thing he would not want.

He doesn’t decide it until he finally peers into your eyes, that he can’t, will not, keep you.

Wide, luminous and wet, but not afraid, wholly curious, peering up at him from above the edge of a thick wool blanket. Something drab and gray and stiff looking that immediately sets him on edge, brings that anger back, just the simple sight of the blanket. The two of you stare at each other in silence, the weight of that thing that tells of what you are, sitting heavy between the two of you as he looks down at you from his great height, presence that should be intimidating and cowing, looming over your prone and small form on the bed. But despite his stance, something swelling within him causing him to puff up like an angry dog and want to bear his teeth at you, despite the curtain of tears in your eyes, there’s nothing of the stench of fear.

He shuts his eyes to the sight of you, huffing long and bullish through his nose, mistake, the scent of you, God, help me, and he listens to the rustle and shift of the blankets, opens his eyes to see a little nose peeking out from beneath the gray, drab thing to sniff primly at the air he’s now filling with his presence.

Soft and warm and woman, the smell of a cunt that belongs to him. That’s what it is at its basest. More complexly: vanilla, bergamot, juniper berries, sweat and fever and salt. Taking a plunge off the cliffside, bypassing the sharp teeth of rocks that would kill you, waiting for the dark ice shock of sea and finding nothing but molten life. This is what you smell like.

Worst of all, there is something in you that smells of him. His, yes, but not what he means, not his, him. Something that smells of recognition, like the two of you are the same.

Something chained inside of him rattles at the bars of its cage, desperate to be let out and quenched.

He steps back, frightened at your movement, at the reality of what the two of you are, so obvious here in this cage, at your perking up, your recognition of who and what he is, what he’s come for. You don’t speak, but you tell him. You wriggle beneath the covers, shimmying to turn and face him more fully, still clutching the blanket up high over your mouth, still covering half of your face, and he wants to bark at you to let him see, that he needs to see, but he grinds his teeth together. Molars going to dust down his throat, muscle wrapped around his mandible strung so tight he fears the fibers of it might burst and pop.

You settle on your side facing him now, and then something to beguile him, to bring him to his knees muzzled and obedient and calm, the sweetest, sultry little crooning cry. Something provoking, alluring, something to beckon him to you in surrender and acceptance and welcome, come from your chest up your throat to his ears. He jerks back at the sound, your big eyes still expectant and wet but demanding now. I am here waiting for you. I have been here waiting for you. Come now. He steps back to your bedside, a too small, too stiff metal railed cot he’s going to wrap around that fucking guard, caretaker, idiot, whatever he is when he comes back, falls to his knees, and your little fingers peek out and up and over the edge of the blanket now. And you surprise him doubly, tenfold, more than he can comprehend – but he already decided he will not keep you, he already made up his mind – when you say: “You came. You remembered me.”

He could never have forgotten.

A low hum, a sound to make your eyelids flutter and your legs shift beneath the heavily draped blankets. “Today’s your birthday, sweetheart, is it? Would you like to come home with me as your gift?”

He could never have forgotten.

The house that the large man who you’d waited your whole life and then a year for, brings you to – and you can’t be entirely sure, for you’ve so little experience or knowledge – but from what you can think you’re feeling now, from what you can decide, is lovely.

He had taken you in a car, a truck, you like the sound of the word, —ck, —ck, —ck, and driven a long while, through the big city which you’d seen little of, between forest and beside sea, and then finally up a long and winding road and more forest, more trees and green than you’d ever seen in your entire life, until you’d come to a cliffside, the backyard a drop off of air and rock and endless dark water, and a small house perched just there at the edge. Wooden slats, weather beaten and salt lashed, a copper sloped roof, and two pert chimneys, despite the not large area of the house, cabin. It looks, very much, as if it had grown straight from the cliff rock, sprouted by the forest, strong bones that spoke resolutely of remaining where they were no matter how hard the wind howled.

“How did it get here?” You ask the man, alpha, who’s name is Joel who has finally come for you after a life and a year of waiting.

“I made it,” and his voice is rough and demanding of attention, demanding of you, even if you don’t know, although, you do understand, what it is he’s demanding.

And you think, yes, of course. It looks a little, a lot, like him. Obvious, that it came from him.

It would be easy to think that you’re nothing but young and stupid and untried. Just a little omega kept in a cage. But you feel, after this life, not life, of being you and the thing you are, that you’re none of those things despite it all. You had lived, you had been out in the world at one time, even if briefly, even if only as a child, green and inexperienced and innocent, and although you still remain all those things, you had been out there at one point. You had never had a mother or a father, dead when you were an infant, killed in the outbreak, but you had lived with your aunt, your mother’s, many years older, sister, until you’d been ten years old. So you see, and he should see too, this man now before you, this alpha, that you were untried and inexperienced and young compared to him, but you’d had a decade of real life, even if it was the life of a child, even if afterwards it was a not life, but the before, that counted very, very much to you and so deserved respect and acknowledgement. And he should see that, although you do not know, you do understand.

After your aunt had died, and they’d taken you, first to the orphanage, and then to the place for omegas, after you’d started to mature and develop, perhaps that real life had ended. Or been put on hold, waiting for him, this alpha who seems, for all intents and purposes and from what you can gather from his sullen silence and dark looks, nothing like pleased at your presence here now. But then there was the: today’s your birthday, sweetheart, is it? And yes, yes it is your birthday.

It’s your birthday, and you’re free. And yes, you’d lived the not life in the white box for so long, and yes, you are, in fractions, so afraid and knowing so little of the world, but you do know that you want to live and to see the sky.

You want to see the sky every single day.

His big clunking truck rolls to a slow stop before the house, a wide deck wrapping around the entire boxed thing of it, and he starts to move, unclipping his belt, grabbing the bag he’d brought with him stuffed with his clothes he’d promptly tucked and folded you into when he’d shuffled you into the cabin of his truck, and you’d been all thank you, sir, to which he’d given a shake of his head, only Joel. Only Joel. No other words, no other directions, only his hands pulling your strings like a puppet. You had accepted it for the chance to feel his touch, to familiarize yourself with the closeness of him.

You want to know things. You want to know him.

He’d barely said a word the entire drive here, but you could be patient, and they’d prepared you for this, after all. They’d prepared you long and well and told you all they thought you’d need to know. So you find yourself, and not at all shockingly, as you’d waited so long for this, for him, for freedom and the sky, and look, now there’s even sea too, not even a little bit afraid, only anticipatory in bated breath, stuttering heart, excitement.

You had never seen the sea before, and you want to know things. You want to know him.

He jumps heavy and thudding form the truck, and you start to shift, something suddenly frantic and clawing rolling in your chest when you realize he’s leaving the confines of the small space the two of you had found yourselves encased in together, the warm heat from the vents blowing his smell, his smell, all around you. You’d never encountered anything like it before. Salted vetiver and warm cardamom, something sweet and musked and heavy like what your fingers taste like after you’ve pet long and needy at that soft wet place between your legs when the hurt was so tight you felt nothing would sate it. It’s a scent that you think would devastate to have taken away now that you’ve tasted it. And it’s everywhere as the two of you’d sat in his staunchly imposed silence on the truck ride to this place he was bringing you to, his home at what seems like the end of the world. It’s in your nose and down your throat, heavy and cloying and sweet on your tongue, wrapping around your waist and covering your skin and your hands so that you’d even pressed your palms entirely over your face and rubbed yourself like a cat, coating yourself in him.

The door slams, bringing you out of his scent induced reverie and back to the present, and you scramble to undo your buckle too, even though when he’d clipped it for you he’d very sternly said to not take it off, desperate to follow him wherever he’d go. But you realize quickly he’s coming around the front of the truck to your door, and then he’s there pulling it open and letting in a biting gust of wind come off the sea and up the cliffside to slash you across the face with its icy rancor. You shiver, teeth clattering and chattering in your mouth, trying to gather the blankets he’d cocooned you in, his too big, so soft clothes, more tightly around yourself, and find your feet.

He gives a rough but soothing noise, and easy as anything, plucks you up and out of the seat and into his arms, kicking the door closed behind him as he goes. Into his arms. You hold yourself stiff and wide eyed, chewing on the tips of your frozen cold fingers, and staring at him this closely, it’s shocking. Large, had been the first thing. Tall and broad and thick the way they’d said alphas are. This you had expected. The rest, you had not. The eyes, you think, more than anything. His eyes, a strange mix of hazel and brown, but dark. Eyes, that even in your greenness, you can recognize as sad and angry. And the creases at the corners, between his brows, the gray threaded through the lush, dark curls and at the corners of the hair along his jaw. He looks like he would be someone’s father. The patch of bare skin, heart shaped, amongst the whiskers. He’s beautiful, and unthinkingly, or perhaps entirely intentional, you stick out one of your saliva soaked fingers and poke him gently there, only a small prod, to feel what the heart feels like. His gait stops instantly, that permanent frown he’d worn since you’d first laid eyes on him, deepening. “Don’t do that,” he gruffs, continuing his steps up the porch now, the dark, heavy boots you’d noted as he’d taken you from the facility falling thunk, thunk on the wooden boards beneath. He’d not given you shoes of your own. And at his tone, the grumpy look, you have the inexplicable urge to laugh. To laugh at him. Surly, you want to tease, but swallow it, itchy fingertips back into the warmth of your mouth to stop yourself from touching again.

Another gust blows against the two of you as he somehow transfers you, cradled into only one arm, to pull the jingle of keys from his pocket, and you’re jarred with painful shivers, huddling closer into the unbelievably broad expanse of his chest, the unbelievably steaming warm slab. At the touch of your cheek against his collarbone you realize all he’s wearing is a simple, green flannel, no coat, nothing warm. “Aren’t you cold?” It seems suddenly, supremely important you ask, head shooting back up. He peers down his nose at you, finally getting the door open, and his eyes are a very peculiar sort of dark, you cock your head at him, a very strange sort of creature this man is, who’s come to collect you, who you’d waited all your life and a year for.

“I’m fine,” he says.

You don’t believe him.

He sets you down on a large, dark leather sofa, chocolate, the hide smooth and worn and lived in. The rest of the house, not only a house, also a home, for it’s obvious in the way of his things, the way they’re arranged and fixed and the way they too live here, not only exist here. I’ll be like that too, you think. It’s all comfortable, it’s all warm, like a den and a place to relax and be protected, juxtaposed by the sight beyond the large windows, nothing but dark, violent sea as you’ve never before seen.

He really had found a perch at the edge of the world, brought you here to perch as well.

There’s a large fireplace, inlaid with large slabs of dark stone and thick beams of wood, and yes, this too is also obvious in a peculiar and particular way. The house very much looks like it was made by the hands of a single man in some way that you cannot specifically say, but can obviously see the truth of. He made this house, and then he came for you and now he’s brought you here, and you feel, suddenly, so pleased and warm and right. Everything feels so, so right. You sigh dreamily, suffused at once with a tight, deep heat at the pit of your belly, the scent of him everywhere, bubbles floating up from the bottom of you and seeming to pop out your ears. You lean back into the deep couch, wiggling this way and that, rubbing your bottom into the soft cushions to snuggle up, bringing the neck of his sweater he’d put you in up to your nose to breathe deep and long.

He’s moving around, arranging things this way and that, a thick log in the slumbering coals, a pillow here, another blanket atop you, not looking at you, setting a wide berth once he’s settled the throw, not talking to you. It’s fine, let him do as he pleases and needs, you’ll sit here and watch. You can tell he doesn’t like to talk, that words cost him something, and you know so little, but you understand this. Words do cost something, truths, the truth of your before life and your not life. The truth of those realities cost. So, yes, you understand, and he doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to yet. And looking at him, you realize that everything inside of you feels soft and bruised and little. And yet, despite all that, ready, in want and need of him. Ready to be big.

Joel.

You must say the word out loud, his name, for he stops and finally turns to face you. There is something vibrational within him. Different. You’ve never seen a creature as such. You’d never seen an alpha before, not since you’d presented, you’ve never been around one. The caretakers were all always betas, people who would not be affected by the omega’s presence and fluctuations.

He swallows once, twice, twitches and jerks and heaves a big sigh. He’s so full of energy as you, suddenly, in opposition, feel so sleepy and drowsy and ready to close your eyes and only feel warm and relaxed. You like his house, you might love it, even.

Your eyelids droop low, slow blinks, and you watch his face fold into a frown. You want to laugh, he does that so much. They’d said that alphas could have big tempers, that they could be brash and aggressive and loud, but that the omega would naturally temper that. You think it may be true because as you watch him through the weave of your lashes, his frown deepening the longer he stares at you slowly drowsing on his couch which you hope he’ll never make you move from, the jitters and the shakes and the trembling that he’d seemed, just a moment ago, to be so full of, begin to quietly abate.

He takes a step toward you, another and another until his shins meet the edge of the sofa, and you snuggle deeper into the cushions, making yourself into as little a ball as possible, so full of sleepiness.

“How do you feel?”

“I like your house so much,” you slur, head drooping, lashes drooping.

He clicks his tongue, makes that rumbly noise you think is an alpha thing because it has your eyes suddenly clicking open, sleep haze clearing momentarily so that you can look up at him again, and he’s looking at you so peculiarly. You scrunch your nose up at him, there’s no need to look at you so, you’re only an omega, only a little tired, nothing to stare at so strangely.

“I’m–” he clears his throat, makes that rumble, growl, huff sound again, “I’m glad you like it. I wanted you to be comfortable while you’re here.”

And oh, he’s so nice, you tell him, and, “I am. I’m so comfortable.” You melt further into the couch, and he crouches down to peer at you more directly, pulling a soft pillow from the opposite end and tucking it under your head, the large, rough cup of his paw cradling your skull, big fingers weaving through your hair. He arranges you so gently, like he’d take care of you. Like you’re here, finally, finally, you’re here to be taken care of.

It’s what they’d said would happen, and you’d waited so long. You’d waited too long to be let out of the white box, for him to come, to see the sky. And now there was so much; of him, of the house, of the sky, of your whole life and the sea.

You nuzzle your head into his big hand, the heat of it searing your scalp, your ear tucked into his palm. “Brave girl,” he hums. He has such a deep voice, a good voice for an alpha, you think, a very good voice. You feel it vibrating in your toes and in your eyelashes and in your belly. “You’ve been through a great deal, haven’t you?” You want to say yes, you want to remind him that you’d waited for him for so very long, and that when you woke up, if you remembered, you’d be very cross with him for taking so long to come for you.

“You rest now,” he says. “It’s all alright now.” Yes, a very good voice.

2. More Intelligent Than a Face

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#HSM fic #vic fic #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #the last of us AU #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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beguines · 4 months

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Yet problems in the legitimacy of psychiatry's vocation have remained, and reached crisis point at the cusp of deinstitutionalisation in the 1970s. At the time, a number of significant studies demonstrated the profession's inherent tendency to label people as "mentally ill," to stigmatise everyday aspects of a person’s behaviour as signs of pathology, and to make judgements on a person's mental health status based on subjective judgements rather than objective criteria.

The study that had the most direct impact on the psychiatric profession—as well as public consciousness—at this time was David Rosenhan's (1973) classic research On Being Sane in Insane Places which found that psychiatrists could not distinguish between "real" and "pseudo" patients presenting at psychiatric hospitals in the United States. All of Rosenhan's "pseudo" patients (college students/researchers involved in the experiment) were admitted and given a psychotic label, and all the subsequent behaviour of the researchers—including their note-taking—was labelled by staff as further symptoms of their disorder. This research was a culmination of earlier studies on labelling and mental illness which had begun in the 1960s with Irving Goffman (1961) and Thomas Scheff (1966). Goffman's ethnographic study of psychiatric incarceration demonstrated many of the features which Rosenhan's study would later succinctly outline, including the arbitrary nature of psychiatric assessment, the labelling of patient behaviour as further evidence of "mental illness," and the processes of institutional conformity by which the inmates learned to accept such labels if they wanted to have any chance of being released from the institution at a later date. Scheff's work on diagnostic decision making in psychiatry formulated a general labelling theory for the sociology of mental health. Again, his research found that psychiatrists made arbitrary and subjective decisions on those designated as "mentally ill," sometimes retaining people in institutions even when there was no evidence to support such a decision. Psychiatrists, he argued, relied on a common sense set of beliefs and practices rather than observable, scientific evidence. Scheff concluded that the labelling of a person with a "mental illness" was contingent on the violation of social norms by low-status rule-breakers who are judged by higher status agents of social control (in this case, the psychiatric profession). Thus, according to these studies, the nature of "mental illness" is not a fixed object of medical study but rather a form of "social deviance"—a moral marker of societal infraction by the powerful inflicted on the powerless. This situation is summated in Becker's general theory of social deviance which stated that "deviance is not a quality of the act the person commits, but rather a consequence of the application by others of rules and sanctions to an 'offender.' The deviant is one to whom that label has successfully been applied; deviant behavior is behavior that people so label".

Bruce M.Z. Cohen, Psychiatric Hegemony: A Marxist Theory of Mental Illness

#bruce m.z. cohen #psychiatric hegemony #psychiatry

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trracstudy · 9 days

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heesdreamer · 1 year

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HOMES NOT HOME

PAIRING ➩ jay x reader

SUMMARY ➩ recently smitten with the most popular guy on campus, park sunghoon, you’re struck with the rumor that he only likes girls with experience. your only option is to ask your best friend for help.

WARNINGS ➩ smut and uhh i can’t remember honestly lol nothing crazy

WC ➩ 15.7k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ loosely based and named after this song so listen if you’d like. my mental health has been bad so this isn’t proofread AT ALL and it was written in tiny fragments over the week instead of my normal one sitting so sorry if it’s not consistent or choppy

“I need you to have sex with me.”

You were stating it casually as you crossed through the threshold of your best friends apartment, using your copy of the key to let yourself in and throwing your bag loosely on the couch before attacking him with the direct statement.

He was sitting at his desk and you watched him impatiently as he slowly turned his chair in your direction, pushing his glasses off his nose and onto his head as he stared at you with a bored expression.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He was asking you in his usual steady tone and you let out a groan before approaching him dramatically and dropping to your knees in front of his spinning chair.

TWO HOURS EARLIER

“Wait.. are you serious?” Your head was picking up at the sound of your friends confused voice, falling into a disbelieving laugh that caused you to send her a sharp glare and move your hair out of your face.

“What’s so funny about that?” You were spitting at her in frustration, having just confessed to her your undying crush on a boy at your school. You’d dramatically slammed your head down onto the table afterwards and only lifted it back up when you heard her insulting tone.

“You are so not Sunghoon’s type.” Yuna was shaking her head and casually scrolling through her phone as she broke the news to you, not even bothering to let you down gently or pay you a second of attention.

She wasn’t necessarily trying to be rude, she was simply just used to your antics and impulsive behavior. When you’d approached the table in anguish citing that you were in an unrequited love with a member of the biggest frat on campus, she’d automatically knew you were in one of your erratic moods.

“What’s his type then?” You were piqued with interest and scooting forward in anticipation for her answer, your butt leaving the seat as your elbows slide across the table and you were leaned on top of it.

“I don’t know… girls like him I guess.” She shrugged softly and finally glanced over her glass screen to look at you as she delivered the final blow. “Girls with experience.”

Jay was staring down at you from where he was sat at his chair, his face unchanging as you clutched onto his knee and dramatically retold the story that had led you to making such a ridiculous request when you walked through the door. He was more used to your behavior than anybody else and had the knowledge and experience to not take you seriously.

“And what does this have to do with me exactly?” He was sighing and your mouth parted in disbelief, genuinely not understanding how he wasn’t getting where you were coming from.

“Are you kidding me? Dude we’ve been friends since like… forever. Who else would I do it with?” You were sitting back on the carpet now that you could tell he wasn’t going to budge, leaning back on your palms and still sitting at his feet.

The phrase to describe the duration of your friendship, wasn’t one of your exaggerations. You’d actually been friends for as long as you can remember and the two of you had never been separated since meeting, becoming quickly known as a solid unit and never being seen without the other.

It slowed down as you got older and gained your own personalities and hobbies, surprisingly opposites considering you’d spend all of your developmental years together but it never put much of a hinderance on your friendship. Jay kept you steady and grounded when you were close to bouncing off the walls and you made sure he didn’t rot away in his apartment having no social life.

“Plus, you’ve been with girls haven’t you?” You were asking him slowly and he just stared at you in response, sighing softly when your mouth curled into a knowing smile and you sat back up on your knees.

“Why do you want to be with a douchebag like Park Sunghoon anyways?” He was looking away from you as he said it, looking only slightly flushed at your sitting position before he was diverting his attention back to the laptop on the desk in front of him.

“He’s not that bad. He’s way better than the last few guys.” You were trying to justify your taste but you could see him rolling his eyes, knowing that your standards were extremely low and it didn’t take a lot to be better than your exes.

You were sighing softly and standing up off the floor, making your way across the room and flopping down on his bed with a flair of dramatics. You landed on your stomach but you looked back over your shoulder to see if he was watching you and your antics, smiling softly when you saw that he was, out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine, since you don’t want to do it I’ll just have to find somebody else.” You made sure to keep your voice extra disappointed and dramatic and you heard him let out a small scoff at your exaggeration. “I’ll just ask that Jeongguk guy from the arts department, you know the one who keeps making passes at me every party.”

You glanced back over at him and couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from your lips when you saw the annoyed expression on his face. He was wheeling the chair closer to the bed and sighing again, taking his glasses off of his forehead so he could run his hands through his hair.

“Wouldn’t it be too weird?” He was asking and you were sitting back up in anticipation now that he was asking questions, possibly interested in accepting your proposal. “I mean.. are you even attracted to me?”

Your mouth was falling open slightly as you stared at him in disbelief, leaning forward slightly to see if he was being serious before you were frowning at him. “Are you being serious right now?”

He didn’t say anything and he didn’t need to, knowing that you knew he was always serious, almost painfully so sometimes. He was watching you as you scooted forward so you were closer to the edge of the bed and by default closer to where he had pulled the chair up to, looking into his eyes earnestly as you dropped the worlds most awkward truth bomb on him.

“Jay. You’re like… sexy.” You were telling him in a flat voice and he could tell you were being serious but he couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him at your sincere tone and the frown that only deepened when he chuckled at you.

“Okay fine, so when would we do this?” He was asking and you gasped with excitement, sitting up fully and throwing yourself onto his lap so you could wrap your arms around him in thanks, squealing slightly when the chair spun around at the sudden collision and nearly tipped the both of you over onto the floor.

You’d left his apartment with the promise to return the next night for your first lessons, thanking him with a big grin and failing to notice the apprehension he had in his eyes when he gave you a half smile back before closing his door.

——

Never in your entire life had you felt nervous to see your bestfriend. Not even after you’d gotten your period for the first time in gym class and everybody had laughed and pointed, not when your parents had first started to talk about divorce and you had to go and stay with him and his mom for a few days and not even when you’d gotten totally dumped right before prom night and showed up at his door in your dress with makeup running down your face.

You’d never been hesitant to raise your hand to knock on his door, cringing after you did so and the foreign noise rang far too loud, remembering suddenly that you had your own key and typically would just let yourself in.

Still, you waited for him to come open the door and you scowled at yourself when you instinctively flattened your hair and tried to lean against the door in a semi seductive way. He was swinging the door open with a raised eyebrow before you had the chance to stand upright and amusement paused over his features as he looked at you.

“Are you trying to rob me or something?” He was asking and you swiftly were reminded of who you were here to see, your shoulders losing tension as you pushed past him into the room.

“I was trying to be sexy dickhead.” You were complaining to him and you tried not to feel nervous again as you sat down on his bed, glancing at him to see him watching you from over by the couch. “So how do we do this?”

He was shrugging softly after a few seconds but still approaching you and also sitting on the bed, a normal distance away from you but for some reason it felt both too close and too far away. You were reminded why you hadn’t lost your virginity yet despite the overwhelming desire to, freezing up and becoming awkward whenever you entered a situation that could potentially lead to it.

“First, you’ve gotta relax dude.” He was sighing and you look over at him with a frown, not surprised that he had immediately clocked your hesitation. “It’s just me.”

This fact did little to help you now that you thought about it. You’d immediately came to him because he was your other half and there was no way you’d ever find somebody you were more comfortable being vulnerable with but you hadn’t considered the fact you’d actually have to have sex with him to have sex with him.

Jay was attractive, something you’ve always known and never bothered to deny despite not outwardly announcing it. You listened bitterly to your other friends gossip and gush about him once you entered high school and he hit puberty, growing rapidly in height and his features sharpening.

It only worsened when he became obsessed with going to the gym after school and wearing clothes that showed off his arms even when it was cold outside.

You were filled with a weird sense of pride that he had chosen to be your best friend even throughout his growing popularity, denying dates with beautiful girls if the two of you already had plans and never paying any mind to the way your friends would throw themselves at him every time you managed to drag him out to parties with you.

Yet you’d never thought of him in that way, despite your moms always talking about how the two of you were destined to be married and how most guys you encountered told you that they’d just assumed Jay was your boyfriend and never bothered to try and flirt with you because of that.

“We should probably kiss each other.” You were suddenly blurting out and his face instinctively scrunched up at the suggestion, causing you to sigh softly and look at him in bewilderment. “We can’t have sex and not kiss, that’s super weird.”

“I know I know.” He was telling you and he was sitting up from where he’d been leaned against the headboard and you flushed now that he was closer to you, feeling weird that his presence was causing that within this specific context.

You’d kissed Jay before, quite a few times but it was never anything more than quick press of your lips or a peck that you immediately recoiled from. He’d actually been your first kiss, surging forward during a spin the bottle game in middle school before anybody else got the chance and you had thanked him with ice cream later that night for saving your virgin lips from one of the creepy older boys eyeing you.

That was just Jay, the most selfless and caring best friend you could ever imagine and you felt lucky every time he was doing you a ridiculous favor at 4am after you’d awaken him from his deep sleep.

Another reason why you hadn’t hesitated in asking him to help you with this although now you were slightly regretting it and not the biggest fan of how quick he was to accept anything you wished for. He was eyeing you curiously and you knew he had sensed your hesitance, making you worried that he would back out under the impression you didn’t actually want this to happen.

You were moving closer to him before he could do so and his eyes widened for a second at your sudden close proximity before his eyes were falling down to your lips and then back up again like he was asking for permission.

You nodded softly but you still weren’t prepared for the way his hand came up to cup the side of your face gently, helping you meet him halfway into a kiss and you tensed up at the contact. He pulled back for a second after barely touching your lips, waiting for you to loosen up and when your shoulders were dropping and you pushed forward again he finally moved more.

The first thing you noticed was that Jay was a good kisser. He was moving against you slowly but you could tell he was taking it easy on you, his thumb swiping along your cheek to keep your anxiety calm and if you didn’t know any better you’d think this wasn’t a big deal at all to him. But you did know better, in fact you knew best, and you could tell he was equally as nervous as you were judging by the way his eyes darted around your face every time he pulled back to make sure it was still okay.

“Can I try more?” He was rasping out to you and your stomach tightened at the sound of his voice. You thought you’d heard all of his voices, having heard him angry and yelling or upset with his voice cracking around words before fading out into a low whisper but you’d never heard it like this before.

You didn’t even think before nodding your head, leaning towards him again in a daze and ignoring the soft laugh he let out as your lips connected once more. He was kissing you the same as before, slow and patient so he didn’t push your limits and you were growing slightly impatient until you felt his tongue swipe across your lower lip.

Your mouth parted in a surprised gasp but he seemed to take this as an invitation, slipping it into your mouth and you squirmed at the feeling of him licking into the kiss. You shifted forward towards him instinctively on the bed and you felt your knee collide with his, ignoring it in favor of pushing your own tongue against his and listening to the small groan that slipped out of his mouth.

“Is it okay?” He was barely pulling back to ask and you were still trying to move closer to him as he spoke, making the words muffled as he ignored your desperation. You were nodding as an answer to him and he seemed pleased by your confirmation before remembering he was meant to be teaching you. “Try sucking on it a little.”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion and you stopped trying to kiss him so you could stare up at him in confusion, watching in amusement as his ears turned slightly red and he looked something close to bashful for suggesting it.

“Does that make you feel good?” You were whispering to him, speaking for the first time since this started and his eyes shot back down to your lips now that they were moving.

“I-I mean.. I think most guys would like it.” He was trying to justify his reasoning for suggesting something so specific but he could tell by your smile that was slowly growing that you were just messing with him, sighing softly before leaning into you again to reconnect the kiss.

Despite you making fun of him, you still were nervous to test out what he had suggested and you were grateful that he started off slow again and didn’t immediately stick his tongue down your throat. He kissed you gently for almost too long and you decided to act before he did, parting his lips slightly and deepening it yourself. He hummed in approval and your face flushed red at the small noise, fighting the urge to retreat and hide your face from him.

You could feel him take a deep breath when you were hesitantly sucking his tongue into your mouth, twisting your head sideways so you could take it deeper and pull back and forth along it.

His hand was shooting to your knee and gripping it tightly at the feeling, giving you a warning to stop that you quickly ignored. You never thought that kissing Jay would feel so good, leave you shuffling forward into his touch on your leg and desperately kissing him continuously to ensure he wouldn’t stop.

He was making another low sound into your mouth and only then did you pull off for a second, breathing heavily and staring at him with hooded eyes. He held your stare for a few seconds before he was looking away suddenly, his expression not giving anything away but you could tell he was starting to overthink about the whole situation.

“Is it too weird?” You were asking him and he glanced over at you at the sound of your breathy voice, eyes shooting down to your swollen lips and then back to his hand that was still on your knee.

He removed it and you weirdly felt a pang of disappointment at the movement, scooting closer to him on the bed and leaning forward slightly into his line of vision so he had no choice but to give his attention to you. His expression was neutral again when he looked at you and you found yourself cursing the fact your bestfriend was so stoic.

“I think we should stop here for the day.” He was telling you in a calm voice and your mouth fell into a pout of disappointment without you even realizing it, only noticing it when his eyes went back to your lips and stayed there when he saw the way they were jutted out.

“We barely even did anything.” You weren’t embarrassed by the childish whine slipping into your tone, knowing perfectly well what typically got Jay to succumb to your wants and you could tell he was weak spirited in his attempt to stop early by the way he sighed softly and continued to stare at you in contemplation.

“What else did you want to do?” His question was making you freeze up, not expecting the control to be handed over to you and you instinctively shrugged as the familiar nerves crept back up.

He quickly picked up on your body language and the fact you didn’t want to be the one in charge of making the decisions, sensing the panic building inside you at his lack of control and he shifted on the bed before sighing once again and shaking his head to himself in disbelief. You watched him as he leaned back up against the headboard, his legs spread out in front of him and your eyes widened slightly when he was patting his lap expectantly.

“You always sit on my lap, don’t overthink it.” He was instructing you when you he saw your facial expression and you nodded softly before you were scooting forward and situating yourself sideways on his lap, directly on top of his thighs and holding onto his shoulders so you didn’t lose your balance.

He was right, you did often sit on his lap even when he groaned and told you to get off and you rarely thought twice about doing the action but you didn’t ever sit in his lap with this weird energy in the room. And you definitely never sat in his lap and leaned down to kiss him again like you were now, moving without realizing but you were grateful that he was quickly kissing you back without any hesitation now and you could feel his hand laying over your own legs to hold your waist and keep you steady.

You were slightly above him in the new position so he had to crane his neck to meet with your lips and you could feel his jaw tensing under where your hand was moving to, holding his face gently and kissing him deeper.

His hand was tightening when you shifted in place uncomfortably and you pulled out of the kiss to glance at him, seeing his awkward expression for just a second before your eyes were falling down to where you were sat against him. You shifted again experimentally and he let out a low groan, squeezing your waist almost painfully on reflex and your lips curled back into a smile.

“Cut it out.” He was squeezing out the words in a wince and you ignored him, shifting your hips over his again and feeling him lift his fingers to swat at your skin where your shirt had ridden up. “I said cut it out dickhead.”

“Can’t you at least pretend we are doing this for real?” You were stopping in your movements to pout down at him, your hand leaving his face and instead brushing through his hair gently. He was watching you with an annoyed expression but you knew it wasn’t sincere. “Try dirty talking to me or something.”

He snorted out a laugh of disbelief and shook his head, denying your request even when your pout deepened and you huffed in disappointment. You were a bit confused within yourself at your own request, not necessarily needing practice in that department but for some reason you wanted to hear his voice more while you were doing this.

“I’m not going to dirty talk.” He was denying even harder, seemingly genuinely flabbergasted that you were asking him to do that and you sighed softly.

“At least say something nice, call me pretty or something.” Your hands were running through his hair as you spoke and he lost his amused expression after a few seconds, staring at you as he processed your words and instinctively leaning closer to your touch.

He was kissing you again then and you were throw off by how familiar it felt, how easy it was for you to immediately move against him like this was something you’d been doing for years. It felt different now that his hands were touching you, squeezing your lower back so you were leaning forward towards his chest and still using your hands in his hair to tilt his head back and give you more access.

“You know you’re pretty.” He was breathing out the words into your mouth and you smiled into the kiss, deepening it again once more before you were pulling back a bit to respond to him.

“So pretty it makes you crazy?” Your voice was teasing again and his eyes flashed with a glint of something you didn’t recognize, watching you in a way that would’ve made you squirm if it was anybody else.

But it wasn’t anybody else, it was him and because it was him you were able to laugh softly before wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder, grateful when he took the hint that you were done for now and leaned further into the headboard so you could both lay down with you still in his lap.

You tried not to think about the fact you could taste Jay on your lips still or the low noises that were pulled out of him just a few minutes ago, instead just laying there with him and hoping you wouldn’t regret this.

——

After you’d left his apartment you didn’t see Jay for the next two days. It wasn’t extremely rare that you were apart that long but it was right around the amount of time where you’d start to get antsy and miss being in his comforting presence, always finding a natural relaxer in him and his calm personality so you didn’t think twice before you were heading over to his place after your final class for the day.

You were skipping a step at a time as you made your way up to his apartment floor, passing through the outside walkway and the other residents tables and children’s toys with familiarity and ease.

Your fingers were reaching down into your bag in search of your key, adorned on the keychain that contained a polaroid of the two of you from high school also attached. Your search slowed to a stop when you rounded the last corner and saw that his door was already open, eyebrows furrowing at the fact he was standing in the doorway and smiling as he talked to a girl standing against the outside railing.

She was grinning back at him, flicking her hair back over her shoulder and your eyes narrowed at the way she laughed loudly and leaned forward to push against his arm teasingly.

Jay was extremely nice with an overload of manners and gentle acts of kindness but he definitely wasn’t the most social person you knew and you rarely saw him interacting with people outside of you and a few boys he’d met at work. You absolutely didn’t recognize her and you were certain you’d never seen her before, even more so when he was catching sight of you out of the corner of his eye and you saw them widen slightly.

She was noticing that he was distracted and following his line of sight, mouth pursing in confusion when she saw you and your pointed glare.

It made you feel worse that she clearly had no idea who you were, extremely unnerved at the idea of somebody knowing Jay yet never hearing of you and you didn’t care about the weird way your stomach turned when he cleared his throat to bring her attention back towards him.

She glanced over at you once more before looking back at him and your scowl deepened when she automatically was falling into that smile again, flirty and seductive as she titled her head slightly. You watched as he gave her a small wave goodbye after saying something you couldn’t hear and you didn’t bother turning your body when she walked past, leaving her to awkwardly squeeze past you.

Jay was watching the exchange and sighed softly when he saw your dark expression, turning around and heading back into his apartment but leaving the door open so you could follow.

“Who was that?” You were demanding as you stormed through, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter and turning towards where he was situating himself down on the couch.

“New hire at work.” He was explaining in a bored tone and you watched as he looked over his shoulder at you, immediately understanding that you wanted more context and shrugging softly as he continued. “I’m supposed to show her the ropes and she asked to go out for coffee.”

“She walked you home?” You were interjecting and slipping off your shoes, making your way over to the couch and sitting up on your knees next to him once you got over there.

He nodded his head in confirmation, watching you carefully and you frowned softly. Jay was used to your possessiveness when it came to him and sharing his time and energy, it had actually caused a few arguments between the two of you that always ended with you crying and apologizing for your behavior and him telling you it was okay and that he really didn’t mind.

Sometimes you thought he was just saying it to be nice and make you feel better but other times you had a hunch that he actually didn’t mind your clinginess. You’d see a small smirk playing on his face when you stayed close to him at parties or sent sharp stares towards girls who were eyeing him with terrible intentions.

“She was pretty.” You were telling him matter of factly but you were watching him carefully to see how he’d respond and he gave you a knowing look before shaking his head.

“I didn’t realize.” He was responding and you smiled at his attempt at a safe answer, leaning closer into his side and tugging at his sleeve with impatience.

“What are you teaching me today, oh wise one.” He was scrunching up his nose at your choice of title towards him and you could feel him tensing against you at the reminder he was meant to be showing you more things today, only just having finished reeling from kissing earlier in the week.

He wasn’t answering right away so you were sitting up to look at him better, still leaning into him but closer to his face now and in a better position to catch the way his eyes darted down to your lips for a few seconds too long. He was meeting your eyes again and he saw the excitement in them before you were leaning in to kiss him.

You weren’t wasting anytime today considering you’d already pushed past the awkwardness of actually kissing for the first time, throwing your leg over his on the couch so you were straddling his lap and you cut off the small inhale he took at the feeling by licking into his mouth.

His hands were sliding back around to your back, just to rest there as you lowered yourself down on him and leaned fully into the kiss. You weren’t going to admit to him how much you liked kissing him, keeping it a secret within yourself that you almost wished you could just do this for the rest of the night. Just almost though because his hands were squeezing against your waist and you felt a surge of want run through you.

“Can I put you in my mouth?” You were pulling off to whisper into his mouth and his entire body tensed up at your words.

“Jesus christ Y/N.” He was scolding you for your sudden exclamation but you could feel the way his hips twitched in interest underneath your weight. “Warn a guy before you say something like that.”

“It’s important though, isn’t it?” You were muttering to him and ignoring his complaints, circling your hips over him and smiling softly when he let out a low groan at the feeling. He looked slightly pained and conflicted and you almost laughed at him but held it in so he wouldn’t tell you no. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it before, I’m a girl after all.”

“I didn’t realize you were a girl until like junior year.” He was teasing back but your frown immediately deepened and you shoved his shoulder in irritation. He laughed softly at your reaction but didn’t say anything else when you rocked your hips again.

“You’ve really never thought about it?” You were asking him again but your tone was different now, breathier and nearly a purr as you hovered your mouth over his. He kissed you softly for just a second before you were pulling slightly out of his reach. “Never once thought about sticking your cock down my throat Jay?”

He cursed under his breath again but this time you could tell he was taking you seriously, his hands tightening continuously around your hips and helping you rock against him. You were letting out a small hiccuped gasp and falling forward slightly onto his chest at the feeling of him pushing up into you, feeling him hard underneath you.

You’d never thought about Jay being hard before and a year ago the idea probably would have made you throw up in your mouth. You were trying to convince yourself that this reaction was purely biological, throbbing now at the feeling of him pressing against you continuously, but you couldn’t stop staring at his hooded eyes and the way his jaw tensed every time you lowered yourself harder onto him.

“Get on your knees then.” He was mumbling out against your lips and you felt a shiver wrack through you at the stern tone he had taken, hearing it hundreds of times before and you mostly never listened to him but your body instinctively was sliding off his lap and hitting the carpet.

You were sat next to his feet with wide and confused eyes, watching him to see what you were supposed to do next and he seemed to snap out of it and remember he was supposed to be showing you how to do it, shaking his head slightly to ground himself before lifting his hips off the couch and undoing his belt with one hand.

You watched him with fascination as you leaned forward to get closer to him, your hands landing on his thighs and feeling the muscle clench under your hands.

He paused for a second and was staring at you long enough for you to start shifting uncomfortably, not being able to read the expression on his face and taking it as a negative considering how weird the situation was.

“You can close your eyes and pretend it’s someone else if you need to.” You were offering the out to him and his eyebrows furrowed at your suggestion, although not saying anything as he slid his pants down his thighs.

Your eyes were dropping to his crotch and they widened slightly, completely forgetting about the weird moment you’d just had and leaning forward again so you could touch him. He swore under his breath when you rubbed your hand over the print in his boxers, muttering something about you warning him again.

“Stop being so tense.” You were telling him as you continued to touch him over the fabric, watching with interest as his stomach clenched and he tongued at his cheek.

“Sorry it’s just… you’re touching my dick dude.” He was wincing out and scrunching his nose at the sentence, causing a small laugh to slip out of you before you were getting serious again and squeezing his length softly.

“This is supposed to be sexy.” Your tone was slightly disappointed and he picked his head up from where it’d fallen back against the couch, looking at you and your dejected expression before his gaze was falling to your hand on top of him.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that.” He was responding in a low tone and you were confused for a second before flushing at the realization he was implying this was attractive to him without any effort.

He wasn’t saying anything again after that and you noticed he was a bit too distracted to actually give you a play by play, something you didn’t mind considering how it might take you out of the moment and make you too nervous to be given specific instructions to follow. You decided to just try your best and hope he would correct you if you hurt him or did anything wrong.

You were leaning forward to put your mouth on him, instinctively sucking softly over his underwear and he let out a loud groan again, his hips kicking forward automatically and you smiled against him at the apology he forced out.

It was making you feel weird that you were so enamored by the faces Jay made when he was feeling good, the way his jaw clenched and the breaths he hissed through his teeth. You were shifting in your kneeling position uncomfortably with the wetness dripping down your thighs.

“Take it out.” You were telling him softly, trying to distract yourself from this realization and he picked his head up again to look at you for a second before nodding swiftly and lifting his hips up off the couch again.

You expected him to be more hesitant like he had been, looking like he was on the verge of calling this whole ordeal off at every move you made, so you were slightly thrown off when his cock was suddenly bare and standing straight right in front of your face. Your eyes widened slightly at the appearance and you could feel him staring down at your face to gauge your reaction.

“This is pretty impressive Jay.” You were remaking before glancing up at him and seeing an amused look pass over his face before he was rolling his eyes at you.

“Yeah.. so maybe we should work on dirty talk.” He was retorting, making fun of your plain style of a compliment.

You were being honest though, genuinely thrown off by his size and length. This was something you’ve definitely thought about just not in such a hands on way, more so out of curiosity to what your quiet friend was packing and wondering the reasoning behind the small smirk he got around his male friends whenever they started arguing over who was bigger.

You didn’t need to wonder anymore, clearly having your answer now and whilst you’d never paid much thought to your best friends dick size, it was undeniable that it was big enough to make your mouth instinctively water.

His hand was gently pushing your hair out of your face as you leaned forward towards his lower half again and your eyes snapped up once more just for a second, faltering slightly at the affectionate look in his eyes as he tucked some loose strands behind your ears and then you were fully moving forward and taking his head into your mouth.

“Oh fuck.” The words were slipping out of his mouth and you could tell he was using a lot of his focus to stop himself from bucking forward into your mouth. “D-don’t worry about fitting it all he’ll like it if you just, fuck, do what you can then use your hands.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a second at who he was referring to and he noticed, his eyebrow cocking at your expression before you were remembering the whole reason he was letting you do this and your face flushed. You quickly tried to distract him from your mistake, licking up his length softly and feeling relief when his head was falling back in a sharp gasp.

He didn’t say anything else for awhile other than occasionally muttering that you were doing a good job or softly telling you to watch your teeth, his hand in your hair but not tugging, just resting there and keeping it out of your face.

You could tell he was close after not too long of your soft touches and amateurish licks, his hips kicking up off the couch instinctively and his free hand curling into the fabric below it. You were watching him from behind your eyelashes and you felt the urge to draw his attention back to you, give him a reason to look at you while you did this and not lean his head back against the couch.

“Go to a party with me tonight.” You were taking your mouth off of him and freezing in your movements, keeping your hand still where it was wrapped around the base of his length but squeezing it softly.

He was lifting his head up swiftly and glancing down at you with a panicked look, his eyes shooting to your hand around him and then immediately up to your face. His ears turned red when he caught sight of your swollen lips and teary eyes but he didn’t say anything about it and instead just shook his head at you.

“What are you talking about?” He was groaning out, followed by an even louder noise when you were squeezing him again. “Cut that out.”

“Tell me you’ll come with me.” You were leaning forward to suck his head into your mouth slightly, tasting the beginning of his end on your tongue and almost recoiling from the shock of the taste.

You held strong to prove your point, taking him deeper into your mouth and a heat passed through you at the fact he was watching you now, eyes transfixed down on your face and darkening as he watched you try to fit as much of him in your throat as possible. You shifted on your knees again uncomfortably due to the throbbing behind your underwear, resisting the urge to sit yourself down on his foot and take some of the pressure off your core.

He didn’t say anything regarding your request until he was getting close again, sighing when you removed your mouth once more and he realized you weren’t going to let him cum until he agreed to come with you.

“Fuck, fine I’ll go.” He was rushing out and you smiled softly at him, eyes lighting up with excitement and he thought about how familiar the expression was in such a jarring foreign setting.

Any contemplation about your strange situation was gone the second you were taking him back into your mouth, feeling how tight and wet your throat was before you were finally letting him finish. You winced at the feeling of him cumming inside your mouth but the noises he made distracted you from it, watching him become overwhelmed with pleasure that you caused.

You were smiling again even though he wasn’t looking anymore, suddenly feeling a lot better about this.

——

“I can’t believe you actually got him to come out.” You were turning around at the sound of somebody’s voice behind you, two drinks in hand and a raised eyebrow until you saw it was one of the boys from the football team who knew Jay.

“It was just some mild convincing.” You smiled at him, lips curling up and your mind flashed with the memory of how Jay looked sitting above you on the couch.

He hadn’t complained much about having to come, throwing in small statements of annoyance here and there but for the most part he’d been a good sport. You’d expected it to be more awkward around him, your own face flushing with heat when he had arrived at your dorm to pick you up but he was almost overly casual about the entire ordeal and you felt a bit childish for not being able to hold eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I guess he’s got that soft spot for you.” He was responding and shifting in his spot where he was looking out at the crowd. “I’m sure he won’t regret it after tonight.” The boy was chirping back and your own grin fell in confusion at the smirk on his face, following where his eyes were looking and fully frowning when you saw somebody standing next to your friend now.

She looked familiar, maybe a classmate or somebody who worked around campus, but you couldn’t quite place where you had seen her. Maybe this was due to the fact you weren’t at all focused on her face, your eyes locked on her hand that was wrapped around Jay’s wrist as she laughed softly at something he was saying.

He looked just as awkward as he always did but you felt like he was watching her reaction to see if she’d laugh at his comment, whatever it may be, and your eyebrow cocked softly at the fact he wasn’t moving away from her touch at all. You felt stupid when the jock next to you was awkwardly clearing his throat at your sudden silence, glancing over at him and then turning red because your own jealous thoughts regarding your best friend.

You were fully aware you had an issue when it came to being possessive over him but it had never necessarily extended to him interacting with other girls in a flirty way, especially when he genuinely seemed interested. You didn’t typically try to set him up or guide him towards a relationship but you never interfered with a potential one, you certainly never felt such a weird pit in your stomach because of it.

You were making your way back to him without saying another word to the boy beside you, two cups still tightly held in your hand and you saw the girl glance over at you as you approached.

She dropped her hand off of Jay’s arm and you smiled a wide fake grin at her, casually passing him his drink and tilting your head with faux curiosity. You could feel him looking at the side of your face as you did so, feeling your arm brush against his considering how close you had planted yourself to him and you were parting your mouth to speak before you thought about it.

“Are you Jay’s friend?” You were asking her in a friendly voice but you knew she could see the glint in your eye, the way you leaned your body towards Jay as you said his name and tightened your grip around your cup.

“I.. I mean yeah, well not really. I’m just-“ She was trying to explain with a small nervous chuckle, her eyes shooting back and forth between you and him like she expected him to interject and tell you her reason for being there.

“Not really then.” Your second smile was a lot more forced and showcasing a sympathy for her that was mean and unnecessary, slipping off when she was glaring at you slightly before turning to leave and walk around from the two of you.

You moved away from him again with a sigh once she was gone, turning your body to rest your back against the wall and take a sip from your drink. Jay was tense next to you but you didn’t notice until he was looking at you with a flat expression, clearly slightly annoyed by what you had done and you raised an eyebrow at him in question.

“Why did you do that?” He was asking and he was keeping his tone steady like he was genuinely curious but you could tell he was frustrated. You had a feeling that you’d get into an argument if you gave him a wrong answer, shifting uncomfortably and frowning softly.

“You looked uncomfortable.” You were shrugging as the lie slipped through your lips and you glanced at him when he scoffed and pressed himself against the wall next to you, shoulder bumping yours and staying there.

“Did I?” He was retorting and you could tell he knew you were lying, he always did and you felt suddenly embarrassed about how you’d reacted.

You didn’t respond to him but you turned your head to look at him between, something unidentifiable and heavily weighted in your eyes and he watched you carefully before his eyes were flicking down to your lips and then back up. Your interest was piqued at this and you were instinctively leaning closer to him, developing a habit after the last few times but stopping when he was suddenly clearing his throat.

“Park is probably around here somewhere.” He was telling you and his face pulled into a small grimace as he said it, looking away from you and missing the way you froze up slightly at the mention of the boy. “Aren’t you wanting to go find him?”

“I don’t know.” You were shrugging again and he was smiling a bit now which made you flush, knowing he was finding the shift in your mood funny. “I think I need a little more practice right?”

“Yeah?” He was still standing close to you, body slightly leaned forward so he was hovering his face near yours and this time when his eyes dropped to your lips he didn’t retract, just watching you carefully as that familiar but unreadable look crept back up in his eyes.

You didn’t respond to him out loud, not fully trusting yourself to speak but you were nodding your head softly and staring up at him with big eyes, having half a mind to stop yourself from reaching your hand up to hold his arm but a surge of want was running through you considering the way he was looking at you.

It wasn’t like people didn’t already talk about the two of you, having to explain to almost everybody you’d ever met that you weren’t dating or anything remotely close to it and people still didn’t necessarily believe you when you said it so it wouldn’t be the end of the world to touch him here, even this close to each others faces. But you’d been trying to convince them all for years and you’d feel a bit stupid to be caught doing unfriendly things with him now, especially with how new it was to you.

You also needed to remind yourself that you weren’t doing this for fun and there was an end goal here with Sunghoon, a goal that might as well be forfeited the second you started making out with your close male friend at a party he was also attending.

Jay wasn’t making it easy to remember this small fact, clouding your head and sense of judgment the longer he stared down at you and the closer you subconsciously swayed towards his steady frame. Part of you felt like your brain had made a connection, something clicking after he’d touched you for the first time and crossed that line friends typically didn’t.

“Stop looking at me like you want to kiss me.” He was mumbling but he had a small smile on his face, lip curled up as he watched you with amusement and you were sure you frowned at his teasing.

“Why can’t we?” You shifted onto your tiptoes for a second before dropping back down, your nose just barely grazing his but enough for him to follow your face back down and press a quick kiss against you like he couldn’t help himself.

He was immediately pulling away however and you watched him as he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head softly in denial and glancing over his shoulder for a second like he was making sure nobody was watching the two of you. Your hand was coming up to rest near his ribs, bringing his attention back down to you and you could feel his heart beating under your palm.

“No one’s looking.” You were reasoning, half hurt he cared too much and half thrown off by the fact that you didn’t at all. He didn’t object when you were rocking forward to kiss against his jaw softly, sucking in a small breath when you were swiping your tongue along his warm skin.

“Let me take you home.” His voice was low on your ear and you could feel his hands sliding over your sides to hold your lower back, drifting dangerously low but he was rotating his body so he was hiding you behind him against the wall.

“Can’t be so romantic if we are practicing for the real thing.” You were smiling at him humorlessly but he didn’t seem to find it funny, tensing at the mention of your real sexual encounters being meaningless and futile. “You have to treat me like some random hookup.”

He was watching you for a second to try and see if you were serious before his eyes were drifting away again like he was thinking about something. Eventually, you stared at him as he found his way back to you and moved one of his hands so he could brush your hair back behind your ear and out of your face. “Yeah, you know I can’t do that.”

You didn’t respond to him immediately, faltering slightly at the sincerity in his voice but you didn’t have a chance to think about what he was implying before he was fully kissing you finally. You almost pushed him away to ask for clarification but you quickly forgot about the strange statement when he was slipping his tongue into your mouth, melting against the wall and pushing against him completely.

Kissing him standing up felt different for some reason, you could feel every part of his body flat against yours and the height difference was a lot more evident, making your head spin slightly.

He wasn’t taking it easy on you anymore like he had the last few times, deepening the kiss immediately until your head was completely tilted back and accepting anything he would give you. The feeling of his tongue against yours, mixed with the fact you were in public and able to be seen by anybody sober enough to take a closer look and see who he had against the wall, was sending a heat through your body and you arched closer to him.

His hands were lower than your back now, squeezing and groping you in a way that took your breath away and made your knees so weak you would’ve crumbled to the floor if it wasn’t for him holding you up.

“Jay.” You were panting out into his mouth and his grip tightened at the sound of your breathy voice saying his name, pulling back just enough to allow you to speak. “Need you to touch me, please.”

“Not here baby, we can’t.” He was quickly responding and shaking his head, his hair loosening up slightly and falling over his forehead at the movement. You hoped he didn’t notice the way you practically gasped at the pet name slipping from his mouth so casually, shifting against the wall at his hesitant rejection.

He was looking down at you with want in his eyes so you weren’t too put off by him trying to say you couldn’t, rubbing your hand against his chest and pushing closer again until his lips were touching yours. You didn’t kiss him, just letting him feel you there and you let out a sigh of relief when he was losing his resolve and surging forward to fully press his lips against yours again.

It was addicting to kiss him like this and your hands were twisting in his hair softly, keeping him moving tight against you and giving him no room to change his mind again. You could feel his hands on your body tugging you forward against his hips, your leg going up slightly closer to his waist so he could fully slot in between your legs and nearly suffocate you against the wall.

He wasn’t moving you away even when your hand was slipping back down past his ribs, cupping him through his pants and smiling softly into the kiss when he hissed softly and faltered in his own touching.

“Fuck.” He was mumbling the word into your mouth and you knew you had gotten him, kissing him again even though he wasn’t moving anymore and just recovering from the feeling of your hand on him. “I’m going to go get a cab, let’s go back home.”

This time you didn’t object, liking the way he phrased going back to his apartment to include you and he kissed you one more time before he was stepping away and heading outside to call down a ride. You waited for him against the wall, knowing he’d come back inside to get you once he managed to get one like he always did.

Your hand was coming up to touch your lips, catching your breath and smiling softly as you thought about him and how strange things have been since you asked him to help you out.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable strange at all outside of the way your heart kept fluttering every time he tucked your hair behind your ears and gave you a particularly affectionate look. Jay was always kind and gentle with you so it didn’t phase you that it extended to this type of activity, figuring that there was no other reason for him to be acting like that and trying to ignore the way that thought made your chest tighten.

“You okay?” Your head was picking up swiftly at the sound of a new voice next to you, panicked at the sudden arrival and then completely freezing when you realized who it was. “You look like you’re going to be sick.” Park Sunghoon was watching you curiously, not much concern on his face, despite acknowledging your strange expression, as he took a sip from his cup casually.

“No I-I’m fine.” You were rushing out quickly and moving your fingers away from your mouth, flattening your hair and looking away from him with slightly widened eyes.

“Was that your boyfriend?” He was asking suddenly but his tone was bored, looking from you then back to the crowd like he was only over here to pass time. You froze up at the realization he was referring to Jay, obviously having seen you pressed against the wall only a few minutes ago.

You weren’t sure what to say for a few seconds, knowing that if this was last week your heart would be pounding with excitement due to the fact Park Sunghoon was speaking to you willingly. Adding onto the fact that he had seen you with somebody, now having no reason to believe you were inexperienced if you were boldly making out in the middle of a crowded party.

“No he..” You were trailing off when you noticed Jay coming back inside now, eyes locked on where he had left you and a small smile creeping up on his face when he saw you, until his eyes traveled over to the boy standing next to you. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”

Sunghoon wasn’t saying anything else but you heard him hum softly in acknowledgment before falling silent again, the both of you just standing there as you watched Jay slowly pass back through the crowd and approach the corner you were standing in. He kept his distance for a second, like he was making sure he wasn’t interrupting anything serious before he was standing by your side and clearing his throat.

“Ready to go?” He was asking in a low tone but you could tell his mood had drastically flipped from when he had left, more hesitant and guarded now like he wasn’t sure you’d actually come with him.

To make matters worse, your eyes instinctively went over to Sunghoon to see his reaction and you didn’t miss your best friend unmistakably tensing from the corner of your drifting gaze.

“Hey man, I’m Sunghoon.” He was still smiling softly, either completely oblivious to the weird tension settling over the two of you or simply not caring at all, and you watched as his hand crossed over where you were standing to extend towards your friend. He wasn’t touching you but he was inadvertently covering your body with his and your eyes widened slightly at the sudden close proximity.

“I know.” Jay was simply responding and not saying anything else, not even glancing down towards the hand waiting for him to take and you heard the other boy laugh softly before he was retracting it.

“You go to school here?” He was asking and you couldn’t tell if he was genuinely trying to make conversation or if he was just attempting to figure out what your friends deal was. Either way you tensed up slightly at the mention of Jay attending your school, a sore spot for both of you considering he hadn’t been accepted and yet he still decided to move here with you so you didn’t have to separate.

“He works on campus.” You quickly interjected when you noticed the way Jay’s jaw clenched at the question, not answering him directly but giving him enough information to let him know why he might look familiar or know who Sunghoon was. “We have to get going now.”

Sunghoon was nodding softly but he was carrying a look of amusement that you couldn’t miss and you were positive Jay hadn’t either, most likely catching on to the building instigation the second he had stepped foot back inside.

“I’ll see you around then.” He was slipping out casually as the two of you started to turn to leave, grinning at you when you looked back over your shoulder and hesitantly nodded, hand raising in a small wave before you were feeling Jay’s hand on your back leading you out of the house.

He didn’t say anything as you made your way outside and he remained silent the entire ride back to his apartment, staring out the window and keeping his hands in his lap as he avoided looking at you. You were a bit confused on what exactly he was feeling but you knew for sure that something had shifted once he saw Sunghoon and you weren’t going back home for the same reason anymore.

You sighed softly when he quickly got out of the taxi, standing there with the door open until you had scooted across the leather seats and got out into the night air. He closed it softly after thanking the driver and followed behind you as you made your way up the stairs to his door, the air heavy and so tense you felt like you were suffocating on it.

“Are you not going to talk to me then because I can just head home.” You were remarking once you’d crossed into the apartment, watching him in silence as he took off his jacket and shoes and went to the kitchen to get a drink.

“Is that what you want to do?” He was retorting in a calm tone but you could tell from where you were standing that he was agitated, eyes glinting with irritation as he leaned forward slightly onto the counter but you couldn’t tell if he was upset with you or something else.

“I want to do what you want to do.” You stated plainly and he didn’t respond as you kicked off your shoes, walking past where he was in the kitchen to head towards his sleeping area.

He was watching you as you moved around, the apartment small with an open floor plan but it was homely and you were there often enough to have your own dedicated clothes drawer underneath his. You tried to ignore his gaze on you as you opened the top one instead, pulling out one of his hoodies and glancing at him for a second before you were reaching behind your back to try and unzip your dress.

You heard him sigh softly before he was setting his cup down on the counter, making his way over to you slowly and offering a hand down to you on the bed when you just stared at him in confusion. You let him take your hand in his and he pulled you up softly, turning you around and pushing your hair off your back before he was helping you by pulling the zipper slowly down your back.

Your breath was catching in your throat at the feeling of the fabric loosening around you, his knuckles brushing over your bare skin and his hands stopping just above the curve of your ass.

“We can’t do what I want to do.” You were attempting to turn around to face him at the sound of his soft voice next to your ear but he stopped you by holding tightly onto the middle of your arms.

“Why not?” A small whine had slipped into your voice as you asked the question, so accustomed to him letting you get your way and slightly frustrated that he was being so distant.

You knew it was crossing a line, something that had silently been there for probably longer than you even realized, and you knew you should probably be more hesitant about crossing it but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You’d always been more impulsive than Jay but you knew he had to somewhat feel it too, that strong pull towards each other that was now just multiplying every time he touched you.

It was especially overwhelming now, almost unbearable as he gently lowered the sleeves of your dress off your arms until the top was dangling around your middle. You were completely bare from the waist up now but you didn’t think he could even see you, keeping you in a vulnerable position as you stared forward at the wall.

His hands were brushing against your ribs and for a second you thought he wouldn’t even touch you until you felt him cupping over your chest and groping curiously. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling of his cold fingers against your warm skin, the rings on his finger brushing against your hardened nipple and you took a stuttered gasp when he squeezed harder.

Jay’s other hand was pressing into your stomach and making sure you were tucked closely against him, feeling him getting harder against you the longer he touched you.

“If it was up to me I’d bend you over right now, just like this.” His voice was low in your ear again and another gasp ran through you when he was slightly tilting you forward, keeping you standing with his arm wrapped around your middle. “I’d tear the rest of your dress off and I’d make sure you never thought about going to Park Sunghoon or any of those other frat assholes again.”

“Then just do it.” You were panting out to him and trying to press yourself closer, feeling your dress slowly slipping down more from the bundled up fabric dangling around your middle. “What’s stopping you?”

He didn’t respond for a while and eventually he stopped touching you, sighing softly and he breath fanned the back of your neck. His hands were soft again now and resting on your hips carefully like he was considering what to do next.

You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to fuck you, certainly not like this and you were half positive he wasn’t going to touch you at all. Still, he was better at telling you vulnerable things when you weren’t staring at him so you didn’t move from your position and let him stand there in contemplation.

You were still slightly disappointed and hurt when he was pulling the rest of your dress down your legs, helping you step out from the middle of it, and then reaching down to grab his hoodie you had picked from the drawer and softly pulling it over your head. He finally turned you around once you were covered up, the hoodie coming down just above the middle of your thighs and he moved your hair out from inside the collar.

“Kiss me at least.” You were suddenly saying and grabbing his hands to stop him from moving away from you. His eyes glistened with something but he was letting you place his hands back around you, your own arms snaking up and around his neck in a strangely domestic position.

He didn’t say anything but he fulfilled your request, kissing you softly and pulling you tighter against him.

It was impossible to pretend now that you weren’t changing your mind about the entire thing, no use trying to push how good this felt to the back of your mind. You immediately felt a wave of relief wash over you and you practically melted in his hold, familiar and comfortable in a way that nobody could ever replicate and you knew he had to be feeling something similar if he was this conflicted about having sex with you.

Jay was your rock in the sense he was calculated and careful in almost everything he did and you figured he would’ve had sex with you easily if he had decided there was no risk to your friendship in the aftermath. The risk was there and it was prominent especially now as you leaned into him again, fully accepting it despite his hesitance.

You were squealing softly when he was suddenly lifting you up against him, taking a few steps forward before dropping the both of you on his bed and you giggled into the kiss when he turned your bodies so you’d land on him and he could take the weight of the fall.

The two of you kissed like that for a while longer, almost on autopilot as you moved his mouth against yours and you licked into his mouth with now practiced accuracy. He was warm and familiar underneath you, the hard expanse of his body and muscles flexing and easily supporting you and your constant shifting and movements. You were slightly impressed at how well he contained himself, feeling yourself get worked up in only a few minutes and clinging to him desperately.

Eventually the kissing stopped but you stayed just like that, your entire weight on top of him and your head laying on his chest like you had a hundred times.

“Can you tell me why not now?” Your voice was quiet and hesitant as you asked him the question that was still on your mind, letting a little time pass before you were bringing it up again and feeling relieved when he didn’t immediately tense up.

“Why do you get upset when I talk to other girls?” He was responding instead, not answering you directly yet and you frowned softly even though he couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know I can’t explain it.” You mumbled into his chest and you shrugged the best you could in your position. You were swatting at his side when you heard him let out a small scoff of disbelief, his chest vibrating your face when he started to laugh lightly at your upset reaction. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m serious.”

You were being honest despite the vague answer, never really knowing how to explain the sick feeling that washed over you anytime Jay’s attention drifted to somebody else for too long. Your mom used to tell you that you were just used to always being the star of his show and couldn’t handle it when you were out into the background but you figured that you should know better by now, know that you would never be pushed aside for somebody else.

Maybe that was the issue, the two of you always prioritizing each other over actual relationship or even family at times. You’d had dates that would get awkward at the mention of your best friend and you’ve gotten your fair share of nasty glares from the few girls Jay had actually brought around you.

He let your weak answer slide and in return you didn’t push for an answer about why he wouldn’t just let himself go with you, not saying anything else and listening to his breathing level out as he fell asleep underneath you.

——

“A double date? What the hell does that even mean?” You were rushing to catch up with Yuna, eyebrows furrowed due to the news she had just dropped on you casually before continuing to make her way to the class she was late for. You were practically breaking out into a jog to match her long strides. “Why would Sunghoon tell you that and not me?”

“Did you give him your number?” She was quickly retorting and barely sparing you a glance before she was nodding. “Exactly.”

“So he wants to go on a date with me but with you and Jay too?” You were attempting to confirm what she had said but she was sighing softly like repeated it would be a hinderance, stopping in her fast walking to allow you to catch up as you panted softly. “Do you even like Jay?”

“Are you kidding me Y/N? No I don’t like your pseudo husband.” She was shaking her head and scrunching up her nose like the thought grossed her out, your face flushing slightly at the title she had given him as you pushed your messy hair out of your face.

“I don’t think he’d agree to that.” You were telling her and glancing to the side awkwardly, not really understanding the whole situation or the fact that Sunghoon had somehow managed to apparently be interested in you despite the extremely awkward interaction you’d had a few days ago.

“He already has.” She was retorting quickly before turning on her heel and beginning her speed walking again, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as you tried to process what she had said.

You called out to her to ask for clarification but she didn’t turn around and just waved a dismissive hand at you, eventually disappearing around a buildings corner and you could do nothing but sigh softly.

There was absolutely no way Jay had willingly agreed to hang out with Park Sunghoon, adding on the fact he’d be crashing your date and also having to go out with Yuna, who he’d expressed dislike towards multiple times despite your weak defense for her behavior towards you. Your head was swarming in confusion and you almost pulled your phone out to call him and demand answers when you remembered he was at work.

You frowned softly and started to walk again, heading to the other side of campus where his work building was and trying to understand what scenario would lead to him agreeing to come along and also why he hadn’t told you in advance.

The small entrance bell was ringing out loudly as you passed through the door and you tilted your head to try and see around the counter to check if he was there, smiling softly when he was popping his head up with a surprised look.

“Hey.” He was breathing out when he realized it was you, standing up swiftly and circling around the counter until he was standing in front of you. You tried to ignore how out of character it was that he was greeting you so softly, a hand coming up to cup your elbow gently and look down at you. “You alright? Did you lose your key again?”

You were shaking your head and staring up at him with a slight flush to your face. “No just wanted to come here instead of going home. I hope it’s okay, sorry I didn’t call.”

“Don’t say sorry.” He was quickly interjecting and you didn’t say anything after that, just nodding and glancing at the floor hesitantly. He seemed to take notice of your strange demeanor and you picked your head back up when you heard him sigh softly. “You ran into Yuna didn’t you…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You were saying instead of directly answering and he looked away from you at the sound of hurt in your voice, still keeping his hand on you despite it tensing.

He didn’t look at you again for a bit but you were almost glad he didn’t, already finding it hard enough to be upset with him when he was just trying to help you. You weren’t sure how to communicate that you didn’t necessarily want help with Sunghoon anymore, knowing he’d stop with the new closeness and routine that you’ve gotten used to other the last two weeks.

“This was the point right?” He was muttering but he seemed hesitant in saying it and a small scoff fell from your lips.

“Right.” You agreed but your tone was bitter and your face had pulled into a grimace, taking a few steps back so his touch fell off of your arms and you were closer to the door again. “Guess I’ll see you tonight then.”

——

Despite absolutely dreading the double date and having no expectations or positive feelings about how it would go, it still somehow managed to be off to a worst start than you could’ve imagined.

Sunghoon had been nearly an hour late to picking you up and hadn’t made any move to get out of his car to greet you, leaving you to wrap your cardigan closer around your shivering frame and round past his hood to his passenger side door. You still planted a smile on your face, trying your best to not make him uncomfortable or show your unenthusiastic mood, but you realized it was pointless considering he was on the phone the entire ride to the restaurant.

He’d greeted you with a half wave before he was cackling about something the person on the other side was saying, not caring as you crossed your arms and zoned out for the entirety of the drive.

You sat in the leather chair after you’d arrived to the restaurant you were meeting the other two at, waiting impatiently and glaring at him from the corner of your eye as he continued his loud conversation for another twenty minutes, parked outside and unmoving. Eventually he was glancing at you and letting out a sigh, announcing to the caller that he would have to call them back.

“Alright, let’s go I’m starving.” He was quickly saying before he was opening his door and leaving the vehicle, leaving you dumbfounded for a few seconds at his lack of manners before you were hopping out and jogging to catch up with him.

You were absolutely fuming by the time you’d gotten inside, not understanding why Sunghoon had bothered arranging this whole entire thing when he clearly wasn’t interested in you. You were used to be outspoken and blunt but you just felt embarrassed about the whole thing and couldn’t bring yourself to confront him while the others were waiting inside.

It got worse once you saw them sitting together although Jay was clearly in the same boat as you, arms crossed and staring blankly at the table in front of him as Yuna chatted animatedly and leaned closer to him to try and show him something on her phone screen.

Sunghoon cleared his throat when the two of you got closer and both of their gazes shot up in your direction, her face curling into a bright flirty smile at the sight of your date. Jay’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you but then they immediately flickered down to Sunghoon’s hand that was rudely placed on your lower back after he’d complained you were walking too slow.

It could’ve been going worse technically, you and Jay hadn’t spoken a word the entire night but your dates clearly didn’t care, talking to each other nonstop about school and parties they’d attended. The two clearly had a lot in common considering their popularity status and their apparent habit of having terrible manners.

You were sat directly next to Jay and you tried to ignore him for the most part, especially since he was wearing your favorite shirt of his and you could smell his heavy addicting cologne from a seat over.

It wasn’t going too well considering he had been continuously glaring in your direction since you sat down, unrelenting even when the waitress came by and he recited both of your orders with ease. You were fed up with his bad mood, especially since he was the one who had agreed to this entire ordeal, and he was jumping in his seat at the feeling of you sending a sharp kick towards his shin.

Yuna spared him a quick glance at his sudden movement but didn’t stop her rambles and you watched as Jay sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Yours was buzzing only a few seconds later and you glared at him before picking it up and unlocking it.

Jay : What the hell was that for?

Y/N : stop staring at me like that

You watched his face as he read it and you felt slightly flushed when his eyes were meeting yours for a second before going back down to his phone screen and hurriedly typing.

Jay : Stay still

He was putting the device back into his pocket before you had a chance to respond to him and ask what he was talking about, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you stared at him and waited for any type of explanation.

You quickly got it when you were feeling something touching your leg underneath the table, jumping slightly at the sudden contact before your wide eyes were meeting his and seeing the slight warning in them. You were reminded of him message to stay still and you planted yourself firmly despite the urge to squirm at the feeling of his hand gently rubbing your bare knee.

“So Y/N, are you working anywhere right now then?” Sunghoon was suddenly asking you and you liked him a lot less than you already did considering he decided to finally speak to you at the worst possible time.

You cleared your throat softly before shifting in your seat to sit up more, accidentally causing Jay’s hand to move further on your leg until it was gently moving your dress up and resting on your thigh. You expected him to move it back down but he kept it firmly there, squeezing your skin softly as he waited for you to answer.

“Um.. n-no not right now I’m just… going to school.” You were trailing off softly after awkwardly squeezing the sentence out and the table was silent as they looked at your flushed face.

“She doesn’t need to anyways.” Yuna was quickly adding and her mouth was curled into a half sneer, playing with her half finished food as she met your eyes for a split second before continuing. “Jay pays for basically everything for her.”

An awkwardness settled over the table at her extremely bitter tone and you saw Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise in interest, that same amused expression he had at the party returning. Jay’s hand was tightening on your thigh harshly and you made a small noise of surprise before quickly pretending to choke and take a drink of your water.

He didn’t seem to notice he had done it and he immediately was releasing the tight hold and rubbing the skin gently as a silent apology, shifting in his seat when you were swinging your foot to kick at his leg again.

“So you two met on campus then?” Sunghoon was continuing to ask questions despite the fact you were obviously uncomfortable and Jay was glaring daggers in his direction.

“Um no.. we’ve been friends since we were little actually.” You were explaining in a soft voice and another flash of interest with through the boys eyes, glancing between the two of you with a weird excitement printed on his face.

“And you never got together?” He was blurting out, clearly not caring about how blunt and overly personal the question was considering you’d barely spoken outside of small talk in passing. Your mouth was parting in surprise and you glanced over at your friend who was as looking more and more angry as the seconds passed.

“That’s none of your business.” Jay was spitting out and his tone was low and harsh, much different than the one he normally had with you.

Sunghoon didn’t seem deterred at all although even Yuna had finally fallen silent, watching the interaction with a careful expression. “She is my date isn’t she?”

You heard your best friend scoff harshly but he didn’t immediately say anything, glancing over at you like he expected you to interject and when you looked over at him with wide eyes and a continuously parting mouth, his features hardened when he realized you weren’t going to say anything. You didn’t do anything but sit there and search for words as he pushed his chair back and stood up, leaving your skin that was warmed under his hand with a sudden chill.

Sunghoon was laughing softly as Jay left the restaurant and you turned to glare at him in disbelief, not understanding his motive but quickly realizing that he was super amused by the two of you and your confusing dynamic.

It wasn’t hard to understand that he didn’t have feelings for you and only invited you on this date for some entertainment, most likely catching interest at the party when you had awkwardly left with Jay. Your mouth was turning down into a frown and you followed his actions of standing up from your chair, flattening down your dress before turning and following after him.

He was halfway through the parking lot by the time you managed to catch up with him, running the best you could in your uncomfortable heels but thankfully he was slowing down when he heard them clicking on the cement. His back was tensed since he knew it was you but you were still grateful he had stopped for you.

“Where are you going?” Your voice was soft and weak, not necessarily voicing the question you wanted to ask but you just felt the need to say something to fill the silence.

“I can’t do this anymore Y/N.” He was turning around as he spoke and he sounded genuinely tired, staring down at you with hooded eyes and a hurt expression on his face. You watched him with confusion and he sighed softly before tossing a hand up in frustration. “I can’t be around you pretending like this, it’s killing me.”

“We don’t have to do it anymore then.” You were quickly telling him although it hurt you to say and you were taking a step closer to try and reassure him, stiffening up when he was automatically backing away from you.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He was saying and he sounded certain but you were confused on what he meant, eyebrows furrowing which only seemed to upset him further. “This isn’t the pretending Y/N, being with you like we’ve been doing for the last few weeks. That isn’t the hard part, how can’t you get that?”

You were slightly understanding what he was implying now but it made no sense to you, a sick feeling washing over you at the fact he was seemingly saying he had been feeling the same way you had been. He was sighing again at your lack of a response but he didn’t say anything, looking to the side where his car was parked before he was glancing at you again.

“How would I get that?” You were countering with more force than you meant to let into your tone, slightly frustrated that he was placing blame solely on you for not realizing his feelings about this whole situation.

“Are you kidding me?” He was laughing but it was completely humorless and angry. Not necessarily at you but definitely at the situation the two of you had gotten yourself into. “I moved down here to be with you dude. I work a shitty job on the campus of a school I was too fucking dumb to get into, stuck in a tiny apartment with neighbors who have no volume control.”

He was moving his hands around a lot as he spoke, clearly upset and releasing thoughts he’d been keeping bottled up for longer than you realized. Your eyes were stinging with tears as you listened to him rant, bringing up the fact you hadn’t gotten into the same school, something you knew had been bugging him for some time.

You never thought less of him for not getting accepted and you had hoped he didn’t either, not ever wanting to talk about it after he decided to just not apply anywhere else. You figured he had come with you so you wouldn’t be lonely but your heart cracked a little at the implication he had solely came with because it was him that didn’t want to be without you for a long time.

Your nose scrunched up at the negative way he talked about his apartment, the disgust in his voice directed towards the same place that brought you the most comfort in the world.

It was definitely small and you’d spend countless nights banging on the walls to try and get the next door neighbors to quiet down but it was always a happy memory for you, giggling with him as you laid flat on your backs and kicked against the drywall repeatedly. You thought about waking up in his small bed together, tugging the blankets more over yourself and listening to his soft grunts of complaints.

Teaching you to cook and not getting upset when you continuously burnt eggs, smiling at you when he’d get home from a long shift and you’d already be there cleaning up the dishes and counters. It was your favorite place to be and he was your favorite person to see and your heart broke thinking that he’d been having a hard time.

“You still don’t get it.” He was shaking his head and pulling you out of your thoughts, figure slightly wavy through your teary eyes and you took another step closer.

“I think I do Jay but how can I if you’ve never said it.” You were telling him softly but your voice was cracking around the words, at least relieved he wasn’t backing up from your approaching frame anymore considering that would’ve caused you to break down.

“How could I say something like that?” He was asking sincerely and he looked down at you finally, holding your gaze and giving you a tiny sad smile. His eyes were wet too and you briefly thought about the fact you hadn’t seen him cry in a very long time.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then you were gently reaching out to him, feeling a wave of relief when he allowed you to hold onto his arm softly and squeeze it. He let out a small shaky breath at the feeling of you touching him and it gave you the drive you needed to be able to say what you were thinking about so heavily for so long.

“You asked me why I don’t like it when you talk to other girls and I said I don’t know, but I do know and I have known for a long time.” You were watching him intensely as you spoke clearly, a faux confidence in your voice that didn’t match the way your heart was beating painfully in your chest. “I don’t really know when I knew or if I maybe just realized when you kissed me.”

His eyes were flashing with something and you laughed softly as nerves overwhelmed you, pausing in your rambles and you were sure he could feel the way your hands were shaking against him because he was placing one of his over yours that were gripping onto his arm, softly rubbing them and giving you just enough strength to push through the hardest part.

“I’m inlove with you Jay and I want you around me for a long time. I need you around me I think and it’s scary but I’d spend the rest of our lives in that tiny little apartment.” You were finishing off as a small sob broke through you but you kept a smile on your face, watching him and shaking your head softly.

He wasn’t saying anything at first and you were feeling a sudden sense of dread, not really thinking about what would happen if he didn’t feel the same way about you and you had gotten it all wrong.

You weren’t able to hold that doubt for long considering he was moving his hand off of yours suddenly to cup your face, pulling you in for a kiss before you were even able to register his movements. You were gasping against him and then immediately turning to putty in his hold, a wave of warmth and reassurance washing over you despite the fact he hadn’t said it yet back.

It wasn’t something he necessarily needed to voice considering he’d spent your entire lives showing it and taking care of you more than anybody ever had, constantly being so gentle and reliable even when you weren’t always the easiest person to handle.

You still felt better when he was pulling out of the kiss to look down at you, still holding onto your face as you both laughed softly in disbelief and relief. He was leaning forward to place his forehead against yours and you were clutching onto his arms desperately despite knowing he’d never go anywhere if you let him go.

“I think I’ve loved you since I met you.” He was saying it in one breath and you immediately noticed the way his shoulders lost all tension in relief, speaking the words that had been running through his mind on loop every time you smiled at him or wrapped your arms casually around him in a hug.

You had no real way of knowing how insane you constantly made him feel, always being the most beautiful person in the room and never giving him the slightest chance of caring about anybody else. You’d constantly complain to him that he needed a better social life for a chance at romance and his heart would turn uncomfortably at the thought of being with anybody but you.

Nobody set his skin on fire like your touches did and the two of you moved perfectly in sync together, easily bantering and moving around each other in a gentle dance that only came with time and understanding.

You were his better half and he’d always casually introduced you as that, laughing softly as you would hit his arm and scold him for trying to flatter you while not having the slightest idea that he meant every single word of it.

“Take me home then?” You were whispering out finally, forehead still against his and feeling the way his thumbs came up instinctively to wipe the tears off your red cheeks.

He was smiling and nodding at you, no hesitance in accepting whatever request you made to him, the same thing that had gotten you into this situation in the first place. He’d immediately regretted it when he first finally kissed you because he’d realized he’d never be able to go without you that close again, feeling sick every time he remembered it wasn’t real for you.

The worry and disbelief that had been building up was finally crumbling down for both of you as you stood there holding each other for a bit longer, eventually taking your hand in his as he lead you to his car and took you back to your home.

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