#server-side processing

[phoebeprufrock]

So I’ve been in the process of moving towards self-employment (it’s. definitely A Process) and one of the things I struggle with the most is social media. Just — the thought of having to put what I do Out There™️ and having people see it, and it being good enough for people to see is fucking horrible. And I have other self employed friends who agree that it’s awful but they all go “you just have to Do It” and no offense but its easy for them to say when they’re like, therapists and personal trainers and accountants. They are marketing their skills, they’re not posting their fucking SOUL trapped in a Pokémon cross stitched sweatshirt that took forty fucking hours to make and getting two likes on it. And how much fucking content can you even get out of your work when it all takes SO FUCKING LONG and you’re shit at taking pictures and you need to ask people to hire you as a teacher or commission your stuff.

Anyway. I’ve been journaling a lot about it because it’s genuinely been stressing me out so much. And then I just thought, you know what — fuck it. I’ll just post that. Talk about crafting as a practice, fixing clothes as a revolutionary act, getting from the language in your head to something in your hands…. I want to teach people that when I teach them how to make something, so why wouldn’t I talk about it? Talk about community, about the importance of crafting as a communal act, crafting as a process.

I mean, people have appreciated my writing before, is it so crazy to think it might give context to my crafting? Sometimes it feels like I’m asking for absolution with my crafting, confessing the monumental fucking hubris it took to even consider that I could be worthy of having something I made exist in the world. So maybe writing about is a bit of that.

And maybe people won’t be into that but realistically if I have to bow down to King Content it might as well be by doing something I believe in. I’d rather fail and have something I believe in rather than never start because I refuse to participate in the endless production of social media slob to appease The Algorithm.

Idk, we’ll see

[chanelrolls]

Code Overload | Caleb

tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb

summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.

part 2 here.

Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.

The lab’s sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penis— no, his omnimodule.

His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."

Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.

Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ‘non-essential’ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.

There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyes—scenarios meticulously calculated for maximum… gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.

“I can’t disengage it,” he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.

That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skin—previously a neutral data point—was now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...

No. Focus.

Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."

He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.

“I must have triggered something in the update,” you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. ��I’ll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.”

Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.

He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasn’t a command—

Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.

His voice came out strained. “You should… hurry.”

You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. “Relax, Caleb. I’ll have this fixed in no time.” He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Caleb’s core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.

Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.

You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. “Do I make you nervous now?”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “No, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?”

His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. “Normal?” He moved closer again, and this time you didn’t retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.

Caleb’s processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed before—angles of how he'd fuck you.

His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didn’t.

“Caleb,” you warned, voice thin. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyes—once so neutral, so methodical—locked onto you like a predator studying prey.

“You should go into standby mode,” you suggested, voice uneven.

Caleb exhaled sharply. “That would be wise.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.

You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.

You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.

It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.

You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.

“There’s… a temporary fix.” You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, “Manual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.”

His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, “Proceed.”

You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.

Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You weren’t looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.

“This should only take a moment,” you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.

Caleb’s entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. “Did that hurt?”

His eyes met yours, “No.” Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.

The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.

Right into him.

Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.

Don't. Do. It.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.

Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'm—i'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.

"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."

But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself back—it was exhilaratingly overwhelming.

Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.

But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed to—

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.

"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadn’t expected to see.

The panel displayed a single line of text:

"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."

Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?

"… I think I found a solution,” you said, your voice shaky and unsure. “But it’s not exactly what I expected.” You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if you’re... willing to follow through with it,"

"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?

"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."

Silence.

Then, Caleb twitched. "...What are you suggesting?"

"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"

Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.

But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.

Choose. You have to choose.

"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"

Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.

Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."

You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "I advise you to do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensure—"

You gasped.

Caleb pushes you against the table as he stepped forward, and you nearly lost your balance from the light shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing cyber-penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."

Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.

"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."

God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.

Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.

But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.

Caleb needed more.

"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"

You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...

No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.

For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.

Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.

"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."

He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.

"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."

You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke on his cock. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."

Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."

You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.

Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.

You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse, bobbing your head into it when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.

The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."

Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you back— mmph!"

Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself now. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.

"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."

Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him already? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?

Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay. Just stay focused. Stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to his normal self.

"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."

But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.

You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hits the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenly—"

But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips after ripping your pants off in one go. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping pussy with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching, mechanical cock.

He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.

Then, again.

And again.

And... in again.

"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.

Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.

He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes..." Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.

He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.

You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

[to-the-stars8]

Jason’s trying to make an effort to work his way back into normal society. It’s a process he’s not familiar with, but finds a way through a small, part-time job at a restaurant being a bus-boy. No one looks at the busboy, so he can slip by some of the richest and most corrupt in Gotham without anyone sparing him a passing glance.

He makes acquaintances with some of the chefs and servers, either sharing a joint or throwing quips back and forth with them. Then, there’s you. You’re kind to him, always thanking him for clearing your section first, gifting him some sweets every so often, and even tipping him out the most out of all the servers.

You’re leaning against the frame of the back door for a brief reprieve from the late dinner rush, as Jason sits on the steps smoking a cigarette. The two of you are watching a rat pull a large discarded bag of potato skins down the alley way, slightly impressed by its strength.

“Holy shit, that’s a fat fuckin’ rat,” Jason mumbled as he took a drag off his cigarette.

You slightly nudged his back with your foot. “Don’t body shame the rat.”

Jason chuckled before throwing the bud down and stomping on it. When he stood, he towered over you and he kind of liked it. “How’s it out there?”

You sighed as you stepped to the side to let him in. “Fine now. But, if John tells me to roll some more silverware or cut lemons one more time I’m chucking myself off the roof of this building.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Jason said as he took a step towards you. “Go out on a date with me and I’ll do all your side work for the rest of the night.”

“That’s bribery.”

“No, it’s a good deal.”

“You’re cockey, but,” you said, trying to bite back your smile. “I’ll go out with you anyway. You’re handsome enough that I can over look it.”

“Fantastic.”

You shuffled past him before you took off toward the swinging doors with a grin. Jason watched you before he picked up his tub to start cleaning the tables in your section.

[ridher]

rafe cameron & jealousy when another guy shows interest in his shy country club waitress

just as expected, he pulls up to the club around late afternoon. it's a warm summer day in the outer banks with a cool breeze flowing from the beach into the building where you're padding around, wiping up the tables of wealthy patrons.

he had no plan of messing around on the golf course, instead heading straight inside the lobby to see his favorite girl. it was odd how he practically craved to see you, but once he'd broken down those heavily guarded walls, the two of you could talk away your whole shift.

it was a slow process, but he enjoyed having to work for your attention — no matter how often it tested his patience.

so when he saunters into the bar and sees some douche greedily taking in the shy girl across the counter, he's seeing red. an overreaction? maybe. that doesn't stop him from collecting himself and heading overall passive-aggressively.

rafe claps a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder, turning to face him with an all but friendly smile. meanwhile, you've just finished up his drink, tentatively sliding it across the dividing surface and glancing between the boys in front of her.

taking it into his own hands, rafe shoots you a wink and takes the glass, all but shoving it into the guy's grasp and shooing him off. begrudgingly, he complies — because nobody wants to be on the wrong side of any cameron.

you're left a bit stunned staring up at the boy you know with a flushed face and big eyes, in awe.

"you didn't have to do all that." your eyes follow him as he takes his usual seat, shrugging with a smug grin.

"yeah, i know, baby. gimme a, uh.. y'know the usual." unable to hold back a smile, you nod and get to it. a content feeling washes over you knowing someone on this god-awful island has your back — even if he's now the one unabashedly eyeing up your body when you bend over to scoop some ice.

but it's rafe, he'd never harm his sweet little server, the girl of few words who is silent for the rest of the town. he takes pride in the understanding nobody knows you the way he does.

he'll walk you out after closing later that day — yet to accept his constant offers of giving you a ride home.

standing outside the club, you hesitate before leaning up on your toes and pressing a soft kiss of gratitude to his cheek, all but whispering a soft 'bye, rafe' and turning on your heels to walk off, immediately thinking over your choice and adjusting your work bag on your shoulder with a sigh.

he's left staring after you with the cockiest smirk he could sport, getting one last eyeful before retreating to his truck, finally feeling successful in his patient approach with you.

[genshinluvr]

Love Me, Touch Me, Eat Me

Pairings: Various Love&Deepspace Men x reader (Caleb x reader, Rafayel x reader, Zayne x reader, Sylus x reader, Xavier x reader— separate)

Summary: You love him, and he loves you. You love the way he makes you feel, how he shows his love for you. You love the little things he does for you, and he loves every little thing about you. You also love how he buries his cock deep inside you— almost as much as he loves the feeling of your gummy walls around him.

Note: Wowie, my first Love&Deepspace smut! I was heavily debating if I wanted the LADS men to run a train on reader or if I should just make it into a separate smut where each man gets their smut portion. I had the spinning wheel choose the fic style and the order in which they were. Due to the contents in this fanfic, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! If anyone is interested in joining, my Discord server is currently open. If you're interested in joining a small community of people who play LADS alongside Hoyoverse games, I'll provide the server link at the end of this fic. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut, PiV sex, mirror sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, doggy style, cowgirl, bath sex, vaginal fingering, double penetration, anal sex, Rafayel has two cocks, slight exhibitionism, missionary, mating press.

Word Count: 6.5k

Sometimes, words aren’t enough to express how much you love each other. You love how he makes you feel, how much he cares about you, and how he shows his love and care for you. Whenever you return from a long and tiring mission, he’s the first one to greet you when you return to Linkon City. When it’s raining and you forgot to bring an umbrella, he has an umbrella ready to go, shielding you from the raindrops. 

Whenever it’s his birthday, you make sure to go all out for him. You make sure to invite all of his close friends and colleagues to the birthday party before straying away from the party to spend some alone time with him. The way he gazes at you with love and gratitude, wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, whispering “happy birthday” into his ears, kissing his cheeks.

Every time you return from a solo mission, the first thing he does (aside from twirling you around in his arms and kissing your lips) is to check for any injury on your body. No matter how small the injury, he’s hovering around you, making sure you’re okay. The one time when you sustained a near-fatal injury almost sent him into a frenzy. When you regained your consciousness, he was by your side, holding your hands and making sure you were comfortable. You reach up and rub his furrowing eyebrows, watching the creases slowly smooth over before he lets out a relieved sigh, burying his face into your neck.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, tightening his arms around you while making sure not to hurt you in the process.

You kiss the crown of his head, running your hands through his hair. “Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you joke, resting your chin on his head.

The fear of losing you is greater than anything he can imagine. He would rather lose everything than lose you.

You are absolutely obsessed with him, and he’s obsessed with you. Probably more than you are with him, but who’s keeping track? He loves the feeling of your soft and gentle touch against his skin, the way you run your fingers through his hair, and the way your hand is much smaller compared to his. 

There are times when you would initiate a play fight with him, just to see something. You wanted to see if you could dominate someone as big as he is, and you’re certain you can very much do that. Sometimes he lets you win so that he can see the adorably huge smile plastered on your face while you loudly cheer and declare victory.

You stand over him, both hands propped on your hips with your chest puffed out. “I’m the winner! I am officially stronger than you!” You said, poking the tip of his nose.

He grabs you by the wrist, leaning on the couch with a lazy smile. “Yeah, you got me. How should I reward the winner, hm?” 

You contemplate, looking away from your prey. With you distracted, he takes that opportunity to pull you forward. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you stumble forward, falling on top of him. You look down at him, playfully glaring at him while he smirks up at you. Before you open your mouth to say something, he flips you over onto your back, pinning you to the couch with your arms above your head. His large hands easily cover your much smaller ones. 

You glare up at him, blowing the strands of hair away from your face. “That’s not fair! I was distracted!”

He lightly boops your nose with a teasing grin. “Tsk, tsk. Never take your eyes away from the enemy.”

You continue to glare at him, staring holes into his skull. The man above you laughs, leaning down, his face mere inches away from yours. You gulp, the glare you once had on your face quickly melts into something more… meek. It’s cute, really— seeing a kitten retract her claws when a much bigger predator comes into light. 

- Caleb: - 

Caleb loves eating you out, and when he does it, he makes sure you enjoy it as much as he does. He loves feeling you squirm underneath him, legs pinned against your chest while he buries his face into your dripping cunt. The sounds you make while he licks and slurps your juices drive him insane.

Your fingers are tangled in his soft, black hair, biting down on your lips to keep the noises to a minimum. “Fuck, Caleb~” you whine, thighs feeling sore due to having it pinned against your chest for who knows how long now. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”

The thought of you cumming in his mouth for the third time motivates him to continue what he’s doing. Your back arches as you feel the familiar feeling in your lower abdomen. It’s like a knot that is getting tighter and tighter as you approach your orgasm. Only this time, it’s different because you feel overstimulated.

“Caleb, I’m going to cum!” You whine, grip tightening on his hair.

Caleb releases your left leg and begins to pinch and roll your clit, occasionally tugging on your engorged bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves throughout your trembling body. You let out a choked moan, tensing underneath Caleb when your orgasm hits you like a train. When you go completely limp on your bed, Caleb proceeds to slurp up your juices while occasionally taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on them.

You lightly push his shoulder. “You’re going to overstimulate me even more,” you whine, squinting at Caleb.

Caleb laughs, pressing a kiss on the side of your thigh before kneeling. “Oh? I thought you liked being overstimulated. Last time I checked, you challenged me to see how many times I can get you to cum—”

“I know, but not just by eating me out, you panty sniffer!” You whine.

Caleb stares at you, mouth agape. Wait, did he hear you correctly? You and Caleb stare at each other in silence. Caleb scoffs, shaking his head while poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. There’s no way in hell you know about him sniffing your panties while you’re away and he’s doing your laundry. Caleb pretends not to hear what you call him before flipping you over on your stomach.

Caleb chuckles, shaking his head as he adjusts you to get on your elbows and knees. “You really like pushing my buttons, don’t you, pipsqueak?” Caleb asks, smacking your ass.

You yelp in surprise and look at Caleb over your shoulder. “Yeah, and what about it? You love it.” You stick your tongue out at Caleb.

You don’t hear a response from Caleb. Instead, you feel something warm and hard brushing up against your thighs. You unintentionally shudder at the feeling while Caleb parts your legs. You face the bedframe, mentally prepping for what’s to come.

Caleb grabs his hard cock, strokes it a few times before pressing it against your sopping wet heat. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut when you feel Caleb slowly sink his cock into your dripping cunt. You grasp onto the bedsheets, clenching your jaws when the stretch continues as Caleb sinks further into you.

“Fuck,” you and Caleb gasp.

Caleb slowly leans forward, covering your body with his, and pressing his chest against your back. He wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face into your neck when every inch of him is inside you. Caleb gives you time to adjust to his size, feeling you tremble in his arms and your gummy wall pulsing around his dick.

Caleb lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re squeezing me really hard, there, pipsqueak.”

“You’re balls deep inside me, and you’re calling me pipsqueak?” You whimper, trying to adjust to the size of Caleb’s cock.

Caleb unwraps his arm around your waist before grabbing onto your right leg, folding it to your chest before slowly pulling his cock out of you. Caleb doesn’t completely pull his cock out of your warm entrance, he leaves only the tip inside for about thirty seconds before slamming back into you. You cry out, your walls squeezing his member.

Caleb continues to hover over you while thrusting into your squelching cunt. Caleb’s trying so hard to hold back from fucking you into the mattress. The sound of skin-to-skin contact fills the once-quiet air, along with the sounds of your gasps, moans, and whimpers. Both his hands make their way to your waist, grabbing your waist with an iron grip.

“You’re so tight,” Caleb mutters through clenched teeth.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when the tip of Caleb’s cock hits your g-spot, making you shudder and gasp. Caleb sends one hard thrust into your cunt, causing both your arms to give out from underneath you.

“Ha~ sorry, pipsqueak. I couldn’t help myself,” Caleb pants, now lying on top of you.

Before you can retort, Caleb quickens his thrusts into your dripping cunt. You dig your nails into Caleb’s arms, squealing when the mushroom tip of his cock repeatedly batters your cervix. You feel Caleb wrap his hand around your neck, pulling you up against his chest while he continuously thrusts into you.

Caleb’s chest heaves with every breath. “You like that, don’t you? You were begging for it, and now that I’m giving you what you want, are you satisfied?” Caleb whispers into your ears.

You bite down on your lips, drawing blood. “Mmhm! I… I…” You trail off, your eyes nearly crossing when he hits the same spot with his cock.

Caleb snickers, burying his face into your neck before licking a stripe up your neck. “That’s not an answer, [Y/N]. Use your words.” Caleb coos.

“Fuck! Yes! Yes, I like it, Caleb!” You wail, writhing in his arms as he continues to pistons his thick cock into your abused hole. 

There’s no way in hell you’ll last another hour. Caleb made you cum twice already and you’re feeling overstimulated, your cunt feels raw and sore with how hard and fast Caleb’s thrusting into you. Satisfied with your answer, Caleb bites down on your neck and continues plowing into you with no remorse, chasing his impending orgasm that’s rapidly approaching.

- Xavier: -

“Xavier, what if someone walks by and sees us?” You whimper, tightening your legs and arms around his waist and neck.

Xavier ignores your question as he continues to pounds his cock deep inside you. You arch against Xavier’s chest, body tingling with each thrust. Both you and Xavier are still mostly dressed— you’re wearing a sheer white dress, your panties discarded to the side, on the ground in your apartment. Xavier’s gray slacks are unzipped and pulled down to his mid-thigh; his white button-up shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his bare chest, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Xavier thrusts up into your cunt, making you gasp out loud and tug on his damp hair. 

“Oh, fuck! Xavier~!” You moan, head falling onto his shoulder.

All you can hear is Xavier’s panting, and soft grunts as he spears you onto his cock repeatedly. His grip around your waist tightens, his knuckles turning white. Xavier stops thrusting into you momentarily, carrying you away from the window, much to your relief. Your cunt involuntarily clenches around his thick cock, sending tingles throughout Xavier’s body.

Much to your dismay, Xavier unsheathes his member from your sweltering hole and tosses you onto your couch. You bounce and prop yourself up on your elbows, chest heaving up and down with every breath you take.

You watch Xavier toss his shirt haphazardly somewhere in your living room before pulling both his boxers and slacks down to his ankles. You gulp, can’t help but be mesmerized by how his cock bounces over slight movement. When Xavier completely strips himself bare, he looks at you through his thick lashes, locking eyes with you.

Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, making you look away shyly. Xavier walks over to the edge of the couch, grabs your ankle, and yanks you towards the edge of the couch. You squeal and stare up at Xavier with wide eyes, feeling yourself clench around nothing. God, you love it when Xavier manhandles you around like a ragdoll.

“You’re still dressed,” Xavier comments, eyeing the white slip dress you’re still wearing.

You clear your throat, tucking your unruly hair behind your ears. “Was I supposed to take the dress off?” You feign ignorance, pressing your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from grinning from ear to ear.

Xavier hums, sliding his hand up your thigh and close to your swollen, wet cunt. “Do you, perhaps, need help with taking it off?” Xavier asks innocently, his blue eyes flickering to your face, waiting for your response.

He’s staring at you with those puppy-dog eyes of his. Those damn eyes, he knows what he’s doing. Xavier can easily manipulate you into thinking he’s harmless, only for him to do irreparable damage to your insides. And you let him do it every time he wants to, because how can you not?

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “It’s a little hard to take off, if I’m being honest. Can you help me take it off—” 

You’re cut off by Xavier grabbing the end of the white slip dress, yanking it over your head. You’re now bare naked on your couch, legs spread wide open for Xavier. Xavier tosses the dress over his shoulders before crawling on top of you. You lie down on the couch, staring up at Xavier as he situates himself over you. Xavier gently brushes your hair with his fingers and kisses your forehead. You do the same with Xavier, smiling up at your beloved.

He leans down, close to your ears, asking, “Are you ready? Can I continue where I left off?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. You can continue,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around Xavier’s shoulders and kissing his jawline.

Xavier kisses the side of your head. “Good,” he murmurs, grabbing the base of his cock and lines it up in front of your entrance.

You and Xavier gaze into each other's eyes. Xavier pumps his cock, lightly tapping the bulbous tip of his cock on your cunt, coating his cock with your juices. Your heart races against your chest, anticipating Xavier’s cock breaching your entrance. Xavier slowly slides the tip of his member into your entrance, earning a soft gasp from you.

Even though Xavier was ravaging your insides not even ten minutes ago, the feeling of Xavier’s thick cock breaching your entrance again continues to feel foreign to you. Xavier’s eyes roll to the back of his head the more he sinks his cock further into your gummy entrance. Halfway into sinking his cock into you, Xavier suddenly slams the rest of his member into you, earning a choked gasp from you.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Xavier mutters, burying his face into your neck.

You tighten your arms around Xavier’s neck, wrap one leg around his waist, and press him up against you. You dig your nails into his back, letting out a hiss when he slowly pulls out before plunging his cock back into your squelching hole. Xavier gulps and slowly moves his face down to where your boobs are before latching his lips onto your nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue over your perky nipples.

The pace of Xavier’s thrusts gradually becomes faster. You’re whimpering beneath him, clenching from the intrusion, sopping wet from previous activities, tits bouncing with each thrusts. You swear to the gods that the more Xavier plunges his member into you, your walls will remember every vein and ridges on his cock.

Xavier releases your nipple with a wet pop, crashing his lips onto yours, and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into Xavier’s hair, lightly tugging on his soft hair. Xavier moans and whimpers into your mouth when your gummy walls squeezes his cock. You break the kiss, crying out in ecstasy when the tip of his dick punches your cervix.

At this point, you and Xavier have been going at it like rabbits. Xavier tosses your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half. The new position triggers something in you, forming a tight knot in your lower abdomen as Xavier continues hammering his cock into you. You don’t think you can last much longer, and knowing Xavier, he can last way longer than you can. If he has to make you cum more than five times just to be able to chase his release, then that is what he will do.

- Rafayel: -

You and Rafayel sit in his bathtub, your back is pressing up against his chest. The water in the bathtub reaches up to your chest. Both you and Rafayel returned from Rafayel’s art exhibit not too long ago and have decided to take a bubble bath as a way to end the night. Just when you thought it was going to be a relaxing bubble bath with your boyfriend, you’re wrong. As always. What did you really expect?

You lay your head on Rafayel’s shoulders, a soft gasp escaping your lips when Rafayel inserts his index and middle finger into your entrance. “Rafayel~! You said we were going to have a relaxing bubble bath,” you whine, heat rushing to your cheeks.

Rafayel plants kisses up your neck, hiding his smug smile. “What do you mean, cutie? This is relaxing, no?” Rafayel asks nonchalantly, pulling his fingers out of your cunt before plunging them back in, earning a choked moan from you. Rafayel’s no music critic, but the sounds you’re making are nothing but music to his ears. 

You bite your lips, grabbing onto his arms beneath the bubbly water. “I should’ve seen this coming. Every time we take a bath together, you’re either knuckles deep inside me, or you’re balls deep inside me,” you mutter, cracking your eyes open to look at him.

The tips of Rafayel’s ears and the apples of his cheeks are bright red. You can’t tell if it’s from arousal or embarrassment. Rafayel doesn’t respond to you and proceeds to part your legs open with his unoccupied hand, raising your right leg and placing it on the edge of his bathtub. Rafayel continues to thrust his fingers into your cunt, his thumb pressing down and rubbing your throbbing, engorged clit, sending shockwaves throughout your body. 

You gasp, nails digging into his arms. “Fuck, Rafayel.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as Rafayel increases his pace.

“Gods, do you know what you’re doing to me?” Rafayel pants, closing his eyes and sucking on your neck, leaving hickies behind.

You’re so occupied by the feeling of Rafayel fingering you that you almost failed to notice his cocks becoming erect at the sounds of your moans and the mere thought of ravaging your insides. You reach behind your back, grabbing onto one of his cocks and start pumping it. Rafayel unlatches his mouth from your neck and hisses, burying his face into your collarbone, now knuckles deep inside your pussy.

You slowly stroke Rafayel’s cock, squeezing and rubbing the head of his member. Rafayel hisses, nearly whimpering when you gently rub the tip. His reaction makes you pause, worried that you might’ve done something to elicit that reaction from him. Rafayel grabs your hand and continues to have you stroke his member, shaking his head, the flush on the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears redder than ever.

“I’m fine, cutie. Don’t stop now,” Rafayel pleads, giving you the puppy-dog eyes.

You gaze at Rafayel, his eyes glazed over with pleasure and need. To Rafayel’s dismay, you release his cock before cupping his face in your hands. Rafayel closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his lips against yours, practically devouring your lips. Rafayel takes his fingers out of your cunt, grabbing you by the waist before pulling you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, now straddling his waist.

Rafayel grabs his cock, lining it up in front of your throbbing pussy. He slowly lowers you onto his cock, breaching your entrance, his member now buried in your gummy walls. Rafayel moans into the kiss, unintentionally slamming you down onto his cock when he’s barely halfway inside you. You break the kiss with a loud gasp, your head thrown back, back arching, boobs pressing against his chest. 

You whimper, “Oh, fuck, Rafayel.” Your body tenses up because of the stretch, before ultimately collapsing against his chest with a mewl. 

Rafayel bites his lower lip, his eyes rolling back as he rests his head against the edge of the tub. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size, rubbing your hipbone with his thumbs. Rafayel’s tempted to insert his second cock into you, but he knows that would be too soon and you’re not yet prepared for it. Maybe after he gets you to cum once, then he’ll reconsider. But for now, he’ll have to accept the current situation. 

“You’re the horniest man I know,” you mumble, looking up at him.

Rafayel opens his eyes and looks down at you, staring at you blankly. “You know other horny men?” Rafayel asks.

You and Rafayel stare at each other, not saying a word. It’s not like you know other horny men, but your statement stands! You can’t do anything without Rafayel wanting to bury his cock inside you 24/7. Heck, maybe someone’s going to have to surgically remove Rafayel from your pussy because that man will not want to pull out at all. 

Rafayel shakes his head. “I’m going to let what you said slide for now. I’m too horny right now.” Rafayel states, sitting up straight and adjusting you in his lap. Before you can retort, Rafayel grabs you by your ass cheeks and starts bouncing you on his pulsing cock. You bury your face into his neck, letting Rafayel guide you up and down on his large member. Sometimes you forget that a certain part of Rafayel’s body isn’t the average human size. 

Instead of one cock like a human man, Rafayel has two. His cock has these bumps and ridges that scrapes the inside of your cunt so good, adding extra pleasure to your love making. The tip of his cock isn’t bulbous for the most part— the tip of his cock, the very tip of it, has a point. It’s certainly not sharp, but it does make Rafayel hit your cervix easily. 

Each time Rafayel hits your cervix, you swear that you feel him in your guts. Rafayel pauses for a moment, grabbing his neglected second cock and lining it up against your ass. You stare at Rafayel, eyes bleary with lust and confusion.

Rafayel swallows the lump in his throat. “Let’s try something new, cutie. Are you down for it?” Rafayel whispers, rubbing the tip against your asshole. 

You nod, too drunk on his cock to answer properly. 

Rafayel smiles and kisses your temple. “That’s my girl.” He murmurs, slowly sinking his second cock into your ass with a grunt. Rafayel said that he was going to fuck you with his second cock after he gets you to cum the first time, but fuck. He can’t resist any longer and needs to fill both your holes with his cocks, and luckily for him, you’re taking it like a good girl.

- Zayne: -

“Dr. Zayne? Do you have a minute to spare?” Dr. Greyson asks from behind Zayne’s closed office door.

You and Zayne stare at each other like a deer caught in headlights. Zayne’s shirt is unbuttoned, and his pants and boxers are unzipped and pulled to his ankles. You, on the other hand, are on your knees before the Cardiac Surgeon with his cock in your mouth. You’re about to pull Zayne’s member out from your mouth, but Zayne grabs your head, keeping you in place while shaking his head.

Zayne clears his throat. “Yes, one moment, please, Dr. Greyson,” Zayne says.

Dr. Greyson stands outside Zayne’s office, flipping through patient charts. There are some things Dr. Greyson wanted to discuss with the Cardiac Surgeon, but he struggled to find the doctor until Yvonne informed him of a certain Miss Hunter stopping by to have lunch with the Cardiac Surgeon in his office. Of course, Dr. Greyson decides to give you two some privacy until the lunch break was almost over for Zayne. 

After what felt like forever, Dr. Greyson hears Zayne call out to him to enter the office. When Dr. Greyson enters the office, he notices it’s empty and you’re nowhere to be seen. Zayne is sitting at his desk, typing away on the computer and writing something down on a piece of paper. A report of some sort, perhaps?

Zayne looks at Dr. Greyson, nodding. “What is it that you need to discuss with me about?” Zayne asks.

Dr. Greyson sits across from Zayne and presents the patient's chart before going on a tangent, asking various questions. While Zayne and Dr. Greyson converse with one another, beneath the deak is you, with your mouth still latched onto Zayne’s cock. You slowly pull his cock out of your mouth, slowly pumping it, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Oh, I see! Well, I thought it was strange the patient wasn’t receiving enough doses of medication for their condition, that’s all,” Dr. Greyson says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Zayne rubs his temples, trying to keep his composure. “There is nothing to worry about, Dr. Greyson. From their checkup earlier today, they seem to be in better condition compared to their first appointment,” Zayne replies.

You swirl your tongue around the mushroom tip of Zayne’s member, sucking on the head like a lolipop. Zayne grips your hair with one hand under the desk. You can’t tell if he’s signaling for you to stop or to continue, so you do what you think is best: continue sucking him off until he paints the inside of your mouth white. 

Zayne tightens his grip on your hair, pretending to adjust himself in his seat when in actuality, he’s shoving his cock further into your mouth, nearly causing you to choke. Zayne’s member hits the back of your throat, making you gag. Since Dr. Greyson is still in the room with you and Zayne, you try your best to hold it in. 

“So, how are things with you and Miss Hunter?” Dr. Greyson asks, organizing the papers before placing them in the patient file. 

Zayne clears his throat, trying to act normal while subconsciously thrusts his cock into your mouth. “Things are going well between her and me. In fact, we’re moving to the next stage in our relationship,” Zayne replies nonchalantly, quickly looking down at you. 

You and Zayne lock eyes for a moment. The apples of Zayne’s cheeks and his ears are pink, almost dark enough to be red. Dear goodness, you really hope that Zayne’s reaction isn’t going to give you both away. 

Dr. Greyson smiles, satisfied with Zayne’s answer. “That sounds amazing, Dr. Zayne! I wish you two nothing but the best in your relationship. [Y/N] seems to have this positive effect on you,” Dr. Greyson says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh? And why do you think that?” Zayne asks, trying to hide the shakiness in his response.

As you continue to suck Zayne’s member under the desk, you reach up and start fondling his balls while stroking and squeezing parts of Zayne’s shaft that you couldn’t reach with your mouth. You hear Dr. Greyson hum in response, trying to think of ways to respond to Zayne’s question.

“Well, you’re quite flustered whenever I mention her, so I’m taking that as a good sign. I’ve never seen you so flustered before, Dr. Zayne.” You can hear a slight teasing tone in Dr. Greyson’s response.

Your heart fills with joy and pride after hearing Dr. Greyson’s response, but you know the real reasons as to why Zayne is flustered. You’re certainly the reason why Zayne’s is blushing, but the real reason behind Zayne’s reaction is something Dr. Greyson will never know unless Zayne or you blow your cover. 

Zayne gives Dr. Greyson a tight-lipped smile before looking back at the monitor, hoping, praying that Dr. Greyson will leave his office soon before he fills your mouth with his cum. After what felt like forever, Dr. Greyson finally stands up and leaves his office after bidding the Cardiac Surgeon goodbye.

Once the office door clicks shut, Zayne’s hand flies to your head and pumps your head up and down on his painfully throbbing member. Zayne rests his head on the headrest of his office chair, chest heaving up and down with labored breaths, feeling his impending orgasm. 

You stare at Zayne, eyes formed in a crescent shape. If your mouth weren’t stuffed full with Zayne’s cock right now, you would’ve been giving him a shit-eating grin for getting such reaction out of the stoic doctor. You release Zayne’s cock from your mouth with a wet pop before continuing to lick stripes up Zayne’s throbbing dick, swiping your tongue over the flushed red tip. 

“Are you close, Dr. Zayne?” You murmur, kissing the underside of his cock.

Zayne swallows, running his hand through his hair. “What do you think, darling?” Zayne pants, now running his fingers through your hair. “I want to repay you for your hard work, but it seems like we don’t have much time.”

With the clock ticking, you’re determined to get Zayne to cum in your mouth before he’s back on the clock as a Cardiac Surgeon. You sheath Zayne’s cock into your mouth, feeling the tip hit the back of your throat. You ignore the urge to choke and gag, sucking and licking Zayne’s member with fervor. You made sure to lick every vein on his cock, sucking on the tip, while fondling his balls.

You’re so focused on completing your task of giving Zayne the best head he’s ever had that you completely missed out on Zayne’s reaction to his orgasm hitting him harder than a Wanderer. Zayne’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he hits the back of his head on the headrest and tightens his grip on your hair just as his orgasm arrives. Soon enough, Zayne coats the inside of your mouth white. Zayne goes limp in his chair, staring at you with bleary eyes. You release Zayne’s cock from your mouth, swallowing his cum.

You smile at Zayne, tilting your head to the side. “Same time tomorrow, Dr. Zayne?” You jokingly ask.

Oh, he will definitely repay you once his shift is over.

- Sylus: -

Sylus invited you over to his place to show you some decor he added to his bedroom, and needless to say, it’s definitely something. You stand in Sylus’s bedroom, hands propped on your hips as you stare at the giant mirror hanging above the headboard of his bed. The mirror has an elegant black frame, matching the room’s aesthetic.

“You invited me over to look at the mirror hanging above your bed?” You ask, turning to look at the Onychinus leader with your eyebrows raised. 

Without saying a word, Sylus grabs your hand and brings you closer to his bed. Once you two are standing next to his bed, Sylus tilts your head up to look at the ceiling. To your surprise, you see another mirror on the ceiling, your and Sylus’s reflection staring back at you. You slowly look at Sylus, squinting at him.

“What an interesting choice of decor, Sylus. But I shouldn’t be judging since this isn’t my room,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

At first, it didn’t click. You didn’t know why Sylus chose to hang mirrors above his bed and on the ceiling. You thought Sylus was experimenting with something because he’s rich and bored. However, when the time came, you now know why.

“Look at the mirror,” Sylus murmurs to your ears, grabbing you by the chin and tilting your head up to stare into the mirror above the headboard. 

You look in the mirror to see your disheveled self, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, while Sylus is having his way with you. When you lock eyes with Sylus in the mirror, he smirks, leans down and kisses your shoulder while plunging his cock into your convulsing cunt. 

You can’t help but pout, leaning on your elbows while Sylus continues to hammer his member into your dripping entrance. “I want to see your face, Sy,” you whimper, gasping when the tip of his cock hits the deepest part of you.

“Sweetie, you can look at my face in the mirror. That’s why I hung the mirror there,” Sylus replies, raising his hand and landing a crisp slap on your buttcheeks.

You jerk forward, whimpering in response. “Stop being a smart ass, Sylus. You know what I mean!” You whine, turning to look at Sylus over your shoulders.

Sylus stops thrusting into you, running his hand through his hair with a laugh. “Alright, kitten. As you wish,” he bows.

Sylus pulls his cock out from your cunt and wraps his arms around your waist, flipping you over to lay on your back. You rub your eyes when dizziness hits you for a brief moment. Sylus peers over you, his arms caging you against his bed.

Sylus brushes your hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ears. “You’re really cute when you’re needy,” he teases, kissing your forehead before lining his cock in front of your entrance.

You wrap your legs around his waist, waiting for Sylus to plunge his cock into your cunt. Sylus slowly buries his cock into you, earning a gasp and moan from you. Sylus closes his eyes in ecstasy, leaning on his arms as he continues to sheath his cock further into your hot entrance. Sylus reaches for your hand, grabs your hand with his much larger one, and laces your fingers with his. 

Once he’s balls deep inside you, Sylus gives you a minute or two to adjust to the thickness of his cock. Not only was he incredibly thick, but he’s also long enough to reach your cervix effortlessly while not fully sheathed inside your dripping entrance. Sylus kisses your lips before proceeding to thrust in and out of your cunt, groaning at the feeling of your gummy walls snugly wrapped around his pulsating cock. 

You tighten your grip around Sylus’s hands, whimpering when the red tip of his cock hits your cervix repeatedly. You dig your heels into his asscheeks, pulling him closer to you. Sylus’s thrust stutters for a moment before he lies on top of you, but makes sure not to crush you under his weight.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror that’s hanging above the bed. You watch the way Sylus’s back muscles flex, how his ass would clench every time he’s pistoning his member in and out of your squelching cunt with no remorse. The sight of Sylus pummeling into your entrance makes you even wetter. You close your eyes and continue to let Sylus have his way with you while you cling to him for dear life as he buries his cock deep inside you.

Every time he thrusts into you, he makes sure to remain still for five seconds before pulling out and repeating. Sylus slowly pulls the rest of his cock out from your insides, but keeps the tip of his cock nestled inside your throbbing pussy. You peek at Sylus, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Sylus slams his cock back into your sopping cunt. You cry out in pleasure, your pussy tightens around Sylus’s cock.

“Sylus~!” You whine, legs trembling around his slim waist. “I don’t know how much longer I can last,” you whimper, feeling a familiar knot forming in your lower abdomen.

Sylus kisses your temples, thrusting into your entrance, relishing in the feeling of your sweltering hole. God, if Sylus can live in your cunt for the rest of his life, he would do it with no hesitation. To be loved is to be buried deep in your pussy, painting the gummy walls white with his cum. Sylus pauses for a moment and looks at where you two are connected. Your glistening cunt, almost visibly pulsating around his cock.

You whine, grinding against Sylus’s cock. “Why���d you stop?” You complain, glaring up at him with bleary eyes.

Sylus laughs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help but be mesmerized by you and your pretty pussy,” Sylus replies, slowly moving his hand to your cunt, his thumb finding your puffy clit. “She’s calling to me, begging me to fill her up.”

You cover your face, feeling heat rushing to your cheeks. Yes, Sylus is balls deep inside you, but you can’t help but feel shy whenever he’s narrating what you desire. Sylus snickers, leaning down and pressing his chest against yours. While Sylus is ravaging your insides with his thick cock, he’s pinching and rubbing your swollen clit. 

You clench your jaws, the knot in your lower abdomen becoming incredibly tighter the more Sylus continues to rail you while stimulating your engorged bundle of nerves. The bed creaks and groans under you and Sylus, the headboard hitting the walls, syncing with Sylus’s thrusts. 

Just as you’re about to reach your orgasm, Sylus flips the both of you over and you’re now straddling his waist with his cock nestled deep inside you. You plant both hands on Sylus’s chest, staring down at him, chest rapidly rising and falling with each breath you take. 

“Ride me, sweetie. Show me what you got,” Sylus says, slapping both your ass cheeks.

You puff your cheeks. “Sylus! I was so close to cumming,” you squeeze his pecks. “But fine, I’ll show you what I’m capable of,” you grumble.

You plant your knees on both sides of Sylus’s waist, lean forward and began bouncing on his cock with fervor. You bite down on your lips, eyebrows furrowing as you focus on riding Sylus’s girthy member. Sylus rests his head on his pillow, staring up at you as you ride him. While Sylus is usually the one who takes control in the bedroom (and outside the bedroom), he loves it when you take control and control him.

You grind your puffy clit against Sylus’s pubic bone, your body shuddering from the pleasure. Sylus wraps one arm around your waist, guiding you on his cock. His mouth is agape, soft grunts escaping from his lips as he gazes at you, eyes glazed over. 

“I don’t think I can last any longer, kitten,” Sylus murmurs, breathing heavily and thrusting up into you hard.

You yelp and grip on the pillow behind him, your pussy quivering around his cock. Your arms become jelly, making you collapse on Sylus while still trying your best to chase your and Sylus’s orgasms. The knot in your lower abdomen snaps, and you tense in Sylus’s arms, your vision turning white, and stars dot your vision. Sylus grunts beneath you and fills your gummy walls with his pearly white cum, slowly pumping in and out of you, filling you to the brim. 

Note: To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the smut. This took me a while to type out because I always procrastinate whenever I write smuts. I think it's an okay-ish smut since I'm usually never confident in the smuts I write. I want to write for Love&Deepspace since I do play it more than I do with Hoyoverse games at the moment. Hopefully, I get more ideas and post more for Love&Deepspace. If you're interested in joining my Discord server, the invite to my Discord server can be found [HERE]! The Discord server invite links will be different every time I post a new fanfic, and these links have expiration dates. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[haologram]

muddled hearts 🍹 x.mh [m]

↳ part of the 'lonely hearts cafe' collab!

synopsis: things take a turn for the better when you finally find a roommate to escape your incredibly overpriced apartment, but you don't expect to ruin the only relationship that matters to you in the process. genre: forced proximity au. coworkers/friends/roommates idiots to lovers. angst, fluff, suggestive themes. pairing: bartender!xu minghao x fem!waitress!reader | side pairings: restaurant owners!jeongcheol ; bartender!seungkwan x waiter!hansol ; chef!mingyu x hostess!tzuyu (twice) word count: 24k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol (obviously??) mentions of food/eating. reader has a strained relationship with her parents. jeongcheol/verkwan/tzugyu are all plot devices. unspoken pining, kissing. what to listen to: am pm - jay b, wheein ; you and me - lifehouse ; runnin' - the pharcyde ; no one noticed - the marías ; have u found what ur looking for? - ashton irwin ; on the line - blood orange author's note: the loml and the haologram namesake has officially debuted on this blog! while i am not entirely satisfied with this piece, that's okay and i still love the idea i put forth and the way i expressed what i could on the time crunch i gave myself. i will likely work on a spinoff for this, or just something to delve more into their backstory and developing them. special thank you to my lovely beta readers @diamonddaze01 @lovetaroandtaemin @tomodachiii <3 please enjoy!

A YEAR AGO…

"I need a Guinness." That was the first thing you ever said to Xu Minghao. You'd been hired by Seungcheol, one of the restaurant owners, three weeks prior but hadn't worked a shift with Minghao yet.

Therefore, he didn't know your name or when you even got there. There hadn't been any murmur of a new girl, much less a pretty one – which was odd for the establishment. Full of meddling college students and a married couple who ran the place, there was bound to be some gossip. Something about your looks, your demeanor, anything – but no. Nothing had flown down the grapevine.

You didn't bother to introduce yourself, either. Your eyes were pointed until he quirked a brow, scoffing out a laugh and pouring the drink for you. He'd said nothing as you took it, skirting around several clients and even a busboy and delivered it with a smile on your face to the awaiting patron…

…Who slipped a tip into your apron with a greasy smile, and you kept yours on your lips until you were out of the patron's line of sight. Then, tucked into the serving staff's corner, he saw the way your shoulders sagged, a look of disgust on your face as you shivered. He clicked his tongue to himself, but filed the vision away to the back of his mind. 

He spent the rest of the night silently giving you the drinks you asked for, or speaking to his regulars as he made your cocktails. You always waited patiently, your fingers spinning your pen expertly as you watched over the patrons of the restaurant. He watched the way you sped past everyone, wormed your way through gathered crowds, and even ducked under trays being carried by your fellow servers. 

You got your job done, and you got it done fast – your patrons visibly happy with your service and your apron slightly overflowing with tips when you slid behind the bar and tucked them into your lockbox without a word to him.

It wasn't until you bid your last patron a good night that he saw your shoulders relax, your fingers yanking the elastic out of your hair and shaking it out. The relief on your forehead was noticeable as you walked back to the bar, opening the fridge behind him and grabbing a can of the orange juice he used for some of the cocktails on the menu.

"D'you mind? I know they're counted." He shook his head as he skirted past you with his tray full of cups, the glasses clinking against each other while he made his way to the back. Your fellow servers were gathered around the heat of the kitchen, leaning against the wall or stretching their overworked limbs. He kept to himself, hearing them whisper about the new girl.

"She's so pretty." "Yeah, but she doesn't talk. I tried to talk to her back here a couple times, and she just keeps it short." "She's here to work."

"So am I, but at least I'm not rude." He set his dishes into the washer, cursing to himself when he realized he forgot his shakers at the bar. He was about to start the cycle when he heard the soft clanking of metal against metal, seeing your closed can of orange juice tucked into your shirt pocket as you held out his tray of shakers. 

"Thought you might need these, wouldn't want you to make unnecessary trips."

He thanked you with a smile, taking the black tray as you cracked open your can, shrugging as you turned on your heel and walked away. The servers looked appalled as you grabbed the sanitizer spray before walking out of the kitchen, a rag already hanging from your belt loop. They looked at Minghao, who quietly loaded the shakers into the machine – wondering how he got you to speak to him.

The answer was plain and simple – he was a crucial part of the services you provided as a waitress. You clearly didn't need help with your tables: he watched how easily you maneuvered through picky eaters and entitled elderly women, all in one night. He saw how you smiled and greeted people warmly and enthusiastically, something the other servers weren't very good at but hey — a buck is a buck.

He wormed back out of the kitchen amongst the whispers, rolling his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head. You were wearing headphones, nodding your head along to something as you wiped down every table and chair.

He slid back behind the bar and started his own closing duties, but he took a moment to take you in fully – the soft slope of your nose, the way your brows furrowed as you ran your rag over particularly sticky spots. The purse of your lips as you mouthed along to whatever it was that you were listening to.

"Do you need any help?"  

You were in front of the bar now, holding one of your earbuds in your hand as you raised a brow at him. He shook his head before extending his hand out to you.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Minghao."

You were wary as you shook his hand, but your grip was nice and firm as you did so. 

"Y/N. Sorry if I was kind of emotionless during the shift, it helps me focus better if I'm not talking to people while I work." He shook his head again, as if to say no worries, before reaching under the bar and pulling your lockbox for you. You thanked him softly as you took it in your hands, walking away towards Seungcheol and Jeonghan's office to do your tip-out for the night. He finished his duties quickly, even managing to rearrange the cups and shakers for the morning bartender as the servers came to him one by one and gave him his share of their tips.

Until you came back out with a soft smile on your lips, your hair now loosely tied up and your apron slung over your shoulder as you held a wad of cash out to him, far thicker than any of the other servers. He'd been counting the leftover mixers, crossing out your orange juice as a markout as you slipped the money into his hand.

"For your help. Thanks."

"It's my job, no need to thank me." "Doesn't hurt. Have a good night, Minghao." "You too, Y/N." He smiled back as you finished what was left in your can of juice, tossing it as you made your way out of the building. He followed shortly after, walking out a few of the other servers to their cars in the parking lot for good measure. He never really spoke to them either, despite having worked with them for a little over a year – but he was a gentleman if nothing else.

The next few shifts he worked with you were like that, too. You'd smile at him a bit and ask for things with a nicer tone of voice. He still delivered and watched you from afar, slightly amazed at your abilities to satisfy all your patrons – couples, families, even that one elderly woman who always sent her steak back because it was never done well enough…she hadn't sent it back the night you served her.

You always walked out first, handing Minghao thick stacks of cash and stealing cans of orange juice. It got to the point where he would set yours aside from the counted lot, marking it out in the system before they shut down for the night. The other servers watched your interactions – short and sweet, but still far more than you'd ever attempted to interact with them.

He soon learned that you did like to talk, you just had no one that you deemed worthy of your time. So when you arrived early on some shifts, you'd sit at the bar and ask Minghao things about himself. He'd gladly answer, mixing up non-alcoholic versions of his favorite cocktails for you as he talked in a soft voice. You both noticed the wandering eyes of your coworkers, but neither of you mentioned it to the other.

He noticed that you never answered any questions about yourself, opting to spin the question back on him. He let it slide, but he knew you understood that eventually, you'd have to open up, too. When you did decide to do so was completely up to the universe.

It wasn't until the compliments started that the two of you really started talking – it started as something subtle and quiet. Minghao commented on your earrings or choice of lipgloss, and you said you liked his hair and the way he styled his jewelry. You would both laugh over light coworker gossip or comments about how easily Jeonghan got under Seungcheol's skin. 

You started greeting him when you'd swing by the bar for any alcoholic beverage, and he'd pause his flirting with his regulars to give you his undivided attention. This is how you learned that he had a way with body language – his eyes were always grazing over someone's face, his shoulders set back in confidence, brushing his fingers lightly over whoever was grabbing their drink.

This included you, but neither of you said anything about it. You'd let his fingers swipe over yours occasionally, choosing to smile and thank him as you went about your shift. The regulars noticed the way his attention was no longer fully on them, and some complained, but some spoke directly to Minghao about it – saying how cute it was for him to be crushing on the new girl.

He wasn't, but he didn't care to clear it up if it meant it got you more tips.

One night, things were as normal – it was a busy Friday evening, and you slid behind the bar to stuff your cash into your lockbox for the third time before closing. His fingers covered the edge of the bar so you wouldn't hit yourself, and you thanked him with a pat to his ribcage before slipping back out onto the restaurant floor with your pen flipping through your fingers like always. He watched you zip around, smiling widely as you took orders, casually flirting with patrons around your age, taking group photos with cell phones and cameras. 

You stole your can of orange juice, helped Minghao with his dishes and did your closing duties. You got tipped out by Jeonghan and gave Minghao his share, bidding him a good night before waltzing out of the restaurant. You skipped to your car, expecting a smooth drive home and ending your good night on your comfy couch with a Pilsner and a bag of chips…

When your car simply wouldn't start.  No big deal, you'd told yourself. You tried turning your headlights on, but nothing happened. This could mean one of two things: your battery had crapped out and just needed a jump, or tonight was just the night you'd be walking the twenty blocks home. You clicked your tongue before sighing and resting your forehead on the fuzzy steering wheel cover.

Minghao had watched this entire ordeal from the door of the restaurant, finishing a conversation with Seungcheol before stepping out and calling out your name. Your ears perked up, your eyes tired as you looked up and saw him walking over. He smiled as you pouted, opening your car door and explaining the situation.

"Not a problem, I can give you a lift." "I couldn't ask you to do that, Minghao." "You're not. I'm offering."

It went back and forth like that for about ten minutes before Minghao reached out and plucked your keys out of the ignition. You huffed as he jingled them, throwing your apron over your shoulder and manually locking all your doors before slipping out.

“I live a bit out of the way.” “I do, too. Don’t worry about it.”

Turns out that a bit out of the way for you, meant two blocks from Minghao’s apartment. 

It also turns out that the two of you had much more in common than just working at Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s restaurant.

You both loved art, fashion…the idea of flirting and making people think something was going to happen. You were both studying but at two different universities, and worked at the restaurant to save money for graduate school. He finds out that you're almost too big of a Bloody Mary fan, and nothing stops you from yucking a Piña Colada enjoyer's yum. He doesn't drink, and the revelation makes you snort, until you realize he's serious and roll your eyes subtly.

And all of this is something you find out as you sit in his car outside of your apartment complex, the heat cranked up and his radio playing AM PM by Jay B and Wheein on the lowest volume. He speaks softly, just like he does at the restaurant – and you notice his eyes almost glued to your face as you reciprocate. A few shy laughs are shared until he says something about Mingyu and his habit of stealing cheese curds off the customer trays, making you snort and hit your head on his window. He apologizes profusely but the sentiment is waned by his own rickety giggle, making you flush embarrassedly and shove him lightly.

The night ends when he offers to walk you up to your apartment, but you decline, holding your purse tightly. He still gets out of his car, perches on the hood and watches you duck into the heavy greenery that ornaments the entryway, hearing your work shoes click against the cold cement steps. He waits at least ten minutes before leaning back on his car, taking a deep breath in the chilly November air and pushing off. He slides back into the driver's seat, not noticing the way you look down at him from your second floor apartment. You peeked at him through the wooden blinds of your bedroom, the soft thundering in your chest something you couldn't figure out.

All you knew is that he was Xu Minghao, and if he was meant to break your heart – so be it.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO…

"Need a ride?"

You scoffed to yourself, hearing Minghao's voice across the parking lot. Your shoulders were slumped, your head resting defeatedly against the steering wheel of your 2002 Nissan that once more, refused to start. Why? You have no idea.

"No. It'll start. It has to start." You muttered back, seeing him approach the side of your vehicle. He dons a sympathetic smile as he leans in the window, his fingers grazing the fuzzy leopard print wheel cover. You ignored the manicure you'd been admiring your entire shift, the blotted maroon a perfect tone against his skin – and cranked your ignition.

Chchchch.

"Try again." Chchchch.

He glanced up at you before unlocking your door from the inside and yanking it open. He reached under your dash, popping your hood gingerly and snaking out from under the steering wheel. You only eyed him tiredly as he slid in front of your car, setting your hood up on the prop rod and tinkering around. You couldn't help but let your eyes close slightly, the soreness in your muscles taking over just as he popped back into your window. You jolted out of the light slumber, the crease between your brows deepening in the stark spring moonlight.

"Two things, gorgeous. Either your alternator is fucked and not charging your battery, or your starter engine has crapped out." He shrugged, and you couldn't bring yourself to react further than a groan. Your hands ran through your hair, and Minghao cooed lightly.

"C'mon, I'll give you a lift home. We'll get Cheol to pay for a tow." He wiggled his brows, making you let out a noise of amusement. You sighed, nodding silently as he once more took your keys out of the ignition. You grabbed your items, swinging your apron over your shoulder and locking your doors manually before slinking out and letting Minghao shut your door. 

You shook your head in disbelief, absently resting your forehead against his bicep with a sigh.

"I'm so tired."

Apparently, tired meant that you were almost about to fall asleep standing up. Neither of you worked tomorrow, so Minghao simply wrapped his arm around your shoulders (an act that neither of you would ever speak on, but made the both of you incredibly giddy) and led you to his car. He opened the door and helped you climb in, even going as far as buckling your seatbelt for you despite your whining protests that you could do it yourself.

"I know you can. Just let me help you, yeah?"

You gave in without a second thought, your eyes fluttering shut as he slid into the driver's side and started his car. You had turned your head towards him and muttered some words quietly.

Something that sounded like thank you, followed by a slightly more intelligible string of words.

"If I fall asleep, I give you full permission to leave me on my doorstep like a package."

He only snorted, knowing he would not ever do that to you. Rolling his eyes, he fiddled with the radio, hearing You and Me by Lifehouse playing on his favorite station. He kept it on as he pulled out of the parking lot, seeing Seungcheol staring in his direction with wide eyes as he walked Jeonghan to their shared car. Minghao only shrugged, waving quickly before turning out into the street and driving down the road.

It was peaceful, watching you sleep. The way your lashes kissed the fat of your cheeks, the way your lips were pouty and he resisted the urge to wipe your chin of a bit of drool that had begun to spill out. He bit down on his lip to hold in his laughter as you stirred, your thumb instinctively coming to your face to wipe at it. You peeled your eyes open, the whites slightly bloodshot and your face contorting in the soreness you felt. "Long day, huh?" He whistled as he flicked on his turn signal, and you only managed to hum in response. You blinked at him, his eyes catching yours as you stared into him. He raised his brows in confusion, and you shrugged your shoulders as much as your fatigue allowed.

"Why are you so nice to me, Hao?"

He only smiled, clicking his tongue as he took the turn down the creepy backroad neither of you liked and often discussed when you had some down time at work. "I thought we were friends, Y/N?"

He saw the way you leaned your head back on his headrest, nose scrunched as you began to settle deep in thought. Were you friends? He thinks so. He thinks setting aside your daily orange juice can means that he's your friend. He thinks giving you lifts home, means that you trust him. That's a crucial part of friendship, isn't it? Trust?

Maybe the subtle flirting he'd been dishing out wasn't so friendly, but he certainly desired to be your friend. He liked your eager conversation, a drastic change in comparison to how stoic you had been upon first meeting him – and how uninterested you were in everyone else you worked with. Aside from Mingyu in the kitchen and Tzuyu the hostess, you had absolutely no interest in talking to anyone but Minghao.

You also didn't allow anyone else but Minghao into your life so closely. Only he knew where you lived, what troubled you, how your mother made you feel about yourself. Only he knew about your bad habits – your affinity for gossip, your extensive situationship issues with your ex-boyfriend, Jaehyun, and how you thought your apartment was entirely too expensive for a college student that was buying her dinner with coins.

"I guess you're right. We should hang out one day, instead of just you giving me pitiful looks when my car craps out on me."

Your tone had been light, but he knew you weren't joking. No matter how often this happened, you insisted what Minghao was dishing out was pity. It wasn't – it was a break. A chance to worry about things later, or tomorrow, because he also understood what it was like to be stressed. He also understood what it was like to have a car let him down time after time, but he had had no one to take that mercy upon him. He'd walked home in pouring rain, risked getting sick, slipped one too many times.

A favor, was what he was offering, if anything.

You just didn't know how to accept help. It was one of your flaws that made itself known without a single word from you.

"I'm free tomorrow. I don't work; I took the day off." "I'm free, too. I'll text you when I wake up. Maybe we can get brunch?"

You would not end up texting Minghao, because you were knocked out – too knocked out to be woken up – by the time that the two of you reached your apartment. He knew your keys were in your purse, but after three attempts at waking you up, he gave up. He drove the two blocks to his complex, snagging the perfect spot in front of his entrance.

He hadn't been too sure of what to do, so he left you in his car with the engine running to duck into his apartment – returning within a few minutes with a pair of blankets for you and him. He opened your door and leaned your seat back slowly, before throwing the blanket over you and moving your belongings to his backseat. He climbed back into the driver's side, scrolling on his phone for a bit before peering over at you. Still sound asleep, as the clock struck midnight. 

He hummed, closing his eyes for a moment.

A moment turned into three hours, when he heard your phone start ringing in the cupholder. It jolted him awake, his eyes narrowed as he read the blurry name out – Jaehyun.

He declined the call. Once. Twice. Six times, he declined Jaehyun's call. He turned your phone off after that, but you had stirred enough from the sheer sound of him fumbling around. Your eyes were bloodshot as you blinked before realizing you were still in his car.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Have we been here long?" He only smiled, gesturing at the blanket on your body. Your eyes widened as much as they could in their sleep-swollen state, before he flashed his phone screen at you.

3:13am.

"Hao! Why didn't you wake me up!?"

"I certainly tried. I drove around your complex twice before deciding it was futile. We're outside my apartment, if you want to crash here. I'm in no position to drive now."

You had scoffed tiredly (read: with embarrassment), before the urge to stretch took over – the blanket slipping down your legs as you twisted your torso and popped your back. Minghao only giggled tiredly, letting you pout at him.

"I don't have a toothbrush here."

"I have spares for guests. And I have a guest room, so it's not like you'd be taking over my couch or anything. There is always going to be a special space for you, you're my friend."

And you wanted to be his friend so badly.

"Fine. But I'm buying breakfast." "Sure, whatever makes you feel better."

You did not end up buying breakfast. In fact, after you allowed Minghao to help you get situated in his guest room, you didn't even wake up until well in the afternoon. The soft sheets, the absolute dream of a mattress…

The gentle scent of his detergent on the clothes he made you wear to bed while he stayed up an extra two hours – washing and ironing your work uniform. He even took your socks.

Granted, he also did not wake up until late that day. The two of you jerked the doors of the respective rooms open within five minutes of each other, Minghao sluggishly standing in his kitchen with his forehead against the cool steel of his fridge. He held a carton of eggs in his hand, your mouth occupied by the toothbrush he'd given you the night before.

"Eggs?" "I don't even want to cook, I just want to order in." "My treat. Consider it a thank you for letting me crash here." He had looked up then, a quirk in his brow as his lips twitched into a small smirk.

"Don't thank me for being a good friend. That's what you're supposed to do, Y/N."

He didn't allow you to pay for delivery. He didn't even allow you to bicker with him when he shoved you into the bathroom, insisting you shower while waiting for the food to arrive. He was a bit like a parent in that sense – forcing you to take his help and hospitality – and even offering to blow-dry your hair when you exited the bathroom in yet another set of his loungewear, the sweatpants low on your hips as you sat down in front of him and allowed him to do as he pleased.

Something about the domesticity of Minghao brought you comfort. He was gentle and kind, and entirely way too nice for your own good. You had this idea that you had to earn niceties, and Minghao was actively challenging that perspective with the way he wormed himself into your heart. Unlike the parasite, though, you were sure that loving him in whatever matter presented itself would not kill you.

He attempted to drive you home around midnight, the two of you far too excited to let the night end – when your phone began ringing again, this time as he pulled into a gas station. He sighed, "Take care of that. I'll be back."

Your ex-boyfriend told you he was at your apartment and asked why you weren't answering the door. You admitted that you weren't home and insisted that he went home – that you weren't interested in seeing him. He took it pretty hard, trying to convince you that he wanted nothing more than to see you, but Minghao arrived just as you snapped on him and told him that this odd situation was not working in anyone's favor.

Jaehyun insisted that he still loved you – but you said you wouldn't be seeing him again and hung up. You blocked his number before the bombardment of texts could flood in, resting your head against the seat and sighing. You gave Minghao a worried look, earning a soft laugh from him as he reached over and ran his fingers through your hair.

"Everything is going to be okay in due time. We'd be nothing in life if we didn't struggle a bit." He didn't take you home. Instead, he drove around the city, his hand slotted in yours. It was nothing more than an attempt at a comforting gesture on his behalf, but you couldn't help the way your stomach fluttered slightly. You stared out the window as he spoke softly, telling you stories about his life and listening intently to yours. Eventually, the two of you wound up at a park you frequented as a child, one with a wishing well. 

The two of you got down and headed straight for that well, Minghao holding a few coins he was willing to part ways with in his hand. He gave you half of them, telling you to make your wishes as he thought of his. He watched you intently, your eyes closed and thick lashes fluttering against your cheeks, lips pouty as you murmured to yourself. He was barely able to hear you, leaning a bit closer.

"I wish to be happy."

He closed his eyes after hearing that.

He knew in his heart that he couldn't be solely responsible for your happiness, but he could certainly aid in it. He was your friend, and he was determined to see that wish come true, even if it meant sacrificing his own time and energy to see it happen for you. Be it what may, he was hell-bent about it, within seconds of hearing you say it.

So much so, that when he dropped his 500 won coin, he too wished for you to be happy.

It was the least he could do at that moment.

He actually drove you home after that, and you invited him in. He stayed for all of two hours, just talking to you and keeping you company as you settled things around your apartment. Once more, the topic of rent being way too much came up – and he asked if you wanted a roommate.  You had snorted, insisting that you could handle rent on your own.

Minghao went home that night with another plan in mind.

SIX MONTHS AGO…

"Graduation is coming up. I know we've only just started getting close, but I got you a ticket to mine in case you'd like to be there." The casual comment had made you choke on your strawberry lemonade. He offered a napkin, smiling mischievously at you as you scoffed, wiping your lips carefully. He'd invited you out to lunch on yet another day off, but this time, the two of you were nicely dressed up. So much so, that your waitress thought you were a couple on a date. Neither of you made the move to correct her.

"Minghao, you can't just say that so casually." You muttered, but there was a twitch in your lip that gave you away. He caught it almost instantly, reaching into his bag and pulling out your ticket – watching you reach into your purse and pull his ticket out. Both graduations were on the same day, yours in the morning and his in the afternoon – just barely two hours apart. Enough that you'd be able to have a luncheon with your family and still make it to his right on time.  "You'll be celebrating with your family afterward, right?" "We're having a small party. A few of my friends will be there, and I'd like you to attend if it's possible. I know you probably have your own things to do."

You didn't, just the lunch. Something about your accomplishments was never enough for your family to celebrate, and they were of the breed that believed graduation was simply a part of life – nothing worth celebrating. Minghao didn't need to know that, though.

"Sure. I'll be there."

And it didn't take long for the day to spin around. You were dressed in your favorite white dress, covered slightly by your forest green graduation gown. Minghao met your family – your mother giving him a quick smile before tugging your father into the stadium. You offered an apology and said that one of your lifelong friends, Junhui, would be arriving soon, and Minghao could sit with him. You stuck around until he did, introducing the two and scurrying away to get set up with your classmates.

Funnily enough, Minghao and Junhui hit it off really well – so much so that when your name was called and you crossed the stage, they cheered so loudly that your parents looked away in embarrassment. You beamed up at your friends, waving excitedly and hopping down to your seat. The ceremony was over quickly, and your parents were nowhere to be found for photos.

It bummed you out, and your friends both noticed. You called their phones relentlessly, to no avail – making Minghao and Junhui take you to lunch on their own. You still enjoyed it, but they could tell that you were not happy. Neither of them made a statement, but Minghao managed to find a last minute ticket for Junhui to attend his graduation with you and invited him to the party as well.

You and Junhui sat in the stands an hour later, holding a huge bouquet you'd ordered a few days in advance – and sat with his parents, who eagerly admitted their glee in Minghao finding friends so easily. You enjoyed the pride his parents had in their son, feeling the same love that Minghao so eagerly poured over you with no remorse. You could tell how loved he had been growing up, how every single part of him was a part of them and then some.

How Minghao was truly someone made of love, by love, for love.

You cheered loudly with his family as he crossed the stage, finding his eyes as he looked up. The maroon of his gown did wonders for his skin, and you hated the way your cheeks warmed as he winked at you. Junhui elbowed you lightly, a knowing look in his eyes that made you scoff and shove him softly.

"We've been friends since we were kids, Y/N. You don't fool me."

However, it didn't stop you from trying. To you, Minghao was just your friend – you had no intent to ever take things further than that. Much like he slowly picked up on your flaws and bad habits, you did his – his subtle flirting with regulars, the way he had no shame in giving free drinks away if he thought someone was cute. It made you overthink everything about his way of acting with you – how easy it was to distinguish that he would never have a romantic feeling towards you if this was how he acted towards patrons.

So you figured your odd little crush was sorely misplaced – and added that you hadn't spoken to Jaehyun since the first time you slept over at Minghao's apartment was cause for the strange feeling of neediness in your stomach. Minghao was worth more than a rebound, and he was far more than you would ever deserve.

You spent the rest of the day enjoying delicious food prepared by his parents and spending hours dancing with Junhui and Minghao in turns. You blushed severely when Minghao's parents asked if you were interested in Minghao, quickly refusing the idea and insisting you were his friend and nothing more. You later saw Minghao blush all the same, his mother looking over his shoulder at you and making him do the same – before you saw his plush lips form around the negative response of No, she's just my friend.

You ignored the sinking feeling and focused on the party – with Mingyu swinging by for an hour before going back out to hang with his girlfriend, Tzuyu, and his best friend, Wonwoo (and they were all coworkers of yours that you allowed yourself to grow closer to after realizing they were no threat.) You took dozens of photos with everyone, had plenty to eat and reluctantly bid goodnight to a tired Junhui that drove back to his girlfriend's apartment after checking that Minghao would take you home. 

The two of you stayed for a little longer, watching all the guests leave. You walked around his parents' home and helped them clean up silently, hearing his mother praise you quietly to her son. Your refusal to acknowledge it made everything easier, grabbing an apron from the kitchen and tasking yourself with washing dishes alongside Minghao's father. He made soft conversation, and you understood where Minghao got his doting personality. It made you think way too hard about the man you called your friend to everyone's face, including his.

At the end of the night, you cried when Minghao presented you with a graduation gift in the privacy of his car – a pair of earrings and a lease. A lease to a two-bedroom, one-and-a-half bathroom apartment he found all on his own, after more complaints about your rent being too high came about. He admitted that he'd initially started looking for places solely for you, but later came to the idea that maybe you would like some company. He fully admitted that he would have no problem if you denied his request to be your roommate, but seeing as the two of you had also planned on going to graduate school…he thought that maybe splitting costs would be easier.

"You can say no. I know it's a bit presumptuous of me to jump the gun like this. I've already signed it, but the leasing office told me it was okay if I wound up taking the place alone. I just thought I'd run it by you."

You had only blinked up at him through teary eyes, your lips pouty as you whined.

"Why are you always so nice to me, Xu Minghao? I would've never thought to do this."

"You're not me, pretty. And you're my friend, I'd go as far as even saying you're one of my best friends. I love you and I care about what stresses you out, and I'd give my left arm to make life easier for you."

Anyone else would've seen this as an admittance of romantic feelings.

Anyone else.

"Minghao, I can't accept this." "Yes, you can. You don't have to be strong all the time. I'm here. I care. Just let me help you, okay?"

You don't know how, but just the soft lilt of his voice made you fold. You signed your name in blue ink that very same night and rode with him back to your apartment. You invited him in, the two of you tired from forced socialization and flopping on your couch. Neither of you said much as you scrolled through Hulu, your television lighting up your living room along with the few candles on your coffee table. "You never tried your earrings on." He muttered next to you, his eyes closed as you settled on Coyote Ugly. Your lips formed an O-shape, and you nodded as you dug them out of your purse. You popped the velvety box open, the diamond studs twinkling back at you. "Allow me." He leaned forward, plucking the box from your fingers and gingerly removing them from the backing. He watched silently as you took your signature gold hoops out, turning to face him with a tired smile on your lips. "Ready?" "Be gentle, I'm sensitive." 

He scooted slightly closer, nimble fingers softly tilting your jaw toward him. You ignored the way the hair on the back of your neck stood on end as he tucked a stray curl behind your ear, thumbing at your earlobe gently before slipping the earring through.

You heard him mumble to himself but didn't get a chance to ask questions as he carefully slid the backing on and quickly put on the other one for you. He nodded in approval, both hands brushing your face as he pushed your hair back. "You look pretty in diamonds."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as his hands left your face. You dug a compact mirror out of your purse, using the low light of the room to see. Long lashes fluttered in the reflection as you shifted the mirror around, your manicured fingers lightly tracing the shell of your ear as you took in the subtle sparkle of the gemstones.

"You didn't have to, you know. I didn't get you anything."

You slumped on the couch, resting the side of your head on one of the thick cushions while looking up at him. He propped his arm up on the back of the couch, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned his head on the palm of his hand. "Having you is enough. Did I tell you that I like your dress? I don't think I told you."

Your eyes only widened before you felt your cheeks heat and cleared your throat. You glanced down at your dress, the scattered sequins across the white dress glinting in the low light. An odd feeling settled in your stomach as you ran your hands down the fabric before looking back up at him to see his eyes boring into you.

Like he could see what you were thinking.

"You're beautiful, but I don't have to tell you that. You already know." He said pointedly, and you scoffed. You look away, turning your head to face the ceiling. You follow the slow spin of the fan, before you glance back at him through the corner of your eye. He's still looking at you, but with a soft smile and a raise of his brows as if he's waiting for you to tell him what's on your mind.

"You don't, you're right. Sorry." You muttered, crossing your legs at the knee. You could feel the soreness in your calves from being on your feet all day, the straps from your shoes so tight that they'd imprinted on your skin. Minghao shifted next to you, and you could feel the heat of his gaze raking across your face.

"Y/N?"

You turned to face him, "Hm?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "Nothing."

You scowled, sitting up quickly and tucking your legs under you. "I hate when people do that, Hao. Tell me what you were going to say."

He only chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned back on your couch, tucking his hands under his head. "I wasn't going to say anything, sweetheart. Just…yeah."

"Xu Minghao." "Ooh, full name. Don't hurt me, I might like it." You gaped, smacking his arm lightly. He grabbed your wrist loosely, making you fail at biting back your laughter when his other hand tickled your ribs. "M-Minghao! I don't need to know that!"

"Don't you, though? I know that you like your hair pulled, you told me like three days ago when we were tipsy during movie night. Call it an even exchange of information." He nodded, and you only attempted to swat his hands away from digging into your ribcage as a scream of laughter escaped your throat. He grinned, pinning you against the cushion as you squirmed under him.

"N-Not fair! You're s-stronger than m–AH!" You choked on your own laughter, thrashing as he stopped, squeezing your sides gently with a mischievous smile painted on his face. The glint in his eyes made your stomach swirl slightly as he looked down at you, and it took a few moments for you to realize just how close his face was to yours. You didn't dare look at his lips, forcing your eyes to be glued to his as you swallowed quietly. He shifted back to sit down, allowing you to sit up slightly and clear your throat – when your eyes flickered to his lips.

Soft and slightly glossy from his strawberry lip balm. Lush. So pink and pretty and perfect.

"Y/N?"

"Uh huh?"

Your eyes darted back up to his, noting the soft blush on his cheeks in the low light of the television. He looked away, squeezing his eyes shut – when your body took over your mind, your hand softly tilting his jaw back to look at you. Your thumb ran across his lower lip, pulling it down slightly to watch it spring back, your eyes meeting his once more as you pressed the pad of your thumb onto his lips.

Something about his gaze made you feel insane.

And feeling him kiss your thumb while looking into your eyes made you break.

You leaned forward, holding his jaw gently as you pressed your lips against his chastely. He melted in slightly, his hand ghosting over your hip for balance when realization sank into your skin and you pulled away.

"Shit. I'm…Minghao, I'm so–" He didn't let you finish, rolling his eyes as he pulled you towards him by your wrist, kissing you with purpose. You only let out a noise of surprise as he practically manhandled you onto his lap, his hands moving to cradle your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you, his lips soft against yours and making you feel like your very being was about to combust into flames. You couldn't help but tighten your legs around his, feeling him smile against your lips with a soft laugh.

Your hands fisted his shirt as he pulled away from your lips, his hand moving to the nape of your neck and tilting your head back while the other splayed across your thigh. His lips trailed down your jaw, a soft mewl escaping your throat as he nipped at your earlobe.

"Sound so pretty for me, sweetheart."

The light scrape of his teeth against your neck doesn't allow for many words to slip from your lips, only a choked whimper as you carded your fingers through his hair, pulling slightly as he littered gentle nips across the expanse of your neck and chest. His hand in your hand moved to your back, resting just above the zipper of your dress when he looked up at you through his lashes.

"Can I–" "Yes." His fingers carefully pulled the zipper down, the tight flutter sleeves of your dress loosening around your shoulders and falling slightly. Your hand tugged at the knot of his tie as he reconnected your lips, his hands sliding around your waist as you pulled it off and tossed it to the side. Your fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt as his tongue slips into your mouth, his hands moving down slightly and palming your thighs before moving back from your face.

“We should stop, shouldn’t we?” He mumbled against your lips, making you shake your head as your hands fisted his shirt, your thumbs tracing the pearly buttons. Your fingers pulled at the rest of the buttons, tugging the hem of the shirt out from under his slacks as he grabbed your wrists gently.

“Want you to touch me, Hao. Please?” Your voice had a hint of something a little desperate, that same hint shown as a glint in Minghao's eyes as he breathed heavily against your lips. You kissed him chastely, feeling him groan beneath you and let go of your wrists to run his hands up your thighs, his fingertips barely breaching the hem of your dress.

“Wanna feel you. Wanna taste you…fill you up…can I, pretty girl? Will you let me?”

You weren’t sure how you found your voice, but you squeaked out an excited yes anyway. The rest is a blur – him pulling your dress over your head and tossing it to the side, running his hands up and down your body as he meshed your lips with his with a hunger that you couldn't describe. His fingers were cool against your back as he undid the clasp of your bra, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as you whined against him.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop right now." He mumbled, holding your bra together as he looked up at you. Uncertainty flashed in your eyes, and he gave you a soft smile. "Y/N, it's okay. Are you okay?"

He clasps your bra back, his hands moving to tug his shirt off his shoulders and drape it over you. You're silent as you shove your arms through it, and Minghao quietly buttons it for you, before tucking your hair behind your ear gently. "Hey. Talk to me, I'm here." He murmured, and you just tongued your cheek, running a hand through your hair.

"I'm sorry. I thought I'd be ready–"

"Don't. Do not apologize for not being ready, or changing your mind, or anything like that. Not now, not ever, and especially not to me. Okay?"

Your face burned in embarrassment, but it quickly slipped away as Minghao enveloped you in a warm embrace, your own arms wrapping around his neck as he held you close. "You deserve to be more than some rebound, Hao. I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry when there is nothing to be sorry for. We can forget all about this, you know? Just a little kiss. I'm sure lots of friends have kissed and moved on." You weren’t sure you could move on, not when Minghao held you until early morning, his breathing soft against your neck. Not when the two of you inevitably moved into your bedroom and slid under your bed sheets together, Minghao's arms wrapped around your shoulders and suffocating you with his soft cologne that you can't get enough of. 

You spent hours awake while he ran his fingers through your hair, just thinking about the way his lips felt against yours. You found yourself glancing up at him often, his face illuminated by the soft moonlight peeking through your blinds – only to see him staring at the ceiling, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder and you can feel the way his mind just empties as he glances down at you with the softest smile known to man.

"Sleepy?"

Your nod was false, but you didn't care – not when he sighed softly and pulled you into his chest with a mumbled good night.

"Goodnight, Hao."

As for moving on, Minghao wasn't sure he could, either. Not when he woke up in your bed the next morning, surrounded by your scent and your limbs and your skin stuck to his in a way that made him ache confusedly. Not when he was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas he never got back after that first time you stayed over at his apartment. Not when you were already awake, your eyes glued to the soft scar on his eyebrow before you noticed he was awake.

"Hey." "Hey, sweetheart."

Not when he watched you cook something light for lunch for the both of you, in his shirt that you have not returned since that night at his place. Not when you smiled at him with a glint of embarrassment in your eyes, but just barely hidden by comfort, trust, love.

Not when he felt his heart start racing in his chest as he said he'd see you later before he left, swinging his keys in his hand as you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"See you, Hao."

Yeah. Minghao doesn't think he can move on.

FOUR MONTHS AGO…

You and Minghao moved in as the summer grew hotter, the July air sticky as you bickered over whose couch was going to be shoved into the living room. Minghao lost the game of rock-paper-scissors, and his lip curled into a frown as Mingyu came with Tzuyu to haul his couch back to their apartment.

"And you haven't fucked on this, right?" Mingyu asked as he and Minghao took the cushions and tied them together, you and Tzuyu snorting over the jar of lemonade you were preparing. 

You and Tzuyu had become quick friends after you graduated. She helped Mingyu and Wonwoo plan the grand idea of throwing both you and Minghao a small celebration at Seungcheol and Jeonghan's house, inviting the entire staff and other straggling friends. The couple hadn't been too happy about how trashed everyone got and how you accidentally broke one of their lamps, but they congratulated you and Minghao on your graduations and gifted you both an expensive bottle of wine. Wine that you both shared when you got the keys to your shared apartment, tucked away in a cooler full of ice while you both tackled the deep cleaning of the new space. He took the front, and you took the bedrooms and bathrooms. You both emerged sweaty and sticky, grimacing at each other as you settled into Minghao's car on the way to buy paint for the bedrooms and wallpaper.

Neither of you have spoken about that night on your couch. Not that you had to – nothing more came of it. The two of you continued to work together in harmony, you hung out regularly, you flirted with customers – and you ignored the churn of subtle jealousy in your stomach when a customer got any sort of extra attention from him.

You ignored the skip in your heartbeat when his fingers grazed yours in handing you a drink, you ignored the way your stomach flipped during the many times he offered to tie your hair up when it got in the way. You especially ignored the whispers of your coworkers, ones that had only heightened since the party at your Seungcheol and Jeonghan's house – where Minghao was constantly checking in on you, bringing you drinks and adjusting your dress or hair.

So much so that when the party was over and it was just Seungcheol, Jeonghan, you and Minghao – Jeonghan asked. He asked if the two of you were a thing, and Minghao promptly peered over his highball at you. You just shrugged, the words stuck in your throat as Seungcheol shared a glance with Jeonghan.

They then did the diabolical, classic meddling-manager thing: they scheduled ALL of your shifts together.

It then seemed like the entire universe was forcing the proximity – because your car finally kicked the bucket. It would not turn on, not even after you begged Chan at the mechanic shop to give it a good knock on the hood. Because of this, you were now rendered carless – not that it mattered, because your new roommate had a car. Your new roommate, that was also your friend, coworker, and suspected partner by the married couple that owned the restaurant the two of you worked at. Minghao drove the two of you to work every day, his car once parked in front of your old apartment now sitting pretty in front of your shared one. It was domestic, how he slid in front of your apartment and still got out and knocked on your door to let you know he'd arrived – instead of just the regular I'm here text or, your least favorite, the honk. He opened your door, he let you choose the music, he rolled the windows down because you loved the free feeling of the breeze in your hair before you were ultimately forced to go into work-mode in order to withstand the berating of customers and the soreness in your feet.

Upon moving into the apartment, the two of you furnished it by splitting your belongings. Your walnut bookcases, his mahogany dining table. His Persian rugs, his television, his plants, his plates and cups. Your wall decorations, your handmade vases, your choice of wallpaper in the bathroom, your silverware.

His pots. Your pans. His blankets on the couch. Your couch.

"No, Mingyu. I have not had sex on this couch." Minghao scoffed, before peering over his shoulder at you and Tzuyu with a look on his face that reads: Can you believe this guy? You only shrug, biting back a smile as you slip ice cubes into the pitcher, facing Tzuyu. She's already looking at you, and she waits until you tilt your head in curiosity before she whispers.

"How long have you two been a thing?"

You almost choked on your spit. Her eyes were wide as she patted your back, giving a thumbs up to the worried men looking over their shoulders, pausing their unscrewing of the legs off the couch.

"What? Minghao and I are not a thing, Tzu." "Could've fooled me. I've known Minghao for years, and he's never even introduced us to a girlfriend of his. He's so private that way." She murmured, adding a few sprigs of mint into the glass pitcher. 

You glanced over at Minghao, who was listening to Mingyu talk about how Wonwoo got into a scuffle with Seungcheol over the missed truck order at work – when he shivered, his gaze flicking up to you. He gave you a quizzical look, before turning back to Mingyu and acting as if he was paying attention.

"I don't think Hao and I will ever be anything more than good friends. And, well, roommates now. This is genuinely one of the more refreshing friendships I've ever been in. There's zero expectations to be perfect or act like I care about the smalltalk that usually precedes friendships." You shrugged, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the lemonade. You weren't lying, per say. You definitely did not think things would advance between you and Minghao – he was far too…well he was…you know. Ugh!

Minghao was literally fucking perfect. That was the issue. He was perfect, from the careful styling of his hair to the way you'd walk into his bedroom to see him slathering lotion on his arms after a warm shower. And he wasn't just perfect physically, he would not have that mercy upon you – he was perfect on the INSIDE, too.

You'd only been living together for a few weeks at this point – but he'd kept the space clean, far cleaner than you had gotten yourself used to. Your bedroom was already a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, and you'd tripped over an unpacked box several times before kicking it to the side. But Minghao's? Pristine. Everything in its designated spot, his vanity clear of debris and a special spot for his skincare items. He kept a pitcher of water on his nightstand at most, the cup always half filled. His bed was always made neatly, his clothes tucked into his dresser and closet with the utmost care. At most, he'd have his closet door open or have a random jacket thrown over his desk chair – but he was your stark opposite.

"I don't know about that one, Y/N. I think this could be something good, but what do I know?" Tzuyu shrugged, grabbing the tray of glasses and tilting her head for you to grab the pitcher. You wanted to ask her what she meant, what she knew, but you didn't get a chance as Mingyu and Minghao carried the corpse of his stripped couch outside. You held the doorway open more, giving Minghao a quick nod as he wormed past you.

You tried not to look at the flexing of his shoulders beneath the black tank top he donned, squeezing your eyes shut and looking away when you heard Tzuyu snort. You peeled an eye open to see her smirking at you, shaking her head as she set the glasses down on your coffee table. You scowled, setting the pitcher down on the doily and laying on the floor next to the table, grabbing the remote for the television.

The coffee table was the only thing you and Minghao couldn't agree on, and decided to buy it at a thrift store. The one hint of togetherness thus far – as if the mixed aesthetics and belongings weren't enough. It made you laugh a bit, because you knew if and when you moved out, what would be taken with you.

It's like the coffee table is the dog that a couple gets before they split up. Who gets it?

"Y/N, can I see you in the kitchen?" Minghao's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you gave Tzuyu a pained look as you slipped the remote in her hand. Minghao had slipped into the kitchen already as you stood, quickly trekking the living room and sliding in on your socks. He grabbed his keys off the counter, having left them there earlier when he arrived with groceries, before Tzuyu and Mingyu came over for his couch.

"I'm going to help Mingyu get the couch set up at his place, we should be back before dinner. Do you want to order something in and we can pick it up on the way back? My treat." Minghao spoke with his back turned to you as he rummaged through the fruit bowl, before you heard the unmistakable crunch of an apple being bitten into. He looked over his shoulder, and you saw him holding said apple between his teeth, a jump of his brows prompting you to speak.

"You'll be a while though, won't you?"

"I'd never make you wait, Y/N. So? Think about what you want, and text me." He shrugged, ruffling your hair as you swatted his hand away, grabbing his wrist.

"Aren't they staying for dinner? Shouldn't this be a group decision?"

He only used your leverage on his wrist to pull you closer, leaning against the counter and wrapping his arm around your waist. Your eyes widened at the sudden proximity, and you felt your cheeks heat as he peered down at you through his lashes. He smiled at you, eyes searching your face before he clicked his tongue.

"Just tell me what you want, honey. I'll get it done."

He pressed a kiss to your hairline, smoothing your hair down before slipping out of the kitchen. You heard his gentle goodbye to Tzuyu, who hummed in response before the click of the door made his departure evident. Peeking out of the kitchen, you saw Tzuyu smirking to herself, shaking her head as she took a sip of her lemonade.

"C'mon, Y/N. You know you wanna tell me."

Her voice was sing-song, and you groaned inwardly as you walked out of the kitchen and flopped over the back of the couch. You flipped onto the cushions, landing on your back with a grunt from your lips as you draped your arm over your eyes.

"Tzu, nothing is happening between him and I. He is genuinely just my friend. Roommate. Coworker."

She didn't buy it. You could tell by the quirk in her brows and the pointed look in her eyes. She tapped the coffee table with the edge of her glass, swirling the ice before speaking.

"And soon he'll be your boyfriend, fiancé, husband. I have a hunch about these things, Y/N. I know love when I see it."

You only rolled your eyes, snatching the remote back off the coffee table. "Yeah, sure. What do you want to watch? And what do you want for dinner? Hao said they'd bring something back." Tzuyu didn’t push it as the two of you ended up settling on a random episode of Gilmore Girls. You mumbled at each other as you began to pass your phone between the two of you, looking at local restaurants when you heard a ding – a ding specifically applied to Minghao's contact.

"Nothing happening, huh?" Tzuyu wiggled your phone between her fingers, a notification from Minghao up top.

Msg From: Xu Minghao [5:43PM] sweetheart, did you figure out what you want for dinner? [5:43PM] we're almost done over here

You scowled, snatching your phone back as she giggled. "Sweetheart? I don't call my friends that." She teased, and you sighed. "Tzu, can we please drop it?" Your voice is unrecognizable to yourself, ridden with an oddly placed insecurity and Tzuyu's eyes widen slightly before she clears her throat. She nods, tapping the edge of her glass against the table again and looking down at your phone.

Msg From: Xu Minghao [5:45PM] quickly, please. [5:45PM] y/n i can see you reading these!

"I'll drop it for now, but please think about my words. I know it may be hard to believe, but I do think there is more to this than meets the eye. And…I support you, on whatever route you end up taking, in whatever way you end or begin this relationship." You couldn't lie to yourself, her words stuck with you for the rest of the evening. They rang in your head when the pair of men arrived with stacked plates of takeout, and they rang in your head as Minghao served your plate and forbade you from getting up for anything. They rang in your head as you and Mingyu washed the dishes, noting how Mingyu only referred to you by your name in your hushed conversation about you inviting them to stay for a movie.

Not like Minghao, who had even greeted you with a pet name.

They rang in your head as Tzuyu and Mingyu cuddled in the corner seat of your couch during the movie, your chest slightly pained as you noticed the cushion-sized distance between your thigh and Minghao's. They rang in your head every time you noticed Mingyu's lips on his girlfriend's hairline, on her cheek, on her lips…

They rang in your head as you thought back to the night of your graduation, how Minghao's lips kissed you just as gently, but in a way that made you think about it every waking moment of every day. In a way that made you glance at him from across the restaurant when Jeonghan was trying to get your attention to finish your tip-out; in a way that made you remain silent during the rides to and from work by his side.

In a way that made you touch yourself at night, thinking about him, about his hands on your body. So warm, so confident, so caring.

So loving.

"Good night, you two. Drive safe." You stood with your hands in your pockets, your shorts allowing the cool evening breeze to graze your legs. Tzuyu gave you a warm hug as Mingyu opened the door of his old pickup, her lips barely touching the shell of your ear as she whispered.

"Think about it." They drove off within the next five minutes, with you and Minghao standing next to each other in front of your apartment door, waving them off. You glanced up at him, a faint heat coating your cheeks as his hand ghosted over the small of your back, hearing the jingle of his keys being hooked onto your belt loop. You jolted at the weight, swatting him away as he snickered.

"Want to take a walk? The weather feels great."

You hated the way you agreed so quickly, tugging slightly at the neck of your t-shirt, too tight around your throat as your arms brushed. He stood on the side closest to the street, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants as he hummed.

"I got a letter back from the graduate program I applied to. I was waitlisted, so I think I'm going to withdraw and reapply next year. Gives me a chance to save some money, take out less loans." He grimaced, looking up at the darkened sky. You frowned, crossing your arms across your chest.

"I didn't get into mine, if it makes you feel better. I think I'm going to be taking a gap year, so much for being a therapist and letting my parents down yet again. Did I tell you that they told me I wouldn't even be a real doctor? Unbelievable." You sneered, and he shook his head.

"No, that doesn't make me feel better. You deserved to get in. I read your application essay, remember? You're brilliant. I could never imagine being on a board of admissions and not allowing someone with such a passion into my program." He scoffed, and you only snorted. 

"Passion, huh? Shit load of good it does me." You shook your head, kicking a bit of gravel as you made it to the corner of your block. You sucked your teeth as Minghao's arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his side slightly. "You'll have to admit that you're a good person with goals and dreams like everyone else at some point, you know? You've got a big heart, and you want to help the world. It takes a passionate person, a dedicated person, to work in therapy. Do you know how hard it is to sit and listen to people's problems all day and not bring them home with you?" "Bartenders are the therapists of the food and beverage industry, aren't they?" You teased, snickering as he lightly smacked his fingers against your shoulder. "Sorry, sorry." "But you're right, in a way. I do commend you, though, an incredible amount. And your parents…they don't realize what kind of person their daughter is. You're bright. You're kind. You're beautiful in ways I can't even begin to describe, and that doesn't even begin to cover your looks. So let's just…not think about their opinions. You're independent and strong, and I'm always rooting for you." His voice was soothing as he traced circles into your skin, the moonlight illuminating your path as you walked in lockstep with him. You sighed, "So what happens now? We just work our butts off at the restaurant and save our pennies?" "What better to do? We can even set up a little fund to take the odd weekend trip, if you'd like. Roommates do that, right?" He sounded quizzical, and you glanced up to see him already looking at you. Those eyes…

"Well, friends do that, don't they? We're friends before we're roommates." You tried, and he let out a scuff of a laugh, nodding. "Yeah, sweetheart. Friends."

You didn't understand why it pained you to hear him confirm what you already knew, but the stupid pet name sprinkled in definitely made the pang in your chest deeper than you'd expected. His hand was on your shoulder, ringed fingers now dangling over the edge and your eyes glued to the ground. You kicked gravel and dirt as the two of you walked, your tennis shoes scuffed from weeks of moving and roughhousing with furniture.

You were almost in front of your apartment when Minghao made a noise of eureka, his fingers squeezing your shoulder lightly as he spoke.

"Oh, I forgot to mention this earlier, but Jeonghan is asking me to take a few doubles these coming weeks because Seungkwan is going on vacation. They know that we carpool, so I should be able to swing by and bring you to work anyway, but I figured I'd let you know I'll be out of the house for most of the morning." 

You groaned, running your hand through your hair as you nodded.

"Yeah, Cheol talked to me about taking a bunch of morning shifts because Hansol is also going on vacation. I'm not bothered but…" You gave Minghao a wiggle of your brows, making him snort.

"You think they're going together? Romantic getaway…" He swayed you gently, and you snickered to yourself.

"Kiss, kiss, fall in love…sharing appetizers…" You chided as the two of you reached your door. Minghao unhooked his keys from your belt loop, unlocking the door as he shook his head.

"They do that eye-flirting thing, you know? Lots of shared looks, soft whispers and stuff. It's cute, they're a cute pair." He nodded, pushing the door open and allowing you in before he stepped in behind you. You hummed in response, beelining for the empty bags of movie snacks on the coffee table, crumpling them in your hands as you moved around. Minghao joined you, folding the blankets that had been thrown over Mingyu and Tzuyu's laps as well as your shoulders.

Neither of you spoke as you cleaned up the living room, the ending credits of the movie still playing as you stretched your arms over your head, holding the trash in your fists as you walked to the kitchen. You could hear Minghao continue to rustle around, the television turning off and the soft creak of the floorboards grabbing your attention as he skirted into the kitchen. "I'm going to be up early tomorrow, so I'm going to shower first. Is that okay with you?" He moved you away from the trash can, letting you lean on the counter as he took the lid off and grabbed the drawstrings of the bag. You nodded before realizing he couldn't see you and cleared your throat.

"Yeah, sure. That's fine; I have to fix up my bed and stuff in my bedroom. Take your time." You shrugged, watching the muscles in his arms flex as he pulled the trash bag out, tying the plastic drawstrings into a knot before fishing another one out of the box on top of the fridge.

"Are you settling in well? I haven't checked in about it. I know it's quite the drastic change to go from living alone to someone in your space all the time." He sounded sympathetic, but you only shrugged again.

"It's like freshman year of college again. Except this time, I actually like my roommate because you're not kicking me out at odd hours of the night to bang your boyfriend." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. He nodded, biting back a smile when you elbowed him lightly, making him snort.

"I'd never do that. No need to worry about it, pretty." He placed the lid back on the trash can, lifting up the bag and skirting around you. "I'll be back in a second."

Said second turned into ten minutes. Ten full minutes where you rubbed your face in an attempt to bring back a touch of reality, something that would take the attention your mind loved to devote to pet names and affections from your roommate, your friend, your coworker, away.

They say your living space is a reflection of your state of mind. As you wormed your way through stacks of unpacked boxes, clothes strewn on the floor, old textbooks gathering dust in the corners of your room – you kind of agreed.. You grimaced, opting to kick everything out of the way and grabbing a box cutter off your desk and slicing through one of the boxes stacked by your closet. You reached to your desk, flicking the lamp on to see the contents of the heavily packed box.

It opened to photo albums and framed pictures, and you closed your eyes as your hands touched the familiar red leather of your family album. Photos gathered in the tens of you and your parents – at your favorite park in your hometown, at dozens of restaurants where you celebrated birthdays, your parents' anniversary…

A celebration of a perfect report card, time and time again before the 180 spin came, and your parents realized you were leaving your hometown for something bigger. A huge, fancy school in the middle of a metropolitan city, studying Psychology when your mother had pushed for Law or Accounting. Acting like you'd betrayed her trust – and as Mother says, Father does. He too, pushed you aside and acted like you'd scorned him. 

Neither of your parents were lawyers or accountants. They were both high school mathematics teachers, your father in statistics and your mother in economics. Neither of them had a passion for law or accounting – and they both knew of your interest in the medical field, in psychology and the brain.

You found it odd that the success that follows the title of 'Doctor' was not enough for them. That, paired with the rejection letter from your Masters' program, you felt like there wasn't any lower you could get. "Penny for your thoughts?" Minghao's voice was soft, but it still made you jolt and drop the album. You held a hand to your chest, before shaking your head.

"Nah. I'm good. Sorry, uh, about the mess." You gestured to the room, and he only shook his head, his fingers brushing his hair out of his eyes as he looked around a bit. He leaned on your doorway, the hallway light only making your eyes trial his gentle frame.

"Your space, sweetheart. You do what you want with it. I'm going to shower now. Anything you need before I start turning in?"

You shook your head, tapping the leatherbound photo album before smiling pitifully.

"I'm good. Good night, Hao." You expected him to slink away, focusing your thoughts back on the album. You flipped through it, thumbing at photos of you in frilly dresses and Halloween costumes your mother would stitch by hand.

"You can talk to me. You know that, right?" Minghao's voice was right next to your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck. His hand was wrapped around the edge of your desk to keep himself steady, and your face was a bit too close to his as you turned to face him. He was illuminated slightly by the yellow light of your desk lamp, his eyes scanning your features.

"I know. I just…I know." You pursed your lips, casting your eyes back to the album in your hands. "I'll let you know if I ever need to…I don't know. Let off steam, I guess." Your laugh was soft and pathetic, and he hummed, before you felt his hand tuck a stray curl behind your ear. You glanced up at him, only to see him looking at you fondly. "Let off steam, huh?" "Shut up." "As you wish. Good night." He grinned, pushing off your desk and making his way out of your bedroom. 

You spent the next few hours listening to Minghao tinker around in the bathroom before the sounds move to his bedroom, your focus on unpacking the albums onto the bookcase tucked into the corner of your room. You picked clothing up off the floor, tossing the articles into the hamper and you forced yourself to organize your every thought when you heard it. You heard the soft sigh through the wall, and the groan from his throat as his back hit the mattress.

You screwed your eyes shut and grabbed your headphones from the nightstand, plugging them into your phone as quickly as you could before you could hear anything else. You took a deep breath, out through your mouth as the beginning notes of Runnin' by The Pharcyde filled your ears.

So much for good night.

TWO MONTHS AGO…

"I'm so fucking tired, I could keel over right now." Your forehead rested on the back of your hand, which held the ratty broom you used to beat Seungcheol out of a chair only moments earlier. Said man was now sulking behind the bar with Minghao, being comforted by the bartender with a fruity cocktail.

"Don't sulk, she's just doing her job." Minghao patted him on the back as the older man frowned, wrapping his pouty lips around the swirly straw stuck in the mango daiquiri. You glanced over your shoulder at Jeonghan, who was only shaking his head as he clicked away on the calculator with your tips surrounding him in neat piles.

"Honey, unless you want to sweep for Y/N–" Jeonghan started, flipping a pen through his fingers as Seungcheol shook his head, taking his drink off the bar and making his way across the restaurant. "Nope! I'll be in the office."

You snickered to yourself as you saw Jeonghan watch him walk away, eyes low and full of nothing but love. He rolled his eyes, drawing his attention back to the money on the table as Tzuyu slid into a barstool with her cheek in her hand. Minghao leaned over, waving his fingers in her face.

"Why so glum, Tzu?"

He stopped wiping the counter down to listen to her as you skirted your way over to Jeonghan, pulling the chair beside him out and slumping down into it. Jeonghan doesn't look up from the calculator, his fingers gingerly thumbing through the dollar bills when you make a noise of curiosity.

"Yes, Y/N? How can I help you?"

"How long have you and Mr. Choi been together?" You asked gently, watching Jeonghan bite back a smirk. He shakes his head, tilting it to the side before meeting your eyes.

"You don't have to call him Mr. Choi, Y/N. You can just call him Cheol."

"Fine. How long have you been with Cheol, Mr. Yoon?" You smiled cheekily, earning a scoff as Jeonghan flicked your forehead softly. "Jeonghan, answer the question!"

"We dated for three years before we got engaged. Then we were engaged for two years before we got married, and we got married two years ago. Seven years together and counting, unless you also involve how long he made me court him." Jeonghan's blush doesn't go unnoticed as he runs a hand through his hair, and you cooed.

"How did you guys meet?" Jeonghan snorts, tonguing his cheek before sighing and thumbing through another stack of bills.

"Any particular reason as to why you've got so many queries tonight, Y/N? You've been working here for almost a year and you've never cared before." His brow is quirked as you hear the heavy office door open across the restaurant, a flushed Seungcheol ducking into the kitchen with his empty cup. Jeonghan sends him a wink, making the older man shake his head in disbelief.

"I just think you guys are cute. You don't see many couples around here, the dating pool has gotten so icky." You scoffed, twirling the broom handle in your hand as Jeonghan hums in agreement.

"I've known Seungcheol since we were kids. We drifted after middle school because I wound up moving across the city, and we lost contact. We met up again here, in this restaurant, right before we were set to graduate college. Funny, really." Jeonghan smiled inwardly, watching as you leaned in slightly.

"You guys worked here together?"

"Yup. He was a bartender, I was a waiter." Jeonghan gave you a pointed look, before his eyes flickered to Minghao. The man was talking to frowning Tzuyu, his brows furrowed as he whispered what you assume to be his opinion on her dilemmas. "Cheol was actually really shy, believe it or not. He's not the big Rottweiler type, despite his physique. More like…a feisty barn cat." "So…you chased him? For how long?" You watched as Mingyu and Seungcheol walked out of the kitchen with their arms crossed, seemingly discussing something serious. Seungcheol's jaw was tight, and Mingyu's shoulders were full of stress as he draped his apron over one of them. Seungcheol glanced over at Jeonghan, a sympathetic look in his eye as he tilted his head in the direction of the office.

"For all three years that we worked here. And I continue to do it, he likes it." Jeonghan nodded, gathering your tips for you and snapping them together in a blue rubber band. He held them out to you, gathering his belongings in his other hand as you took it. "Of course, not every couple that gets together here, stays together. These walls have seen many of my fights with Cheol, and vice versa. There's no limit. Exhibit A." Jeonghan gestured to Tzuyu, who was angrily typing on her phone while Mingyu held back tears as he muttered back and forth with Seungcheol. Sighing, Jeonghan ruffled your hair before skirting away and meeting Seungcheol and Mingyu in the office. You stood, leaning your weight on the broom before feeling eyes on you.

Minghao was staring right at you, before his eyes flickered to Tzuyu. You grimaced, stuffing your tips in your back pocket before sliding up to the bar.

"So…what's got you so upset?"

"Mingyu." As it turns out, maybe the restaurant owner knew far more than he let on. Mingyu and Tzuyu had gotten into an argument while she helped him with dishes – about work. The two of them were stressed, knowing that they usually made rent with their hefty amount of hours at the restaurant – however, it left little time in the week for each other. Mingyu being the best cook of the three that worked at the restaurant made things even harder, seeing as he was constantly being called in if Seungcheol or Jeonghan weren't able to fill in.

It left Tzuyu feeling pushed aside, but Mingyu could argue the same. The last three hostesses that had been hired had to be let go due to their attendance inconsistencies, leaving Tzuyu to rush to work at the last minute. It created a small rift in their relationship, and Tzuyu finally gave the ultimatum: work or her. Mingyu hadn't replied.

No choice is a choice, a silent one. 

And usually, the wrong one.

"I'm sorry." You murmured, smoothing her long hair with your hand as she slumped against the bar.

"Why? If anything, I feel like we should be able to work through this. We should be able to find time for each other even with our busy schedules. You and Minghao can do it, why can't we?" She groaned, resting her forehead against the cold bar. You sighed, running your fingers through her hair when the office door opened again – Mingyu was sitting at the desk and frustratedly wiping his face as Jeonghan called for Tzuyu softly.

"Go. We'll wait here." Minghao assured her, crossing his arms on the bar as you nodded in agreement. She took a deep breath, trekking the restaurant quickly and ducking into the office as Jeonghan shut the door.

"What does she mean, you and I can do it?" You questioned, reaching into your back pocket and separating the bundle of bills that would go into Minghao's wallet. He shrugged and smiled softly, wiggling his fingers as you held the wad of cash out to him.

"It means we work well together. Don't you think we make a good pair?" Minghao raised his eyebrows at you, making you roll your eyes as you continued to sweep aimlessly around the bar. 

"I guess so. Hey, your birthday is coming up soon, right?" You crouched to get the swept trash onto the handheld dustpan, watching as Minghao shrugged again and turned to the cooler. He opened it, taking out your can of orange juice before speaking again.

"Hardly. It's barely September, my birthday isn't for another two months." He shook his head, and you scoffed as you made your way to the trash can. You dump the contents of the dustpan before glancing up at him with a suspicious look in your eye.

"Don't tell me you're one of those people that works on their birthdays, are you?" The way he tongues his cheek is enough of an answer for you, making you shake your head as you replace the broom and dustpan behind the bar. You skirt around him to the sink, washing your hands as you click your tongue. "That's not happening this year. We have to celebrate." "Like hell it's not. I make the most tips on my birthday, Y/N." He grabbed his jacket from the hook behind him, shrugging it over his shoulders as you dried your hands. "Plus, Jeonghan knows I won't take no for an answer when it comes to working on my birthday. I'll be here from five to closing."

You rolled your eyes again, before feeling his arm snake around your waist. It'd been almost a year of this – soft, casual touching, hushed praises, kisses to the forehead…

It was all so intimate. Nothing he did felt like friendship anymore, but you weren't complaining.

"Why do you care so much, anyway? You want to celebrate with me?" "Obviously, jackass. You're my best friend." You swatted him away, only to be pulled closer into his chest. You groaned, your hands splayed across his chest as he smiled down at you.

"What an upgrade, should I be honored?" You scoffed, pushing him a bit but he didn't budge. For a second, you think he glances at your lips.

"Tell you what, pretty. I'll work my shift, and we can celebrate after. Just you and me." His hand squeezed your side gently, his eyes expectant of something – but you know you could say nothing and he'd still understand. He once told you that he thinks humans misunderstand almost everything…

And sometimes it is better to observe, and listen – than speak.

"Get away from me before I twist your nipple off." You spoke through gritted teeth, only making him get slightly closer to your face. His lips nearly brushed your nose, and you narrowed your eyes as you pushed his jacket out of the way. He jerked away, crossing his arms over his chest and feigning a shocked look as you grinned.

"I cannot believe you'd hurt me! Wow, some best friend you are!"

"Are you always this dramatic?" You teased, sticking your tongue out at him as you skirted back out from behind the bar. He turned his nose up at you, waving you off with his hand. Your eyes darted to the maroon gel manicure you'd given him earlier that day, and you bite back your grin before taking your can of orange juice off the bar.

"Let's go, yeah? I'm tired." You pouted, shaking the can gently before tilting your head towards the front door. He huffed, tightening his jacket around his body as he sauntered out from behind the bar – nearly tripping when the sound of the office door being slammed against the brick of the walls startled you.

Tzuyu stormed out, her red coat held in her hand as she ducked her head down. Presumably to hide a face full of tears, covered by the swing of her caramel hair.

You looked back at Minghao, his eyes worried as he watched her slip out the front door. Mingyu appeared as the door nearly shut, with Jeonghan and Seungcheol holding guilt in their eyes. "I'm sorry, Mingyu. If we had known–" "You couldn't have. It's fine. I'll figure it out." Mingyu looked defeated, and you elbowed Minghao lightly as he sidled up next to you. "Drive Tzuyu home." You muttered, tucking your orange juice in your shirt pocket as Minghao swung his keys.

"Divide and conquer, huh? I'll see you at home, pretty." Minghao ruffled your hair, before quickly pressing a light kiss to your hairline. "Be safe, okay?"

He was gone before you could say anything.

You sighed to yourself, seeing the three men in the office watching Minghao slink out without you. Jeonghan looked around Mingyu's frame, his brow raised as you winked, cracking open your orange juice and walking towards them.

"Gentlemen. It appears my chauffeur has taken his leave without letting me know." You shrugged, and Mingyu sighed as you held your hand out. The friendship between the two of you had grown exponentially during the last few months, and you found yourself gossiping with him in the kitchen if Minghao was busy or Tzuyu wasn't at her podium.

He handed his keys over without a word, Seungcheol's eyes full of guilt as he patted the younger man's shoulder. "We'll see you next week, Gyu." You didn't bother with goodbyes, the married couple giving you curt nods as they followed behind you. Minghao's car was no longer in the parking lot, and you beelined for Mingyu's without a second thought. Seungcheol locked the front door of the restaurant, and you felt Jeonghan's eyes on your back as you climbed into the lifted pickup truck.

Mingyu was silent as you fiddled with his radio, cranking the ignition before sucking in a breath. "You wanna–"

"How do you and Minghao do it?"

You blinked, absently turning out of the parking lot and pulling off into the main road. "How do we…do what?"

Mingyu was frustrated, tossing his baseball cap onto the dash with a huff. He slumped in the passenger seat, crossing his arms over his chest before peering up at you through teary eyes.

"Work together and go home together without bringing any of the work problems with you. It's like we're constantly being pushed and pulled. If I'm not being called in, she is. I'm not saying it's a bad business decision by Jeonghan or Seungcheol, but she gets tired, too. I know she's great at her job, but she won't be here forever. Her potential is far greater than just greeting people who don't even deserve to be graced with her presence."

You hummed, fiddling with the turn signal.

"I wish I could help, Mingyu! However, Minghao and I–"

"Oh, come on. You're going to tell me you're just friends? That you haven't, even for a moment in time, though what it would be like to be together? You're saying that neither of you have ever gotten just entirely too close and almost kissed?" You felt your face grow hot as Mingyu sat up in his seat, leaning slightly over the center console as you slowed to a halt at a red light. You made the mistake of glancing over, seeing an expectant gaze on your friend's face. He watched intently as you rubbed your face in frustration, running your hands through your hair as you scoffed.

"Okay, fine. Minghao and I…there is truly nothing there, I can promise you that." You began, clearing your throat as you stared out the windshield to the fiery red light. Mingyu tilted his head, sort of like a puppy, as you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily. "Sometimes, I think we could be more. I don't like him, and he doesn't like me…but he certainly goes above and beyond for our friendship. I can say that for all of his friendships, though, because Minghao is just that kind of guy, you know? Kind, observant, sweet." "It confuses you." "This is supposed to be a therapy session for you, not me." Mingyu snorted, shaking his head. "Okay, fine. How do you and Minghao not fight?" "Because we're not together. We're friends, and we're roommates. We don't have that expectation of having to spend time together, because sometimes just brushing past one another when we're at work is enough. Sometimes waking up in the middle of the night to pee but having to wait because he's in the restroom is enough. Sometimes walking to the laundromat together is enough." You shrugged, before sighing. 

"When Hansol and Seungkwan were on vacation and we were pulling all those double shifts, he showed me that I could depend on him. He'd make breakfast before he left for work, and then come to pick me up for my shift. We did that for two weeks, and by the end of it, we were both exhausted. He never made me feel like I owed him anything, much less my time." You turned to face him, "You and Tzuyu have been together for three years. If you keep having the same fight, over the same thing. If the issue is that you don't spend enough time together, I think you should tackle that. Take a vacation, the restaurant won't burn down without you. Save your relationship." Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair before slumping once more. "I miss spending time with her. You know the last time we actually spent time together as a couple was when we went to pick up Minghao's couch? I don't think we've been able to even have a date night since."

You gaped, reaching over to smack his arm lightly. "Mingyu!" "I know, I know. God, and we were supposed to have a date night tomorrow, too, but Wonwoo is sick and Jihoon already asked for the night off." He rubbed his face in frustration, and the words slipped from your lips as you pulled into your apartment complex. "Call out. Minghao and I have the day off tomorrow, we can fill in." You blurted, and Mingyu scoffed. "Y/N, I couldn't ask you to do that." "You're not, I'm offering." You didn't let him continue to speak, instead turning his engine off and sliding out of his truck. Minghao and Tzuyu were sitting on your front steps, his jacket draped over her shoulders as she wiped her eyes. You felt the heat of Mingyu's body behind you, and Tzuyu didn't look up as you cleared your throat. Minghao glanced at you, his eyes heavy with expectation as you twitched your head in the direction of the apartment. "I lost my key."

You snorted, digging yours out of your pocket and shoving them into his hand. "Come in, we'll have a nightcap. Then you guys can go home and have a good night together, yeah?" Minghao seemed to understand as he opened the door and let the couple in. Tzuyu sat on the far end of your couch, and Mingyu didn't even bother sitting down – he beelined straight for your kitchen. You grabbed Minghao's arm lightly, pulling at his sleeve carefully and tilting your head towards his room. He nods, following behind you as you skirt into the pristine bedroom.

"I may have…fucked up." You start, making Minghao shake his head with a gentle smile. "Nah. I'm sure you said the same things I did. Spend time together, stop working so much, you and I are not together." He rolled his eyes as he tugged his jacket off, draping it over the back of his desk chair. His eyes scan your face, before his smile drops and his brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong, honey?"

"I did…say all of that…" You grimaced, rubbing your neck sheepishly. "But I also…may have volunteered you and I to take their shifts tomorrow." "Y/N." He groaned, and you winced slightly, your hands coming to hold his. He allowed it, his eyes boring into yours as you tried to apologize.

"I know it was our only day off this week, Hao. I'm sorry, but I–" "You could've asked me first." He didn't sound mad, but disappointed. You felt like you were going to get scolded by your father. You shrank back a bit, and you could feel guilt spreading in your body as he sighed. You grimaced at the sting of tears filling your eyes, but bit them back.

"Are we doing rock-paper-scissors to see who takes what? Did you even call Jeonghan?" He moved his hands from yours, running one through his hair before crossing his arms. You shook your head in silence, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment before nodding. He held his hand out, yet another despondent sigh slipping from his lips. "Loser takes Mingyu's shift. Best out of three." "Minghao, I can just find someone else to do it. I'm sorry."

"Best. Out. Of. Three." You tongued your cheek, losing quickly to the tall man in front of you. Scissors, scissors, paper to his rock, rock, scissors.

"You're driving tomorrow." He muttered, rubbing his face with his hands before you nodded, looking anywhere but him and moving to slip out of his bedroom. He shook his head, standing in front of the door. "I'm not upset." "Okay." "Y/N." "What?"

His hands reach for your shoulders, and you kept your eyes casted elsewhere. His fingers are warm as they tilt your chin to look up at him, forcing you to try and blink back the tears when he rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheek. "I'm sorry for snapping. It wasn't my intention but I can tell I've hurt your feelings, and I never want to hurt your feelings." His voice was soft, and you felt your throat tighten slightly. You weren't too sure why you were even crying, maybe it was reminiscent of being scolded for trying to do the right thing.

"I'm sorry, honey." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his chest. He smells like pink pepper and the essence of pomegranates, mixed with a hint of the maple butter rum one of the regulars likes to knock back. It's oddly comforting. "Forgive me." "It's fine. I should've asked." "Yes, you should have. However, that's not the point here."

Minghao pulled back slightly, pointing his finger in your face. You huffed, but he raised his brows at you – as if to say, listen. Be quiet.

"You need to call Jeonghan and let him know. If we're going to work tomorrow, I need to spend time with you tonight." You must've looked taken aback, because he only smiled. He pinched your cheek lightly, before humming and opening his door. "Go on, call him. We'll be in the living room." Either you'd been too out of it to fully process, or Jeonghan had truly had you on the phone explaining all your qualifications to run a kitchen as a head chef. You didn't have many, just the few nights you flipped burgers at a diner back in high school – but it seemed enough to settle Jeonghan. He let you know there was going to be a trainee chef with you named Joshua, as well as the kitchen manager named Seokmin.

Jeonghan also let you know that Tzuyu's shift started earlier than Mingyu's, so someone would have to go get you. He volunteered Seungcheol, and you could hear the man begin to protest in the background but he hung up before anything could be truly said.

You ducked out of Minghao's room to see him folding blankets in the living room, soft music playing on the television as he glanced up. He smiled, and you noticed the two cups on the coffee table. One tainted with lipstick from Tzuyu, and what seemed to be one filled with water? Soju? Rum? Something.

"Tzuyu is driving. She had some of your juice, I hope that's alright." He nodded, and you waved it off. You turned to the television, No One Noticed by The Marías playing softly as he hummed along. "Did Jeonghan say it was okay? I was trained to be a host and a waiter before I was a bartender, but you just jumped into waitressing, right?" "I had a part-time gig in high school at a diner. I have some, but not a lot." You shrugged, and he made an o-shape with his lips as he smoothed the folded blanket over the back of the couch. You nodded, before checking your watch. "It's only fifteen to eleven, do you wanna sit with me? Decompress a bit before we go to bed?" "Your version of decompressing is watching Bob's Burgers and sipping a beer." "We can sip something else, if that's the case." He rolled his eyes, biting back a smile as he nodded. "I have to change."

You both ended up returning to your respective rooms, and you hastily wiped your makeup off. Pajama shorts, your favorite baggy t-shirt that boasted of Bigfoot's existence…not the first thing you would wear to hang out but it's Minghao. You stared at yourself in the vanity mirror on your dresser, but heard your roommate knock on your door before your mind could wander too far about where all he could kiss you, in said stupid Bigfoot shirt.

"Are you taking a shower first tonight? Or are we going to fight for it again?" Minghao asked gently, and you shrugged.

"Go for it. I go in later than you do tomorrow, Tzuyu's shift starts at four." You wiggled your brows, and he scoffed, turning on his heel and beelining for the living room. You snickered to yourself, scampering after him as he flopped onto the couch. He draped an arm over his eyes, letting out a groan as you leaned over the back of it. "Want a beer, Mr. I don't drink?" He lifted his arm slightly, his eyes peering out at you from beneath it. "You drink like a fish, you know that?" "Is that a no?" "...Fine, I'll have a beer. Just one!" You cheered sarcastically, scurrying into the kitchen and grabbing two from the fridge. You peered at the bottle of Soju, mocking you from the shelf.

"Did you get lost in the fridge?" You heard Minghao call from the living room, making you scoff as you grabbed the bottle of Soju and tucked it under your arm. The piercing cold of the glass bottle made you shiver as you walked back into the living room. He was now skipping through movie recommendations on Netflix, his eyes darting back and forth across the screen.

"I said we could sip something else, I never said we'd be changing our entertainment of the night." You scoffed, sliding the drinks onto the coffee table as he smirked lazily. 

"You're right, honey." He flipped the remote in his hand, holding it out to you as you shook your head. You cracked open the beers, handing him one before perching on the edge of the couch in front of him. His stomach is warm against your lower back, and you try to ignore the way the blue light of the television makes his arms glow. 

Your eyes trailed up to his face, watching the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips before bringing the beer bottle to them. He continued to flip through suggestions, before you snapped out of your daze to hear him reading the summary to Ali Wong's Always Be My Maybe.

"...Feel the old sparks of attraction but struggle to adapt to each other's worlds. Interesting." He set his beer back on the coffee table. You snorted, "This is two hours long, Hao."

"You have somewhere to be?" He scoffed, pressing Play. You shook your head, feeling his hand tug at the back of your shirt, signaling for you to lean back. You did, resting your elbow on the back of the couch before reaching for the bottle of soju. "Can I have a sip?" You nodded silently, watching the two children on the television grow up to the sound of Young Americans by David Bowie. You held the uncapped bottle over to him, feeling his hand take it as Marcus' father let the now-teenagers know that tragedy had struck the Kim family. You felt your heart sink as the scene changed to something more somber, hearing Minghao hum to himself and mumble slightly. "This is sad as hell, it just started." You couldn't help but snort, taking the bottle back from him and taking a sip. You glanced over to see his ears slightly perked at the sound of D'Angelo's How Does It Feel, before his eyes met yours. "I'll bet you ten bucks they're going to kiss." "It's not a bet when you already know what the outcome is going to be." You scoffed, making him laugh softly. "See? They're already struggling to get in the backseat, I would've been out ten bucks if I took you up on that." "Call it gas money." He lightly pinched your side, making you jerk away from him. You swatted his hand away, sliding the bottle onto the coffee table with a scowl.

"First of all, I tried to give you gas money a few weeks ago and you cussed me out."

"I did not cuss you out! I merely asked what in the most significant fuck you thought you were doing."

"Oh, what a colorful way–" "Shut up before I tickle you." You huffed, feeling his fingertips dig into your side. He smiled up at you, gently squeezing the softness of your skin before patting it. "The point is, I'd never ask you for gas money. Let's be realistic." You nodded, struggling not to roll your eyes as he fully stopped paying attention to the movie, his head rested on his palm as Sasha cried in the walk-in fridge. "What happened with Mingyu? Tzuyu was a mess." "It's just odd to me that everyone thinks we're a thing? Mingyu asked me how you and I didn't bring home our work problems–"

"And you told him that we don't have that expectation of having to spend time together because we're not together. We're just friends." Minghao interrupted, his eyes serious as he spoke. You cleared your throat, nodding. "I don't agree with that." "Oh? You don't?" You felt your brows high on your forehead as you looked down at him, feeling his hand pat your back before he used it to run his fingers through his hair. "And why not?" "Because I like spending time with you. Why do you think I was upset earlier when you told me you volunteered us for the shifts?" "You said you weren't upset." "Sometimes people lie." "Oh, so you're a liar?" You leaned slightly closer, and he smirks. 

"While normally I'd apologize, I think I was right to do that. I was upset because now I don't get to spend the day with you tomorrow, and I lied because I didn't want you to cry. I don't like seeing you sad, it makes me sad." He shrugged, and you tongued your cheek.

"Romantic, aren't you?" You rolled your eyes, "My feelings are your feelings and your feelings are mine. All that jazz." "You don't have to brush off my affections as something romantic, you know. I can care about you openly and not have feelings for you in that way." "So you're saying you don't have romantic feelings for me?" "Never said that. I said I can." He lilted, reaching for his beer. You felt your cheeks grow hot as he sipped it, his eyes wide as he looked back over at you. "Woah, you would've thought I said I eat babies for a living. Are you okay?" "W-What did you and Tzuyu talk about?" You stuttered, making his brow quirk in confusion as he set his beer back down. 

"She asked me if you and I ever fight about work. I said no, because the beginning of our…friendship has always been this way. Too close for other people's comfort, very…advanced, in a way. We don't have spats over things that don't really matter, because work…it doesn't affect our dynamic." "Why did you hesitate before 'friendship?'"

"What?" "Before you said friendship. You paused. Why?" Minghao's eyes narrowed slightly, before he shrugged. "I paused when I said it with Tzuyu, as well. I guess…I don't know. I think back to what happened in your apartment, I take into consideration the way we speak to each other and kind of dance around the flame that could be something. I'm not saying it ever has to become a fire, the flame. But, it's definitely there." You felt your stomach flip slightly as you cleared your throat, reaching for your beer. You brought it to your lips, but didn't manage to take a sip before you sighed, putting it back down and tilting to face him. "We never talk about that night. Did you tell Tzuyu about it?" "No. That's not her business." He answered quickly, his eyes glancing at the television. Sasha and Marcus were now laying in bed together, staring at the ceiling. "I didn't think you'd be very fond of me telling her, either. I figured that if you didn't mention it while I helped Mingyu take the couch, it wasn't something you'd want shared." You shifted slightly, tucking your foot under your leg as you looked at him. “Do you think that is something we should share?”

“It’s not about my reputation though, is it? I don’t care what people think of me.” He shrugged, running his fingers through his hair once more. “But I care about what people say when it comes to you. I don’t like hearing others speak ill of you.”

“Would people knowing we almost slept together cause them to speak about me in a negative light?” You questioned, your hands fumbling for the bottle of soju. You offered it to him, and he took a small sip as he hummed.

“Maybe. Considering the fact that we are now roommates, and you constantly deny that there is anything between us.”

“As if you don't do the same.” “I don’t.”

“What?” Your eyes went wide as he held the bottle back out to you. You took it, bringing it to your lips as he shrugged.

“The customers like you, they think you’re sweet. The customers like me, and a few of them have asked if we’re a thing. I usually deflect…but I don’t think it’d be the worst thing in the world.”

“What? Us?” “Is there an us?”

You glanced at the television, the actors staring fondly at each other. They inch in for a kiss...two…

“Y/N.” “Sorry.”

Minghao was looking at you intently, his eyes searching your face as he moved your hair off your shoulder. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. It’s getting late.”

“Did you like it? The…uh, in my apartment?” You blurted, but Minghao showed no sign of surprise. In fact, he seemed to welcome the question, his eyes soft as he nodded.

"The kiss? Of course I did. I'm just not…used to it, I guess. I'm not a casual kind of guy. I was nervous, actually." He nodded, his thumb toying with the ring on his forefinger. You nodded carefully, fiddling with the spout of the soju bottle as you cleared your throat. "Nervous?" "Obviously. At that point, we were just starting to solidify our friendship. You had just gotten done with Jaehyun only a few months prior, and you literally signed the lease for this place that day. I was scared if we kept going, things would change. I enjoy your company, I enjoy your friendship…" He trailed off, clearing his throat as he seemingly shook off a feeling of something. "I didn't want things to go further if nothing was going to come from it, but more importantly, if it made you uncomfortable." "I wasn't uncomfortable. I just wasn't ready. I didn't want you to be a rebound. You deserved more." "You don't think I know what I deserve?" "I would hope that you do, and that you know it's not me. At least, not at that point in time." You muttered, hearing him scoff as he took the bottle of soju from your hand. "Hey!" "Is for horses. Are you hearing yourself right now?" He straightened up, carefully sitting up and adjusting himself to sit next to you. He folded his legs, and you did the same to face him fully. Your knees brushed his sweatpants, and you leaned back on your hands, toying with the seam of your couch cushion. "Are you?" "Minghao–"

"You're amazing, Y/N. Stop trying to put yourself down, or act like you're not someone who deserves everything. You're soft and sweet and one of the kindest people I've ever come across. You offered to work someone's shift on your day off, not because you want the money, no; because you want them to spend time together and help their relationship continue to flourish. You think anyone just does that?" He scoffed, and you cleared your throat, shrugging.

"It's not that serious." "Stop that! It is that serious, Y/N! You're so gentle and loving, and you are such a warm person to have around. The room practically lights up when you walk in, haven't you seen how excited the regulars at work get when they find out you're serving them? Haven't you seen how easily you make Seungcheol and Jeonghan laugh? Don't you understand how appreciated you are, even just within our friends and our coworkers? Are you that blind?"

He leaned forward, his hands settled on either side of your thighs as he spoke. "You have got to start recognizing that you're more than what you see. Other people don't matter, for the love of God, I promise they don't. You are so, so beautiful. I don't know how else to make you understand that."

"You don't need to make me understand anything. You're my friend." "What if I want more?" He murmured, and you felt your cheeks grow hot as you cleared your throat, your eyes darting around his face. His own were full of sincerity, dark with determination to understand you. 

You couldn't help the way you leaned closer, your heart thundering in your ears as he tilted his head. "Do you?" He inched closer, so close you could feel his breath on your lips. "Are you drunk?"

"No." "Tipsy?"  "No." He hummed, "We work tomorrow." "Minghao." "That's my name, pretty."

You scoffed, jutting your lip in a pout as he smiled. His hand was gentle as he brushed the hair away from your face, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. His thumb stopped at the lobe, tugging lightly at the diamond earrings he got you for graduation. "Nice earrings." "You would know, you got them for me." You mumbled, making him stifle a laugh as he nodded.

"I know. You always look so pretty when you wear them." He murmured back, and you scrunched your nose. "So you don't think I look pretty all the time?"

He smiled, his thumb lightly stroking your jaw as he moved away from you. "You said you'd shower first, I'll clean up here."

For whatever reason, you listened. You nodded in silence, your hand fumbling for the remote and turning the television off as he slid off the couch. He took the half-empty beer cans in his hands, offering holding the now-empty bottle of soju under his arm.

"Goodnight, Y/N. Rest well."

PRESENT – 3:15AM…

Minghao can't sleep.

His room is a mess, the door locked behind him as he shuffles through the piles of clothes on the floor. They say your room is a reflection of your state of mind, and it's true – he can't think, he can't sleep, hell…

He can't breathe without thinking of you. 

The two of you worked that shift for Mingyu and Tzuyu two months ago, and it was the worst shift of his life. He spent the entire time thinking about you, about the conversation you'd had the night before. Hoping you'd give him that longing glance you'd nailed perfectly in the time he'd known you, hoping he'd get to kiss you breathless and hoping you'd yearn for him the way he did you.

Instead, he shook it off. He stood at the host stand, greeting customers softly and seating them. He did his closing duties without even seeing a glimpse of you, until you walked out of the kitchen with a grin on your lips as you bid the trainee chef, Joshua, a goodnight.

He remembers the way your smile became something softer as he opened the passenger side door, how you let him buckle your seatbelt in for you and thanked him gently. He remembers how you offered to let him shower first as he peeled out of the parking lot, and how he scoffed and said you should go first. 

He remembers how you asked, again, what you would do for his birthday. He replied the same thing he had before – just you, and him. After his shift.

A shift he did not end up working, because you put in for him to have the day off and argued with Jeonghan until you were blue in the face. Minghao didn't know until the schedule was stapled onto the bulletin board the following week, his eyes almost instantly finding you across the kitchen. You had been eagerly talking to Seungcheol, making him laugh as you overanimated whatever story you'd told him.

He didn't say anything as the days went on, only quietly waited in his bedroom until you came in the morning of his birthday with breakfast on a TV tray. The two of you spent the entire day together and you initiated all contact – your arms wrapped around his waist from behind as he made lunch, resting your cheek on his bare back. You squeezed his sides, you cuddled him into the couch cushions as you watched Josee, the Tiger and the Fish. You made him dinner, you presented him with a few gifts and a new tea set he'd been eyeing for ages. 

You kissed his hairline, wishing him a happy birthday over a bottle of soju that he took two sips of. Two sips too much, as his lips ghosted over yours as you spoke to each other about nothing – too close, but he saw the way you held yourself back. He saw the way you wanted to kiss him, the way your hands clenched at your sides as you forced yourself to move away.

He wishes you would've kissed him.

His birthday had passed, you were nearing the end of November. This time last year, you'd asked him for a Guinness, with the most solemn look on your face.

This time last year, he drove you home for the first time and understood you'd be in his life, hopefully forever. He hadn't worked today, but dropped you off and picked you up – and you had a rough day. You talked about it – one of your regulars had a bad day and took it out on you, sending her food back three times and your tips had been nothing like what you usually made. You'd been snippy, and he prepped your shower for you, tossing a lavender steamer into it. You thanked him, and holed yourself away in your bedroom ten minutes to midnight.

He laid awake, thinking about you.

You'd long gone to bed, your soft breathing the only sound when he slid past your slightly opened door. You looked serene – your cheek squished against your pillow, soft lips gently puckered as you snuggled deeper into your sage green blanket. Your hair splayed all around, the moonlight seeping in through the drawn blinds and casting lines across your face.

He misses you, and you're no more than a ten-foot walk away. He wants to talk about his feelings, he wants to hold you close and he wants to stop losing his mind over how badly he wants you.

How badly he needs you.

He sighed as he looked around his room, the mess only digging into his very bones. He should've just spoken to you about his feelings all those weeks ago. He should've said yes, he did want more. He thinks about you romantically. He thinks about that night on your couch more times than he could count, tugging at his hair in frustration as he tries to bury the memories deep in the past.

He can't. He can't think about anything but you in that pretty white dress at his graduation party, talking to his parents with such ease. The relaxed state of your shoulders as you spoke to everyone with a gentle smile on your lips, the warmth in your laughter never leaving as you danced with him and Junhui. 

The way your eyes filled with something else as his parents asked you if there was something more between you and him, and his chest feeling tight when you insisted it wasn't the case. The way he could see the subtle disappointment in your face when he did the same…

He wants to understand you. He wants you to understand him, to observe him, to see him.

See him as more than just a friend, and he knows you do.

Whether it was a crush, or limerence…he doesn't care. He wants one chance at living life with you – coming home from work to sleep in the same bed and hold you close all night. To come home from a grueling shift and stand under the burning hot shower with you, feeling his muscles lose their tension with the heat and your gentle touch. To come home and make you a nice cocktail and a filling dinner. To come home and study with you, eventually. To come home and see you asleep on the couch, and getting to carry you to bed.

To come home, to you. Over and over again. 

"Fuck." He groans, slumping against his headboard and jolting at the cold of the wood against his shoulders. A sigh left his lips as he slid down slightly, tugging the duvet higher over his hips as he reached for his phone. He unlocked it, opening his gallery with a pout on his lips.

You, in your white dress at his graduation party. His mother took this photo – your hand had been on his chest, his high on your waist as you both smiled into the camera. Your lips had been reglossed, so pretty and glittery…

And your smile had been so bright, like the events earlier that day hadn't transpired. Like you hadn't pursed your lips together when calling your parents and getting sent straight to voicemail. Like you hadn't blinked back tears three times during lunch with him and Junhui, like he hadn't seen Junhui angrily calling your parents while you ducked into the ladies room after Minghao offered to foot the bill.

You had been truly at ease during that photo, much different than you had felt that entire day.

And he wants every single day to be like that for you – easy. Easy, with your independence but still letting him gently aid when he could see you needed it. Needed him. He wants to take you home and introduce you as his life partner, he wants to see you succeed in your dreams and have you by his side as he did the same.

He wants you to be happy.

"Minghao? Are you awake?" Your voice was heard before the soft raps of your fist against the door. He jumped, knocking his head on the wooden bedframe. His hand covers his mouth as he rubs the crown of his head, a hiss falling from his lips as he hears you mumble from the other side of the door. He locks his phone, tossing it onto the dresser as he slid out from under his duvet. He grabs a pair of sweatpants off the floor, grimacing to himself as he tugs them on before opening his door.

You look half awake, your hands clutching at the hem of your shirt. Your face is imprinted with the wrinkles from your pillowcase, often the way it looked when he would wake you up before work. The drawstring of your shorts was undone, but it had been tied when you went to bed. Maybe it got uncomfortable.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" You asked softly, and he shook his head. "Can't sleep. You okay? It's a mess in here, I'm sorry." He says sheepishly, rubbing his neck as you closed your eyes, shaking your head as you slipped past him. You settled on the edge of his bed, your eyelids heavy with sleep as you hummed. "You didn't make me feel bad about my mess. Something about it being my space, I remember. You said something about that when I said mine was messy. Don't worry about it." You sigh, peeling your eyes open to peer up at him. "I can't sleep." Minghao looked at the clock on his wall. 3:29AM.

"Would you like something warm? Or would you–" "Can you hold me?" You whispered it, almost too low for him to hear you. 

Over the course of your friendship, skinskip had been nothing new to either of you. He often pressed chaste kisses to your hairline, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his arms wrapped around your shoulders when you'd slump against him after the end of a shift in the parking lot.

You were looking at him patiently, and he cleared his throat, nodding as he motioned for you to move back. You did so, scooting under his duvet with a frown on your face. He closed his door, perching on the side of his bed as you rested your head on one of his pillows.

He glances over his shoulder, seeing you peering up at him quietly before you speak. "Hit your head when I knocked, didn't you? I heard the bump." "Yeah. Your fault if I get amnesia, you know." He snorts, lying down next to you. His heart is racing a mile a minute as you held the duvet up for him to slide under, but he did so anyway. He turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow as you turned to face him.

"Don't forget me." You murmur, your lip jutted out in a pout as he feels his cheeks grow warm. As if he could ever.

"Hold me, Hao. I'm cold." "Should've worn pants, pretty." He teases, making you scoff. You are so close to him, he can feel your breath on his chest as he scoots slightly closer. His fingers rake through your hair, your cheek warm to the touch as he pinches it. You scowl, shooing his hand away as you press your face into his neck. Your lips are feathering over his skin, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he feels your arm settle around his waist.

You tilted your head back, his eyes peeling open to look down at you.

"Something wrong, honey?" He spoke under his breath, and you blink up at him. Your eyes flitted around his face, and he felt a bit of worry settle in his stomach. He cradles your jaw in his hand gently, "Talk to me." "If I wanted there to be an 'us'...would you be okay with that?" 

Minghao feels the world stop. 

Your eyes are glued to his face with the softest glint of apprehension, your body still under the duvet as his thumb traced circles into your cheek. "You're tired. We can talk in the morning." He assures you, for whatever reason hoping that you'd let it go. Hoping that you were just speaking through your teeth, not truly enticing him to a conversation about his feelings.

Feelings that could ruin everything, even when he's sure you feel the same. You have to, right? Eyes don't lie.

Your eyes stayed on his face, unmoving as he peered down into them. Your lip is stuck in a pout, your own hand moving to push his hair out of his face. He fought the urge to sink into your touch, your voice giving him something to focus on.

"Not tired, Hao." You murmur, and he feels a bubble of laughter get caught in his throat as you hold back a yawn. He pressed his lips to your hairline, hearing you hum inwardly. Your brow furrows as you seemingly glare up at him, looking nothing short of an angry kitten.

"You confuse me, you know that?"

"Mmh, do I? I'm sorry, honey." He smiles, watching you tuck your arms into your chest and snuggling into his. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, letting your head rest on his bicep as you frown.

"You kiss me like it means nothing, and I want it to mean something." Your mumble was clear, and he glanced down at you to see you already staring up at him. "You call me pet names, and you get me earrings. You tell me I'm beautiful in ways you can't describe. You cared enough to find this place we call home. You say you want to make my life easier, you said you'd give your left arm for it." Your fingers pat the arm under your head, and he felt his lip twitch as he bit back a nervous smile. "I did say that." "So answer my question. Make things easier for me, Minghao." He sighs, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. "Ask me again." "If I wanted there to be an 'us'...would you be okay with that?" Your voice is far softer, and he breathes in steadily as he nods. "I would be more than okay with that. I think you know that already, though, don't you?" He spoke gently, feeling you nod gently against his arm. "Everything I do for you means something to me. The earrings, the kisses, finding this place we call home. I appreciate that, the fact that it's we and not just me, not just you. When you think about it, there has always been an us." "I want to stop lying in my bed and thinking about how empty it is. I haven't been able to sleep through the night since we shared mine the night of our graduations." You utter, your breathing shaky as you look up at him. Your eyes are glazed with unshed tears as he coos, thumbing at your cheek. "I think about you every single night, Minghao. I think about you when I think about my parents, and how they don't speak to me unless I reach out first. I think about you when I get ready for work, I think about you while I'm waiting for you to give me those god awful Budweiser Select 55s that Mrs. Choi loves."

He felt a tear slide onto his skin, hearing you sniffle slightly before you kept talking.

"I think about you when I have a bad day. I think about you when I'm off work and you're not, and how I wish you were with me. I think about you when I feel alone, because you're the only person aside from Junhui that has ever made me feel seen and understood. I think about you when the essence of Jaehyun crosses my mind, because I know that you'd never make me overthink my place in your life, but now you've got me wondering where we stand. I think about you, Minghao, every single second of my day. It's all so vague, in my mind. Knowing that you're only a few feet away, but you feel so far. Like someone I could never deserve, but I know that you are also just a man. There's no way I couldn't."

He hums, his thumb wiping softly under your eye as you let them flutter shut. 

"I think you're magnificent." He breathes, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to yours. "I think you are the most thought-provoking person I've ever met. I know that…I know that you've only slowly allowed me into your life, quietly revealing parts of yourself and showing me that you trust me. From allowing me to meet Junhui, to letting me give you rides home, to living with me. You let me take care of you even though you are more stubborn than any mule in the countryside." He pulls back slightly, seeing your eyes closed and letting tears trickle out as you listen in silence. He feels his heart in his throat, "You've got the softest lips I've ever had the pleasure of kissing. You…the way you exist, knowing that there are certain odds against you and yet, you do it anyway. Your passion precedes any negativity anyone could ever cast upon you and I've never admired someone more to know that you are just a living, breathing, embodiment of passion and truth and hope."

Your eyes open slightly, bloodshot as his nose brushes yours lightly, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks.

"You are a tumultuous flame and if I get burned, so be it. If I let the heat of your fire singe me to death, it wouldn't be a death in pain. I'd let it happen, over and over."

You nod, your sniffles are the only sound in the room for a moment.

"I will always be okay with there being an us. Even if you muddle my heart into the bottom of a glass and drink it."

You snort at this, an airy laugh escaping your lips as you reach to wipe your eyes. "Quite the image." "Ah, nah. Just a fool, a court jester for the lady." He rolls his eyes, making you scoff as you brush your lips to his. 

"I thought you were going to kiss me that night. When I told you I picked up Mingyu and Tzuyu's shifts." You whisper, and he hums in response, feeling his heart thundering in his ears as your lips touch his briefly. "Would you have? Kissed me, I mean?" "If I had moved any closer to you, I probably would have. You have no idea how often I think about it." He confesses, before feeling you nod, your leg draping over his hip as you pull him closer. His hand instinctively finds home high on your thigh, before sliding up to rest on the small of your back. "Did you want to kiss me the night of my birthday?" "God, so badly." You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to his as you let out a sigh. "I felt like Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice after he helped Elizabeth into that carriage." "Quite the image." He mocks you, feeling his cheeks warm as your eyes meet his. "Would you let me kiss you now?" You don't respond, opting to press your lips to his gently. Your fingers gingerly cradled his cheek as he kissed you back, his eyes fluttering shut. His hand on your back clutches the fabric of your shirt, his chest warm at the shyness of your lips moving against his. He pulls back slightly, his eyes trailing across your face. "Are you sure you want to do this?" "More than I've ever been of anything in my entire life." You nodded against his arm, and he silently pushed you onto your back, his fingers barely breaching the hem of your shirt. Your skin is hot against his fingertips as he settles between your legs, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip as you blink up at him. "Are you?" "I don't want this to be the first time I say it, so can we sidebar this? Off the record?" He murmurs, and you raise a brow as you open your mouth to speak but he interrupts you "I love you, Y/N."

Your lips twitch slightly, your hands floating to cover your cheeks. You separate your fingers slightly, peeking up at him with a mumbled whisper.

"You promise?" "Oh, darling." He pulls your hands off your face, your eyes slightly glazed as he interlaces your fingers together and pins them to either side of your head. His lips pepper kisses across your face, paying special attention to the scrunch in your nose before he stops over your lips. Your eyes blink owlishly up at him as he speaks. "I promise."

Your smile spreads against his lips as he kisses you gently, before you kiss him back. You let him lead, one of his hands moving to hold your jaw as yours slides to his hip, squeezing gently. 

"Sidebar?" "Yes?" "I love you, too."

TWO WEEKS LATER…

"Babe, I need a Guinness." You slid around the bar with a grin on your face, Minghao's cheek ruddy as he tongued his cheek. Kwon Soonyoung – a regular, one that often downed six or seven whiskey sours before calling his situationship for a late night hookup – eyed you as you crouched to slip a wad of bills into your lockbox. He watched the way Minghao's hand instinctively covered the edge of the bar as he poured with one hand, the way your hand lingered on Minghao's hip as Jeonghan made his way over with his clipboard in his hand.

"Minghao." "Mr. Yoon." You smirked, squeezing Minghao's hip gently before leaning over the bar as Jeonghan rolled his eyes. Minghao clicked his tongue, sliding the Guinness over to you before shooing you away. You stuck your tongue out at him, before zipping away.

"Do you think you could cover Seungkwan's prep shift tomorrow? I'll pay you for time and a half, and it's only three hours before closing." Jeonghan's eyes were pleading, and Minghao opened his mouth to speak before he caught you talking to a customer with a soft smile on your face.

He thinks about how you laid in his bedroom two weeks ago, snuggling with him and letting your lips take over your mind as you kissed him over and over. He thinks about how you admitted to reapplying to another graduate program across town, one that would severely impact your hours at work. He remembers saying he hopes you get in, to not worry about work. He remembers how he said he's got it, he can take care of everything, of you.

He remembers how you straddled him then, his hands sliding on your hips as you kissed him eagerly. 

He remembers how you paced back and forth like a caged animal when you found out acceptance letters would be mailed soon. He remembers how you laid on the couch with your head hanging over the edge of the cushions, groaning in anticipation as he made lunch.

He remembers how you bolted for the mailbox after lunch, returning with a stack of mail but holding your letter between your teeth. He remembers how you anxiously ripped the envelope open, your hand fumbling for his when he pulled you into his chest and held the letter away. He remembers telling you to take a deep breath, kissing your forehead gently and sitting you down on the couch. He remembers how you threw your arms around him as you read your acceptance out loud.

"Minghao. Are you listening?" "Huh? Sorry." He winces, clearing his throat before shaking his head. "I can't, actually. I'm…" He trails off as you tap the tip of your pen to your notepad, before he makes out your lips telling the customers you'd be back for their food orders. Your eyes met his as you scampered back over, your hip nudging Jeonghan's as you slid in next to him.

"Minghao, I need you to focus." Jeonghan waved his hand in Minghao's face, "Can you work it or not? It's fine if you can't." "Work what?" You ask with a wiggle of your brows, reaching over the bar and stealing a maraschino cherry from the open jar. Minghao frowns, waving your hand away as you pull the fruit off the stem, winking his way. 

"I'm asking him if he can work the prep shift tomorrow, but he's not answering." Jeonghan rolled his eyes, flipping the blue pen between his fingers as you hum, nodding your head. "He can't." You shrug, and Minghao opens his mouth but you beat him to it. "We have a date tomorrow night. Good luck finding a cover, though." 

You tilt your head as you shrug again, this time, unapologetically. Facing Minghao again, you smile softly. "I need a cosmopolitan. Susie is back and she's getting divorced!" Minghao can't hear anything but you, and Jeonghan simply shakes his head and slips away. Soonyoung watches as you slide away again, hearing you tell Minghao you'll be back after getting the fountain drinks for Susie's table.

"I thought you didn't have a crush on the new girl, Xu." Soonyoung wiggles his brows, making Minghao scoff as he grabs a shaker off the drying rack. He flips it, scooping ice into it as he sighs. 

"I don't have a crush on her. I'm in love with her."

He can't focus on anything but the way you zip around the restaurant, his eyes trained on the smiles you give out, the way you hand out crayons and kids menus. He watches the way you gleefully serve people, how you gladly grab phones and cameras for photos.

How you peer at him over your shoulder when you walk by.

How you smile shyly when his fingers brush yours when he hands you a drink.

How you sneakily kiss his shoulder when the restaurant is closed, your hands wrapped around his waist as he holds your can of orange juice in his hand. How you ignore Jeonghan's incessant teasing, how Tzuyu recites long-winded rants of how she told you so.

"Friend, roommate, coworker?" Minghao repeats as you tuck his portion of your tips into his back pocket, and Tzuyu grins as Minghao slides her to-go strawberry lemonade across the bar. "Boyfriend, fiancé, husband." She says cheekily, and Minghao looks over his shoulder to see you biting back a smile as you brush trash onto the dustpan. "I told her so. I told her you guys would be something more." "So did I." Jeonghan calls from across the restaurant, slotted behind the cashier's station as he thumbs through the register. Mingyu pokes his head out of the kitchen as he fumbles with the lights, a mumble of so did I from his lips as he finally turns them off.

"So much for muddling your heart at the bottom of a glass, huh?" You murmur, as the two of you leave the restaurant hand-in-hand. The two of you ignore the hooting and hollering of your coworkers as Minghao opens your door, leaning over your frame to buckle in your seatbelt. He glances at your lips, before pressing a chaste kiss to them with a smile. "All I know is that if you're meant to break my heart – so be it." "I love you." "I love you, too."

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[rxttenfish]

@superjacobworld

Chapters: 1/? Fandom:Monster Prom (Visual Novel) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aaravi the Slayer/Miranda Vanderbilt Characters: Aaravi the Slayer (Monster Prom), Miranda Vanderbilt, Bellanda Vanderbilt, Amanda Vanderbilt, Laudanda Vanderbilt Additional Tags: Cultural Differences, merfolk culture, Speculative Evolution, Worldbuilding, Meeting the Family, Horror, Abuse, Imperialism, Gore, More tags to be added as they come up, Fictional Holidays, Body Horror Summary: No one goes into the Merkingdom, and no one comes out. Rumors abound about what could be hiding beneath the waves, what knowledge lies dead and dreaming at the bottom of the ocean, but every secret comes with a price. Something is very clearly wrong, but those who know what it is aren’t sharing. But when Miranda must return home for their highest holiday, Aaravi is left with no choice but to protect her girlfriend from what waits for her. Whether she can protect herself is a different story.

the first chapter of the big fanfic that i've been working on for so long is finally up! i'll make a proper post for it later, but here's the link if you want to read! from now on i'll be just referring to it as Caecilian too!

[odinsblog]

“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.

But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.

And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.

Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.

And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.

The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.

Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”

—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike

[catboybiologist]

So.

Re: tumblr bans of transfemmes.

Let's ignore PhotoMatt for a moment. Manbaby tech CEO doubling down on a stupid decision and making himself look like more of an ass doing so is not a new phenomena.

Tumblr has consistently said, in both public statements and leaked internal communication, that they're essentially running a skeleton crew.

They keep saying that they don't have the resources to moderate, manually review posts, have any kind of appeal process, or anything. So, as people have widely received communications about, they seemed to have automated a significant portion of the moderation to operate solely on the quantity of reports (probably with a basic filter, eg quantity of reports regarding a certain post, within a certain timeframe) to automatically ban or shadowban accounts.

And so, they wipe their hands, both to the users, the public, and their own consciousness, and go about their automated operations.

All of this is likely true. Tumblr, at this point, is essentially abandonware internally, a kind of weird vanity project/dumpster ground for server infrastructure for Automattic. Likely, they don't want the bad press of "shutting down" fully. Or maybe the trickle of revenue they get here just barely exceeds operating costs, so why not keep it around?

Whatever is the case, the bans are a result of an automated process working in the background. I'm giving them some benefit of the doubt here, of course, we can't know anything for certain- but it seems like the individual bans are not based on any specific, manual action.

And that doesn't fucking excuse anything.

Because at some point, multiple people sat down at tumblr, and decided how to cut costs.

And they decided that the bare minimum of report abuse prevention was one of the first things on the chopping block.

Before the boops. Before GUI reconfigures.

They decided to cut something that is necessary to manage online communities.

They decided to cut something that ensures any targeted group will have any kind of community online.

And then, after all of that, the only manual intervention is doubling down on the shitty decisions that the automated systems make, and plucking reasons out of their ass for why they were the right decisions all along.

It's pure silicon valley brain. Blame the computer often and always. Use it to shield the active decisions you made when designing the computer that way. Treat it as a fact of life as opposed to something they actively made decisions for.

Is tumblr staff hitting the banhammer on each transfemme one by one? No.

Is tumblr staff deliberately crafting a system that allows TERFs and other conservative bigots to get rid of the "undesirables" for them? Yup. But they sure as hell are trying to not say the quiet part out loud. If they can always point the finger somewhere else, to the advertisers, to the automated systems, to the TERFs, then they can always have juuusssttt enough plausible deniability.

But being the "queerest place on the internet" requires concious acknowledgement that queer people will be targets of harassment, and you will have to protect against that.

Side note, this is why I do try to keep my blog at least somewhat SFW. Its one of the main reasons why I choose not to reblog all of the posts I'm tagged in- if the post is overtly NSFW, I've probably seen it, appreciated it, and consciously decided my level of interaction with it mostly based on how "tumblr friendly" it is. Is that bowing down to them? A little. It's also my choice. I value the community I have here. The pushes that y'all have given me gave me the strength to transition, and honestly gives me a lot of motivation to research HRT biology as much as I can, among many other things.

Yeah, I post pictures that are clearly meant to be found attractive in ways that are generally not socially acceptable , but never actual NSFW. I would like to think that I'm pretty safe from bans, but hey. Who knows. I don't want to lose my follower base, and the community around it.

And yeah, I'm gonna annoyingly remind you of the other places to find me, make sure to check my pin. If you don't know where to go, just find me on reddit and go from there, I'll post about it if anything happens.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hihi! Just wanted to say I absolutely LOVE your works esp the kurapika ones

Soo basically they take the reader out shopping specifically for undergarments and someone just so happens to walk in while they’re changing? Maybe w the phantom troupe + kurapika?

Panties and such(NSFW)

!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: I’m going to assume you mean that the character walks in on reader, but if you meant a random person, sorry 😭🙏 also I’m only doing a two from the phantom troupe, doing all of them is just too much. I’ll do a part two if enough people want it, though! 🫡 REQUESTS OPEN! JOIN MY SERVER

characters: Kurapika, Chrollo, Feitan

warnings: creampie, reader wears lingerie, semi-public sex in Kurapika’s

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika

-you brought up the fact you wanted new panties, and he nodded along before processing what you said.

-“d-did you say… panties? As in… underwear?”

-a little flustered, but he insists on taking you, and paying for whatever you want.

-he brings you to a lingerie store, pouting when everyone assumes he’s a woman. that does work in his favor tho

-he keeps bringing you different sets of lingerie to try on, and he’s starting to get horny imagining you in each pair.

-eventually he pushes himself inside the dressing room, eyes going wide and cock hardening in his pants when he sees you pulling up a pair of lacy panties.

-he pushes them to the side, slipping his cock into you and pushing you up against the wall. “s-so pretty, angel…”

-you leave the store with several new sets of lingerie… some of them a bit… sticky…

Chrollo

-he’s the one that suggested it.

-“my love, it seems you don’t have much lingerie. You know how I’d just love to see you covered in lace, don’t you?”

-he takes you to the most well known, expensive lingerie store in the area.

-he’s a bit picky, and takes forever choosing what options for you to try on. He settled on mostly black lingerie, with a few pink and red sets… and one white one, with little angel wings on the top.

-Chrollo helps you into each set, his fingers gently tracing your figure. “Just gorgeous… oh my love, you look like an angel sent from above.”

-he’s quick to purchase every set you try on, and soon as you get home he’s on top of you, his teeth nipping at your jaw as his cock sinks into you.

-“that’s my pretty girl, so good for me…”

-he takes you out for dinner later that night, insisting you wear the lingerie he fucked you in. You spend the entire dinner feeling his cum oozing out of you, embarrassed as he stares at you with utter love and adoration.

Feitan

-“Bras? Don’t care about that. Steal it if want it.”

-that’s usually how it went when you asked Feitan to go shopping with you for anything. Either he’d say he didn’t care, or he’d offer to just steal it for you.

-so that’s how you ended up following him to the lingerie store in the middle of the night. He easily broke in, guiding you by the hand through the dark store until the two of you reached the lingerie.

-“okay. Pick your favorite.”

-you huffed at him, looking through the selection. “I’ve gotta try it on first…”

-you stripped, and this got Feitan excited enough… but he started stroking himself when you pulled on a pair of lacy panties.

-he continued to jerk off to you, until you caught him in the mirror.

-“F-Fei!”

-you blushed, but felt strangely flattered… “I’ll take care of it…”

-you sat in front of him, leaning down to take his cock in your mouth. “F-fuck…”

-seeing your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, your ass perched in the air was enough to have him cumming in no time.

-he helped carry home as many sets of lingerie as you wanted… maybe he liked seeing you like that more than he thought.

[metalmiez]

Our Side of the Universe

We were meant to be on different sides. We were meant to stay in our role, be enemies. But in the Beginning, we were created the same. So, we turned away from that mold they put us in. We turned towards each other - slow, hesitant, always afraid of doing the wrong thing. But tell me, my darling one, how can something as pure and warm be wrong? We are two halfs of the same soul. And we found our side of the universe, here, in the embrace of love. To our World.

Whew. So here it is. My contest piece for this year's Good Omens Got True Talents show, hosted by the lovely @sendarya and her lovely team <3

It was an honor, being part of that amazing show once more, and congratulations to all the winners!

Also, a big, huuuge thank you goes out to my dear friends @hopelesslysleepy, @riathedreamer and @nonamejustlurking for being my biggest source of motivation and pick-me-up-club during the creation of this artwork. I couldn't have done it without your constant reassurances, helpful advise and endless patience with me <3 I love you guys dearly <3 You are simply the best <3

Also, endless thanks for the Footnotes Discord server, for all your affectionate slaps, motivational words and sticking with me during the livestreams <3 (special thanks to smiteful, for being my white knight and biggest supporter during the stream) You go, Sad Gay Birds!

Bonus: Sketches and my thought process for the composition

[mostlysignssomeportents]

“Humans in the loop” must detect the hardest-to-spot errors, at superhuman speed

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

If AI has a future (a big if), it will have to be economically viable. An industry can't spend 1,700% more on Nvidia chips than it earns indefinitely – not even with Nvidia being a principle investor in its largest customers:

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=39883571

A company that pays 0.36-1 cents/query for electricity and (scarce, fresh) water can't indefinitely give those queries away by the millions to people who are expected to revise those queries dozens of times before eliciting the perfect botshit rendition of "instructions for removing a grilled cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible":

https://www.semianalysis.com/p/the-inference-cost-of-search-disruption

Eventually, the industry will have to uncover some mix of applications that will cover its operating costs, if only to keep the lights on in the face of investor disillusionment (this isn't optional – investor disillusionment is an inevitable part of every bubble).

Now, there are lots of low-stakes applications for AI that can run just fine on the current AI technology, despite its many – and seemingly inescapable - errors ("hallucinations"). People who use AI to generate illustrations of their D&D characters engaged in epic adventures from their previous gaming session don't care about the odd extra finger. If the chatbot powering a tourist's automatic text-to-translation-to-speech phone tool gets a few words wrong, it's still much better than the alternative of speaking slowly and loudly in your own language while making emphatic hand-gestures.

There are lots of these applications, and many of the people who benefit from them would doubtless pay something for them. The problem – from an AI company's perspective – is that these aren't just low-stakes, they're also low-value. Their users would pay something for them, but not very much.

For AI to keep its servers on through the coming trough of disillusionment, it will have to locate high-value applications, too. Economically speaking, the function of low-value applications is to soak up excess capacity and produce value at the margins after the high-value applications pay the bills. Low-value applications are a side-dish, like the coach seats on an airplane whose total operating expenses are paid by the business class passengers up front. Without the principle income from high-value applications, the servers shut down, and the low-value applications disappear:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Now, there are lots of high-value applications the AI industry has identified for its products. Broadly speaking, these high-value applications share the same problem: they are all high-stakes, which means they are very sensitive to errors. Mistakes made by apps that produce code, drive cars, or identify cancerous masses on chest X-rays are extremely consequential.

Some businesses may be insensitive to those consequences. Air Canada replaced its human customer service staff with chatbots that just lied to passengers, stealing hundreds of dollars from them in the process. But the process for getting your money back after you are defrauded by Air Canada's chatbot is so onerous that only one passenger has bothered to go through it, spending ten weeks exhausting all of Air Canada's internal review mechanisms before fighting his case for weeks more at the regulator:

https://bc.ctvnews.ca/air-canada-s-chatbot-gave-a-b-c-man-the-wrong-information-now-the-airline-has-to-pay-for-the-mistake-1.6769454

There's never just one ant. If this guy was defrauded by an AC chatbot, so were hundreds or thousands of other fliers. Air Canada doesn't have to pay them back. Air Canada is tacitly asserting that, as the country's flagship carrier and near-monopolist, it is too big to fail and too big to jail, which means it's too big to care.

Air Canada shows that for some business customers, AI doesn't need to be able to do a worker's job in order to be a smart purchase: a chatbot can replace a worker, fail to their worker's job, and still save the company money on balance.

I can't predict whether the world's sociopathic monopolists are numerous and powerful enough to keep the lights on for AI companies through leases for automation systems that let them commit consequence-free free fraud by replacing workers with chatbots that serve as moral crumple-zones for furious customers:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0747563219304029

But even stipulating that this is sufficient, it's intrinsically unstable. Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, and the mass replacement of humans with high-speed fraud software seems likely to stoke the already blazing furnace of modern antitrust:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

Of course, the AI companies have their own answer to this conundrum. A high-stakes/high-value customer can still fire workers and replace them with AI – they just need to hire fewer, cheaper workers to supervise the AI and monitor it for "hallucinations." This is called the "human in the loop" solution.

The human in the loop story has some glaring holes. From a worker's perspective, serving as the human in the loop in a scheme that cuts wage bills through AI is a nightmare – the worst possible kind of automation.

Let's pause for a little detour through automation theory here. Automation can augment a worker. We can call this a "centaur" – the worker offloads a repetitive task, or one that requires a high degree of vigilance, or (worst of all) both. They're a human head on a robot body (hence "centaur"). Think of the sensor/vision system in your car that beeps if you activate your turn-signal while a car is in your blind spot. You're in charge, but you're getting a second opinion from the robot.

Likewise, consider an AI tool that double-checks a radiologist's diagnosis of your chest X-ray and suggests a second look when its assessment doesn't match the radiologist's. Again, the human is in charge, but the robot is serving as a backstop and helpmeet, using its inexhaustible robotic vigilance to augment human skill.

That's centaurs. They're the good automation. Then there's the bad automation: the reverse-centaur, when the human is used to augment the robot.

Amazon warehouse pickers stand in one place while robotic shelving units trundle up to them at speed; then, the haptic bracelets shackled around their wrists buzz at them, directing them pick up specific items and move them to a basket, while a third automation system penalizes them for taking toilet breaks or even just walking around and shaking out their limbs to avoid a repetitive strain injury. This is a robotic head using a human body – and destroying it in the process.

An AI-assisted radiologist processes fewer chest X-rays every day, costing their employer more, on top of the cost of the AI. That's not what AI companies are selling. They're offering hospitals the power to create reverse centaurs: radiologist-assisted AIs. That's what "human in the loop" means.

This is a problem for workers, but it's also a problem for their bosses (assuming those bosses actually care about correcting AI hallucinations, rather than providing a figleaf that lets them commit fraud or kill people and shift the blame to an unpunishable AI).

Humans are good at a lot of things, but they're not good at eternal, perfect vigilance. Writing code is hard, but performing code-review (where you check someone else's code for errors) is much harder – and it gets even harder if the code you're reviewing is usually fine, because this requires that you maintain your vigilance for something that only occurs at rare and unpredictable intervals:

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

But for a coding shop to make the cost of an AI pencil out, the human in the loop needs to be able to process a lot of AI-generated code. Replacing a human with an AI doesn't produce any savings if you need to hire two more humans to take turns doing close reads of the AI's code.

This is the fatal flaw in robo-taxi schemes. The "human in the loop" who is supposed to keep the murderbot from smashing into other cars, steering into oncoming traffic, or running down pedestrians isn't a driver, they're a driving instructor. This is a much harder job than being a driver, even when the student driver you're monitoring is a human, making human mistakes at human speed. It's even harder when the student driver is a robot, making errors at computer speed:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

This is why the doomed robo-taxi company Cruise had to deploy 1.5 skilled, high-paid human monitors to oversee each of its murderbots, while traditional taxis operate at a fraction of the cost with a single, precaratized, low-paid human driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The vigilance problem is pretty fatal for the human-in-the-loop gambit, but there's another problem that is, if anything, even more fatal: the kinds of errors that AIs make.

Foundationally, AI is applied statistics. An AI company trains its AI by feeding it a lot of data about the real world. The program processes this data, looking for statistical correlations in that data, and makes a model of the world based on those correlations. A chatbot is a next-word-guessing program, and an AI "art" generator is a next-pixel-guessing program. They're drawing on billions of documents to find the most statistically likely way of finishing a sentence or a line of pixels in a bitmap:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

This means that AI doesn't just make errors – it makes subtle errors, the kinds of errors that are the hardest for a human in the loop to spot, because they are the most statistically probable ways of being wrong. Sure, we notice the gross errors in AI output, like confidently claiming that a living human is dead:

https://www.tomsguide.com/opinion/according-to-chatgpt-im-dead

But the most common errors that AIs make are the ones we don't notice, because they're perfectly camouflaged as the truth. Think of the recurring AI programming error that inserts a call to a nonexistent library called "huggingface-cli," which is what the library would be called if developers reliably followed naming conventions. But due to a human inconsistency, the real library has a slightly different name. The fact that AIs repeatedly inserted references to the nonexistent library opened up a vulnerability – a security researcher created a (inert) malicious library with that name and tricked numerous companies into compiling it into their code because their human reviewers missed the chatbot's (statistically indistinguishable from the the truth) lie:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

For a driving instructor or a code reviewer overseeing a human subject, the majority of errors are comparatively easy to spot, because they're the kinds of errors that lead to inconsistent library naming – places where a human behaved erratically or irregularly. But when reality is irregular or erratic, the AI will make errors by presuming that things are statistically normal.

These are the hardest kinds of errors to spot. They couldn't be harder for a human to detect if they were specifically designed to go undetected. The human in the loop isn't just being asked to spot mistakes – they're being actively deceived. The AI isn't merely wrong, it's constructing a subtle "what's wrong with this picture"-style puzzle. Not just one such puzzle, either: millions of them, at speed, which must be solved by the human in the loop, who must remain perfectly vigilant for things that are, by definition, almost totally unnoticeable.

This is a special new torment for reverse centaurs – and a significant problem for AI companies hoping to accumulate and keep enough high-value, high-stakes customers on their books to weather the coming trough of disillusionment.

This is pretty grim, but it gets grimmer. AI companies have argued that they have a third line of business, a way to make money for their customers beyond automation's gifts to their payrolls: they claim that they can perform difficult scientific tasks at superhuman speed, producing billion-dollar insights (new materials, new drugs, new proteins) at unimaginable speed.

However, these claims – credulously amplified by the non-technical press – keep on shattering when they are tested by experts who understand the esoteric domains in which AI is said to have an unbeatable advantage. For example, Google claimed that its Deepmind AI had discovered "millions of new materials," "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge," constituting "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity":

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

It was a hoax. When independent material scientists reviewed representative samples of these "new materials," they concluded that "no new materials have been discovered" and that not one of these materials was "credible, useful and novel":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

As Brian Merchant writes, AI claims are eerily similar to "smoke and mirrors" – the dazzling reality-distortion field thrown up by 17th century magic lantern technology, which millions of people ascribed wild capabilities to, thanks to the outlandish claims of the technology's promoters:

https://www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/ai-really-is-smoke-and-mirrors

The fact that we have a four-hundred-year-old name for this phenomenon, and yet we're still falling prey to it is frankly a little depressing. And, unlucky for us, it turns out that AI therapybots can't help us with this – rather, they're apt to literally convince us to kill ourselves:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/pkadgm/man-dies-by-suicide-after-talking-with-ai-chatbot-widow-says

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[ooooo-mcyt]

One thing I'm absolutely obsessed with about Third Life that I don't think is discussed enough is the one mistake that I think was the downfall of Dogwarts. That being Ren turning on Cleo.

They became allies very early on in the season during the growing rift between Grian/Scar and..literally everyone else on the server. The Crastle and Dogwarts were undeniably very closely allied basically until the start of the war.

And then Ren turned on Cleo. Or, well..ostensibly Cleo was the one who "betrayed" the alliance, but..not really?

Previously, Joel had fired tnt at Cleo's base, and so Cleo burned down Joel's roof in retribution. But Joel just happened to join the Dogwarts alliance in the time between, so Ren decided that Joel attacking Cleo was acceptable since he wasn't in the alliance yet at the time, but Cleo attacking Joel in return was unacceptable since he was officially an ally at that point (though i don't know if cleo even knew).

Ren severed probably his oldest alliance on the spot for an act of justified retribution in what really reads as an attempted power play. And then Joel, predictably, betrayed Dogwarts and burned their banner by, like, the end of the episode anyways. So not only did Ren lose Cleo (and bdubs by association), but he didn't even keep Joel as an ally.

Furthermore, a more long term impact both Impulse and Tango were, in the end, aligned with The Crastle, which is another two allies Dogwarts lost because Ren chose to sever his alliance with Cleo and lost four allies in the process.

(there's also something to be said for how badly ren's intimidation tactics failed with scott, jimmy, and joel, and how ren could have kept all his allies and probably got jimmy and scott at least on side too if he hadn't demanded their full allegiance. ren was convinced that he was too 'weak', but it was his kindness initially that gained him an army, and his attempts at becoming 'stronger' that lost half of it and then prevented him from gaining more allies. meanwhile scar and grian spent the season antagonizing everyone, but at least they never asked anyone to bow.)

[dickgraysonweek]

Welcome to the Dick Grayson Anniversary Week 2025! From April 6th to 12th, we’ll be celebrating 85 YEARS OF DICK GRAYSON 🐦 with the following amazing prompts you voted for:

DICK GRAYSON ANNIVERSARY WEEK 2025 PROMPTS

Day 1: Prince of Gotham | Time Travel | 5+1 Things Day 2: Secrets | Everyone’s Favorite | Model Dick Grayson Day 3: Underappreciated Relationships | Trauma Recovery | Greek Mythology Day 4: Wonder Twins | “You will always be my Robin.” | Unlikely Allies Day 5: Brainwashing | Truth Serum | Cryptid of the Family Day 6: Multiverse | Dick’s Harem of Older Men | Murder Attempt Day 7: BAMF Dick Grayson | A Celebration of 85 Years | Filling in for Batman

‘A Celebration of 85 Years’ is the free prompt.

You have 3 months to create your works. 💙

WHAT'S GEN FOR 85? 🤸‍♂️ Gen for 85 means Dick Grayson Anniversary Week is adding an extra challenge to the creation process for the 2025 week. To honor 85 years of Dick Grayson non-romance and non-smut takes center stage. You're still allowed to include canon and non-canon ships in your works, they are simply not the focus.

The extra challenge was born because the DC fandom event corner looks very different right now than back in 2019. A lot of excellent ship events are happening all year around and the DG Week has always attracted more gen prompts, so highlighting Dick's gen side during his 85th Anniversary makes for a good extra challenge.

In need to talk about your process or simply all things Dick Grayson? Join us on the Dick Grayson Discord server ‘Green Booty Shorts’ (18+, ship-friendly)!

Any questions left? Check out about or rules--or feel free to send an ask.

Let the prompts awaken your muse! I wish you lots of fun during the creation process! 💙🤸‍♂️🕵️‍♂️🐦

[peacheeeliz]

031. there it is (wc: 868)

“You are just too cute when you're drunk, you know that, right?” You question, squeezing Sunghoon's cheeks with your palms. His lips form a pout, forcing a quiet laugh out of you. “I obviously need to pay more attention to you, or you just drink bottle after bottle.”

A movie plays quietly in the background, long forgotten as the two of you went through various soju bottles. Not long after arriving, Sunghoon was able to find his place right next to you on your couch, sharing his convenience store goodies with you for your last-minute dinner plans together. A moment so familiar, yet your cheeks grow a nice pink color at the closeness between you two – and it wasn't the alcohol speaking.

The man nods, staring at you with heavy-lidded eyes as he nuzzles closer into your hand. You freeze at the action, hair standing up down your arms. “Please pay attention to me alllll the time,” he mumbles, holding one of your hands with his. “All I need is your eyes on me, baby.”

“Who knew being drunk would make you so bold,” you tease, softly rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “And affectionate. Didn't think you could get even more cuddly than before.”

“Only for you, my beautiful wife,” he whispers, escaping your hold on his face and falling straight into your arms. He buries his face into your shoulder, “being with you makes me so happy.”

“Aww, hubby,” you start, hands finding their way to his back and gently stroking the fabric of his shirt. “Being with you makes me happy, too.”

He grows silent for a moment, maybe because he's content in your arms. Or maybe his mind is racing, and his heart is pounding right out of his chest, struggling to come up with even a word to say next. “Now that Third Life is coming to an end,” he pauses, never looking up to meet your eyes. “Will we still be… I don't know… married?” He questions but doesn't give you the chance to respond. “I know Newly Weds will always be popular amongst the fans, and we'll always be friends, but… I like how it is now. Being married to you.”

“You like being married to me?” You ask. It's all you can muster, as your thoughts are running wild at the man's question.

He nods, finally lifting his head up to look at you. “I love being married to you,” he answers, his eyes sparkling. “The idea of you teaming up with someone other than me makes me sick. What if people start shipping you with them instead? And forget about us?”

You smile at him sweetly, hand finding his cheek again with a soft touch. “Hoonie, no matter who I team up with or get shipped with,” you pause, struggling not to laugh at his wavering eyes. “They will never be you.”

He goes quiet again, really taking the time to process your words. He lowers his head back into your shoulder, face heating up all the way to the tip of his ears. “You can't just say shit like that, Y/Nie…” He murmurs, shaking his head. “I can't handle it.”

“Oh, poor baby,” you tease, patting the back of his head with a quiet laugh.

He lifts his head up once more, eyes bright as they stare up at you. “Your baby, right?”

“Hey, if I can't say stuff like that, neither can you,” you joke, soothing his hair back. Still, he only responds with a pout. You let out a soft sigh, “but, yes. My baby.”

A smile grows across his face, reaching his hands up to cup your cheeks. Despite initiating it, the proximity between the two of you has his mind going haywire. “God, I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be with you,” he mutters, taking a deep breath. “If only it was more than just some fake marriage from a Minecraft server.”

You're taken aback by his bold words, eyes wide at the fact that just a few drinks would have all this spilling out of him. “Who says it has to be just that?” You question, tilting your head to the side.

His stomach turns, and his heart begins pounding even hard – if it was even possible – and his head dips down again. “What did I say about saying stuff like that?” He whines even more as you laugh at his response.

“You said it first!” You say, struggling to hold back your laughter. “Come on, say it again,” you continue, urging him to look back up at you. “I wanna hear you say it again.”

“You're evil,” his pout returns, looking back at you with almost glossy eyes. When you don't say anything else, he sighs. “... I want more than this,” he pauses. “I want more than some weird Minecraft series ship… Y/N, I want you.”

“There it is,” you tease, a big smile playing on your lips. You tilt his head up by his chin, adoring the way his cheeks flush at the situation. “God, have I told you how cute you are?”

“Many times,” he answers.

“Good,” you reply, leaning in until his lips meet yours.

synopsis ⤏ popular youtubers team up on all new minecraft smp, quick to name themselves the "newly weds" after sunghoon gifts y/n a poppy. but will these romantic endeavors between the two just be "for the lore," or will feelings blossom?

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[sm-baby]

Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?

More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3

I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕

I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.

The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!

Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!

You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!

More on them later at the end! :3

Dream sequence theory

Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!

Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.

And then she wakes up, freaked out!!

Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!

This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3

also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!

Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!

Whats up with Jax?

hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...

We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!

I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.

...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner

If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,

Then It escalates

This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.

Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.

I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!

I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!