you always had some way to annoy alhaitham.

when he first met you, he knew he was going to dislike you. your professor had paired you together for a research project, and he hadn’t really cared, he expected either a lazy partner or someone useless. He did not anticipate you.

perfume so strong it lingered long after you had left, lips glossy and pink, a cheery, infectious smile plastered on your face. and then you spoke.

“oh?” you said, tilting your head lightly. “didn’t know I was going to be paired with a cutie.” a giggle followed, high-pitched and bright, and he almost, almost - wanted to walk away then and there.

from that moment on, you were glued to his side. he had not wanted you sitting next to him in class, but of course, you had an excuse ready.

“it would be better if we sat together, ya know? also… you look lonely. i can’t leave my partner alone,” you chirped, pink gloss catching the light, your perfume hanging heavy in the air.

he had looked at you, expression flat. pathetic, he thought. “you are a distraction,” he muttered, and returned to his laptop.

you didn’t seem to hear him. you were relentless-sitting too close, leaning into his arm as you whispered about college gossip he didn’t care about.

“did you know kaeya is sleeping with albedo from my art class?” you asked, tone playful.

unnecessary, he thought, jaw tightening. “that is irrelevant.”

but still, he indulged it, because it was impossible not to notice you. your skirt rode a little too high, your thin-strap tops left your shoulders bare, and when you leaned over his laptop, he caught glimpses of lace he had no right to see. your perfume was a constant assault, and your energy-impossibly bright and bubbly; seemed designed to pierce through his calm, ordered world. every tilt of your head, every bounce of your knee brushing against him, chipped at his patience in a way he refused to admit.

then there was the lollipop a few weeks back. you leaned over your notes, cherry-colored gloss leaving a mark on the stick, lips wrapped around it so perfectly, so tantalizing. alhaitham had looked up-and simply could not take it. he stood abruptly, muttering something about needing the bathroom, leaving you blinking after him, confusion written across your face. your giggle followed him down the hall, light and teasing, leaving him acutely aware of just how much your presence affected him.

he hated it. hated noticing. hated the tension coiling in his chest when you brushed too close. and yet… he did notice. every. single. thing.

you never focused on taking down notes in class instead you doodled drawings of radom items, people and sometimes alhaitham. he had caught himself quietly printing out his own lecture notes for you, sliding them onto your desk while you twirled strands of hair around your fingers, completely absorbed in your own world.

you bounced back to your seat with something sugary and extravagant, practically vibrating with excitement one day. you had set your drink down alongside his own black coffee, silently glaring as you leaned in, swiping whipped cream from the rim with your tongue and humming a little tune.

and then there was the nickname. haitham. one careless syllable, honeyed and teasing, and his hand would freeze mid-keystroke. “haitham,” he would snap, voice clipped, low. you would giggle, tilting your head as though you had won some invisible game.

you invaded his dorm too, leaving traces behind: colorful pens in mugs, a plushie tucked among his gray-toned books, even notebooks curling with your handwriting. he had wanted to tell you to leave, to reclaim his ordered, quiet space-but somehow, he hadn’t. somehow, he hadn’t minded entirely.

and yet, through it all, there were moments he could not ignore. the quiet way you read romance novels in the corner, your shoulders soft and relaxed, eyes occasionally flicking up to him. the little blush when praised. the sparkle in your gaze when he handed you notes or corrected a mistake. you were infuriating. you were impossible. and somehow, beneath the chaos, beneath the incessant giggling and skirts and perfume, he had begun to notice things he was certain he should not.

you had become a thorn he could not remove, a bright, unpredictable force in his ordered world. and when you were gone for a while likely with ajax, that insufferable college jock and one of your casual flings-he felt the absence keenly. he hated it. hated that he even noticed. hated the way the dorm felt quieter, his thoughts emptier without your chatter, your movement, your very presence.

you were out again with ajax, leaving alhaitham alone in the quiet of his dorm. the sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting thin lines across his desk, and that’s when he noticed it, a book left carelessly open on the corner, slightly tilted, as if you had just set it down and walked away.

a romance novel. normally, he didn’t care what you read, but something about it being left here, abandoned yet so deliberately placed, drew his attention. the cover was colorful, slightly worn, and he noticed the sticky tabs protruding from nearly every chapter-pink, green, yellow, each one a little flag pointing to something important, something you had marked.

he leaned over, picking it up with precise fingers. the faint scent of your perfume seemed to linger on the pages, subtle but unmistakable, reminding him that you had been here recently. the corners of the pages were bent just enough to show you had read this one over multiple times, and the faint crease along the spine suggested you had held it in your hands for hours.

curiosity pried him further. he flipped through randomly, eyes scanning quickly, until one page caught him off guard. a neon green sticky note, scribbled in your handwriting, fluttered slightly in the light breeze from the open window. he squinted, and his eyes widened imperceptibly as he read it:

“wish haitham could do this to me.”

alhaitham froze. his gaze flicked down to the page itself. the scene was graphic, heated, written in vivid detail, enough to make any rational person’s attention sharpen immediately. and then he noticed the deliberate alterations: the original character names scratched out, replaced with his name for the male lead and yours for the female.

'jace alhaitham's fingers stuffed her leaking cunt , breathy moans leaving her parted lips'

he blinked, momentarily speechless. the precision, the care, the audacity of it all… it was unmistakably you. he could feel his chest tighten, a low coil of irritation and something he refused to name. curiosity prickled alongside a strange, unwanted awareness of himself, his pulse slightly faster than it should have been.

the dorm felt suddenly smaller, quieter, almost charged, and he found himself carefully closing the book, placing it exactly where you had left it. the light hit the sticky notes again, bright and inescapable, almost like it was taunting him.

he leaned back in his chair, jaw tightening. not out of embarrassment-not exactly but from the weight of realizing just how much thought you had put into this, how deliberately you had replaced the characters with the two of you. his mind, so meticulously trained to ignore distractions, kept returning to it: you had thought of me. like this. with me.

he reaches out for his phone, fingers taping on to your chat as he typed out a simple message.

'hey, come over. need to discuss something about the research project.'

instantly you replied back.

'kayy, will be there in a few ;3'

and though he refused to admit it aloud, he couldn’t stop the tension coiling quietly in his chest and the throb of his cock.

alhaitham had you sprawled across his lap, that ridiculous short skirt of yours flipped up, your ass exposed, save for the thin scrap of fabric you dared to call panties. You were bare from the waist up, your breasts pressing against his thighs, your hardened nipples brushing his thigh with every shift.

one of his hands held the book you had been reading, opened precisely to the page you’d marked with a green sticky note. the knuckles of his other hand traced slowly down your spine, sending a shiver through you as you arched into his touch. a shaky moan slipped from your parted, glossed lips.

“i didn’t know you imagined me while reading such words,” alhaitham murmured, his voice low, his gaze heavy on the growing wet patch at the center of your panties. His knuckles stilled just above the waistband, resting at the small of your back, as if savoring the power in the moment.

he shifted his thighs, forcing your nipples to drag against them. The friction pulled a stifled moan from your throat, your eyes already shimmering with tears of humiliation, anticipation, and want tangling together.

his knuckles lingered. the tension between you stretched thin, your breathing ragged, your words catching before they could form. then, with infuriating patience, he slid two fingers beneath the hem of your panties and tugged them to the side.

your body jolted, a whimper caught in your throat as your arousal caught the light. your clit pulsed, aching for attention, and alhaitham nearly groaned at the sight. finally, after months of skirts and lace that taunted him, you were laid bare across his lap.

his fingers hovered close enough that you could feel their heat ghosting over your swollen lips, but instead of giving in, his voice cut through the charged silence.

“his fingers gently circle her clit,” he read aloud. as though following the script, his touch brushed against you, slow, deliberate, tracing your clit in soft circles.

a sob tore free of your chest, your fists gripping the bedding beneath him, your body twitching under the teasing contact.

alhaitham’s cock strained beneath you, the sight of you spread across his lap nearly undoing him. he let one finger press against your fluttering, soaked entrance before easing it inside. your walls clenched tight around him, desperate and trembling.

“after he added one finger, he added another,” alhaitham read aloud, his voice steady despite the heat in his eyes. and just as the words left his lips, he pushed a second finger in beside the first, this time rougher, forcing a broken sob from your throat.

“he moved his fingers in me, starting slow, then faster…” he continued, tone unhurried, measured. his hand, however, betrayed no mercy. his fingers began their rhythm, slow and deliberate at first, then quickening, plunging deeper as the wet sounds of your body filled the room.

your thighs trembled violently, your fists twisting the bedding as wave after wave of sensation broke over you. each thrust stretched you further, his fingers curling, dragging heat from your core until you were unraveling beneath him.

alhaitham’s cock throbbed at the sight- your pussy clenching around his fingers, dripping wetness down onto his thigh, your body wrecked against his lap. still, his hand never faltered, stretching you wider, pressing you harder, as if determined to carve his presence into every inch of you.

the way your cunt felt around his fingers, so tight, so warm; it made his cock throb, precum leaking at the tip. he needs to feel your pussy around his cock, squeezing his cock and milking him dry.

his fingers left you with a wet sound, and your walls fluttered around the emptiness, aching for more. you gasped, shuddering at the loss, but alhaitham only dragged his slick fingers across your pussy lips before slipping them into his mouth. his eyes darkened as he sucked them clean, savoring the taste of your desperation.

he takes you off his lap and places you on top of the bed. tearing off your skirt and panties, then taking of his shirt and pants. then you felt it-the heavy press of his cock against your soaked entrance. thick, hot, and unyielding. he nudged himself between your thighs, forcing your thighs wider, his tip nudging against your swollen folds. he didn’t push in. not yet. Instead, he rocked his hips just enough for his length to slide through your slick, dragging along your clit before settling back at your entrance again.

you whined, body trembling, trying to sink down onto him, but his grip on your waist was iron. he held you still, making you feel every agonizing drag of his cock as he coated himself in your wetness letting the tip of his cock circle around your twitching clit.

“feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “this is what you’ve wanted ? reading those filthy fantasies, imagining its my cock fucking you when you could have just asked me for the real thing”

he pressed forward, just barely breaching your entrance, the blunt head of his cock stretching you open. your breath hitched, a sob caught in your throat as he stilled, forcing your body to adjust around the thick intrusion. your walls fluttered, clenching down, pulling him deeper without his permission.

he groaned, low and guttural, his jaw tight with restraint. slowly, inch by inch, he eased himself inside, splitting you apart with agonizing patience. every fraction of him made your body seize and tremble, your nails clawing at the bedding as tears pricked at your eyes.

you could feel the veins along his cock dragging against your walls, each shallow thrust forward stretching you further. he paused halfway, chest heaving, savoring how you squirmed and sobbed beneath him, your cunt desperately trying to swallow him whole.

when he finally bottomed out, buried to the hilt, the stretch knocked the breath from your lungs. your walls clamped down around him, pulsing, fluttering, milking him already. alhaitham’s head dropped to your shoulder, a broken groan tearing from his throat as he fought to keep still, to not pound into you immediately.

the room was filled with your ragged breathing, the slick sounds of your bodies pressed together.

alhaitham’s thrusts were brutal, dragging cries from your throat that his fingers quickly swallowed when he shoved them past your lips. your babbling choked into muffled sobs, your tongue pressed against the taste of your own slick on his skin.

your pretty ruined gloss lips struggling to suck on his fingers, his cock twitching even more at seeing you so stuffed.

your body quaked under him, your slick coating his thighs with every sharp snap of his hips. he leaned close, his words curling against your ear as he slammed into you again.

“tell me,” he growled, jaw tight with restraint, “does ajax fuck you this good?”

your walls fluttered at the name, shame heating your chest, but your mouth was too full to answer. your muffled protest dissolved into a sob when he thrust harder, making the bed frame groan. he smirked at your silence, at the way your body betrayed you, clenching tighter, taking him deeper, giving him every answer without a single word.

“ofr once,” he said, pulling his soaked fingers from your mouth and letting a string of spit break across your lips, “you’re quiet. obedient.”

but then, the moment his fingers slipped free, your broken voice spilled out.

“haitham—”

the sound of that irritating nickname, raw and needy on your lips, made his cock twitch inside you. his breath hitched, a groan tearing from his throat as his control shattered.

“say it again,” he demanded, hips grinding deep before slamming forward with punishing force.

“haitham!” you cried, your voice cracking as your nails clawed at the bedding.

he groaned low, almost desperate, his pace unraveling into something harsher, faster. each thrust drove you further into the sheets, his name ripped from your throat again and again, the only word left in you.

“that’s it,” he growled, voice ragged, rutting into you as if the sound alone pushed him deeper.

the room filled with the slick slap of your bodies, your broken cries of “haitham,” and the guttural sounds spilling from him, both of you drowning in the ruin he had wanted all along.

each slam of his hips driving you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering and clenching impossibly tight around him. your cries of his name were raw and desperate, a broken mantra that matched every pulse of his cock inside you.

his breathing was ragged, chest heaving, and the tip of him pulsed with the tight coil of his own approaching release. he was about to pull out, to let both of you come down from the edge…

but your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him flush against you. your hands gripped his shoulders, pressing him closer, and your voice, shaky, needy, but impossibly firm—cut through the haze:

“no. inside. i want your cum inside of me" your eyes glassy with tears, your lips puff. " please haitham, want to feel every drop of your hot cum in me.”

his hips stilled at your words, the words shattered every ounce of restraint he had left. his eyes darkened, jaw tight, and his cock twitched inside you as he slammed forward again, harder, deeper, filling you completely with every inch of him - with a new ounce of energy, his hips bruising in the way they thrusted into you.

your walls clenched around him, gripping him like a vice, each tight squeeze pulling him further into madness. The sensations stacked impossibly high, your trembling body clashing with his heaving hips, wet sounds echoing through the room, your cries of “haitham!” ringing over and over.

he caught your hips in his hands, forcing you impossibly close, and every brutal, heaving thrust sent sparks of pleasure that made your vision blur. your own orgasm built, waves crashing through you as your walls fluttered and clamped him, shuddering against each pulse of his cock.

“say it,” he demanded, almost desperate. “say my name”

“haitham! haitham! haitham!” you sobbed, every repetition breaking you further, every cry driving him harder, faster, deeper.

the sensation became unbearable, your cunt clenching, grinding against him, every pulse a vice around his cock until finally, with a guttural groan, he came, ropes of his cum filling you utterly, his body shuddering violently as his damp forehead came to press on yours.

his lips crushed into yours as you moaned in the kiss, fingers clawing at his back as his tongue grazes against yours.

you didn’t let him pull out. your legs tightened around him, your own orgasm ripping through you, long, trembling, and overwhelming. every wave of pleasure sent your walls tightening, fluttering, and milking him, dragging him deeper into your climax, until the two of you were gasping, trembling, and utterly wrecked together.

after a few minutes, your legs fell limp around him as he gently pulled out of you, your pussy twitched at this a soft moan leaving you as his cock slips out and the mixture of yours and his cum spilling from inside your cunt dribbling down your ass onto the sheet.

alhaitham laid on your side and pulled you into his arms, your body melting into his touch.

"tell me, how long have you been replacing the characters’ names in your romance books with ours?”

note from usagii !

The grocery store’s air-conditioning blasted cold enough to raise goosebumps on your arms, a sharp contrast to the muggy New York summer outside. You shivered, rubbing your forearms as you grabbed a basket and drifted through the isles. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a bright, sterile hum that matched the strained pulse in your temple. You needed to focus. Just stick to the list. Get in, get out.

First on the list: bread. You turned down the bakery aisle, weaving through a pair of kids wrestling over a trolley like it was a prized race car. You wondered, just briefly, if one of them might suddenly turn into a super-soldier and crash into the shelves. You caught yourself. That paranoia had been creeping up ever since that day, and you had to admit it was exhausting.

Two months. Two months since the floor beneath your desk had cracked open like a jaw, spilling glass and drywall onto the street below. Two months since you had stumbled through the smoke and the alarms, clutching your laptop and half-eaten sandwich, your brain caught in a vicious loop of your worst memory, replaying over and over like a scratched CD.

You gripped the handle of your basket tighter, nails digging into the cheap plastic. You’d made it out just in time to watch a helicopter tilt sideways into the third floor, shattering the windows of the office you’d been sitting in minutes earlier. You remembered the heat, the blinding white flash of the rotors slicing through glass and steel, the rush of air that had nearly pulled you back into the chaos. You hadn’t been able to process it then, and you weren’t sure you could now.

You drew in a slow, steady breath, blinking back to the present as you grabbed a loaf of sourdough. Focus. You had more pressing problems than intrusive memories. Like rent. Or the fact that your employer had declared bankruptcy two days after the incident, leaving you and the rest of your department with nothing but a final, pitying group email about “unprecedented circumstances.” You scoffed, shoving the bread into your basket a bit too hard.

Moving into the canned goods aisle, you scanned the shelves for soup, your eyes lingering on the discount labels. You were still trying to convince yourself that this whole unemployment thing would be a short-term inconvenience, but your bank account said otherwise. You hadn’t even had the energy to look for a new job yet. The idea of sitting in another sterile, glass-panelled office, tapping away at spreadsheets while waiting for the next disaster to strike, felt like a cruel joke.

You turned the corner, debating the merits of tomato versus chicken noodle, when you nearly crashed into a broad chest that felt as solid as a concrete pillar. You jerked back, your basket swinging dangerously close to clipping your own hip and looked up.

The man you’d almost barrelled into towered over you, his shaggy, overgrown hair brushing the collar of his thick, grey cardigan. It hung loose on his frame, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, revealing surprisingly defined, sinewy muscles that stretched the wool in a way that suggested he was used to lifting more than just grocery bags. His eyes, a stormy mix of grey and blue, blinked down at you with a hint of surprise, like he hadn’t expected to be standing here either.

“Oh,” he said, his voice soft and unsure, like someone who rarely spoke first. His hand reached out instinctively as if to steady you, fingers hovering just a breath away from your shoulder before he hesitated, withdrawing his arm like it might burn him.

You blinked up at him, something niggling at the back of your mind. He looked… familiar. Not just in the ‘guy you pass on the street every day’ kind of way, but in a way that prickled at the edges of an old, half-forgotten memory. You stared at his face, the scruffy jawline, the faint scar along his cheekbone, the haunted, cautious eyes that flicked away the second they met yours.

You knew this face.

You knew his face.

Your pulse stuttered.

Then it hit you. The flicker of a greasy hoodie pulled tight around a gaunt, desperate face, a figure silhouetted in the light of your open fridge, a whispered, frantic apology cut off by a steaming cup of ramen splattering across a narrow, bony back.

“Oh my god,” you said, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended.

His eyes widened, a deer-in-headlights kind of terror flashing across his face.

“It’s you.”

“Uh…” He took a half-step back, one hand coming up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “It’s… me?”

“Yeah, you.” You jabbed a finger into his chest, immediately regretting it as your finger hit something disturbingly solid beneath the wool. You winced, pulling your hand back quickly, masking the sharp sting with a tight scowl. “You’re the one who broke into my apartment and stole my TV a few years back!”

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. He blinked once, twice, then seemed to shrink a little into his cardigan, eyes flicking to the side as if he might find an escape route between the rows of chicken noodle and tomato soup.

“Oh. Oh.” He grimaced, his ears turning an impressive shade of pink. “Uh, yeah. I’m… I’m really sorry about that.” He stammered, rubbing his arm awkwardly. “I-I told you I’d replace it.”

You scoffed as you remembered his desperate face twisted with pain from the hot noodles that was thrown at his back, his words barely coming out coherent. “Yeah, well, that’s hard to believe from the guy who bolted out my window with a 43-inch flatscreen and a bad case of ramen burns.”

He flinched, a guilty look crossing his face as he glanced down at his shoes. “Yeah… I deserved that.” You were about to snap back, something cutting and cathartic, when a booming, heavily accented voice echoed down the aisle.

“Bob! There you are my friend!”

You turned, just in time to see a massive, bear-like figure stomping toward you, arms outstretched like he was about to crush the both of you in a bone-cracking bear hug.

Bob turned a little, his head dropping like a guilty puppy. “Oh no…”

The mountain of a man, dressed in a bright red tracksuit and sporting a bushy beard, clapped a meaty hand down on Bob’s shoulder, nearly sending him to his knees. “I have been looking for you everywhere! What are you doing here, hiding among the soup cans like a little mouse?”

You blinked, your mind struggling to keep up. You do know now that the man who stole your TV is named Bob, such a peculiar name.

Alexei’s grip on Bob’s shoulder tightened, his thick fingers nearly disappearing into the oversized grey cardigan, and for a moment, you almost felt a little sorry for the guy. Almost. The big Russian’s bearded face split into a grin, his eyes twinkling like he’d just found an old friend in the canned soup aisle.

“Ah, Bob! Did you find the canned corn ?” he boomed, his deep, accented voice carrying down the aisle and probably into the frozen foods section.

You took a small, instinctive step back, watching as Bob visibly shrank beneath the older man’s enthusiastic grasp.  Alexei’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes narrowing with a sudden, almost childlike excitement. Without warning, he released Bob’s shoulder, reaching into his shopping basket as he brought it up, the box crinkling slightly in his massive hand.

“Look, look!” He leaned in towards you, jabbing a thick finger at the front of the box. “You recognize this?”

You blinked, leaning in despite yourself. The box was a generic-looking brand, the kind that’s always on sale but no one actually buys unless they’re desperate or trying to save a few dollars. The front featured a group of people, posing – Alexei’s finger pointing at a specific man.

You glanced at the person he was pointing at on the box, then back at him. Then back at the box. Then at Bob, who had gone a peculiar shade of pink beneath his scruffy, overgrown hair, his eyes fixed on the tiled floor like he wished he could disappear into it.

The Red Guardian’s grin only grew wider as he watched your confused expression, his finger tapping insistently on the printed image.

“See? See? You recognize, yes?” He straightened, puffing out his chest as if to match the image on the box. You blinked again, torn between second-hand embarrassment and a bizarre kind of awe. “Uh… yeah.” You muttered out, fingers awkwardly playing with the handle of your shopping basket.

His eyes sparkled, clearly thrilled by the recognition. “Yes, yes! You know me!” throwing his hands up causing you and Bob to flinch at the sudden burst of movement.

You tilted your head, watching as he posed with one fist on his hip, the cereal box still clutched in his other hand like it was the Olympic torch. “Red… something?”

He leaned in closer, his beard twitching with anticipation, like a giant, overeager bear.

“Red… Guardian?” you finished, half-question, half-statement.

He slammed the box down onto the edge of the nearest shelf, the impact making the metal rattle and the box to tremble. “Yes! Red Guardian!” he roared, clearly pleased with himself. You took a step back, fingers tightening around your grocery basket. This guy had the energy of a particularly loud uncle at a family barbecue, the kind that smacks you on the back hard enough to make you lose your breath.

“And you?” He pointed at you now, his massive hand blocking out half your vision. “You, what is your name?”

You hesitated, glancing at Bob, who was now staring resolutely at the floor tiles, his shoulders hunched like a child expecting a scolding. You felt a strange, uncomfortable twist in your gut, that same old unease from the ramen incident years ago prickling at the back of your mind.

“It’s, uh…” You cleared your throat, feeling oddly exposed under the Red Guardian’s intense, expectant stare. You croaked out your name, this also catching Bob’s attention, the both of you making eye contact but he quickly broke it off when you glared at him.

Alexei beamed your name out loud, rolling the name around in his mouth like a fine wine. “Beautiful name! Strong name!” He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing down the aisle, his gaze now falling on Bob

“And how do you know our Bob here?” he asks, the grin on his face not disappearing.

Your eyes slid back to Bob, who was now shuffling his feet, his hair falling into his eyes as he fidgeted with the fraying edge of his cardigan sleeve. You squinted at him, a sudden flash of irritation tightening your jaw. Right. You remembered exactly how you knew this guy.

“Oh, Bob here,” you said, making sure to put a lot of emphasis on his name long with letting a hint of your old anger creep into your tone, “stole my TV a few years back.” You scoffed out, you did not have a TV for a good few months and you was just a struggling college student.

Red Guardian’s smile froze, his thick eyebrows climbing towards his hairline. His gaze snapped to Bob, who winced, his ears turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Bob,” Red Guardian said slowly, his thick, bushy eyebrows knitting together in a mock expression of fatherly disappointment. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a loud, exaggerated whisper that still echoed down the aisle. “You did this?”

Bob flinched, his head jerking up as he stammered, “I-I, uh, I told her I’d replace it!” He shot you a panicked, pleading look, his hands wringing the hem of his cardigan like a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, yeah. Right before you dove out my window with my flatscreen under your arm!” you pointed your index finger towards him in an excusing manner watching as he flinched at his, your brows furrow at this…he seemed like someone who is always on edge.

Red Guardian made a deep, disapproving sound in his throat, his head shaking slowly as he clapped a heavy hand down on Bob’s shoulder once again, making the man visibly wince.

“Tsk, tsk, Bob. This is no good.” He turned back to you, his eyes sparkling with a kind of mischievous, paternal glee. “He must make this right, yes? Repay his debt. Prove he is a good man! And no longer bad chicken Bob!” he exclaims out loud, your even more confused now.

‘Chicken Bob?’

Before you could protest, the Red Guardian’s grip tightened on Bob’s shoulder, his other hand sweeping towards you in a grand, magnanimous gesture. “Bob, you must invite this fine woman to dinner. Show her that you are reformed, yes?”

“W-wait, what?” Bob’s eyes shot wide, his face blanching beneath his scruffy beard.

“Yes, yes!” Red Guardian barrelled on, clearly delighted with his own idea. “You will come to dinner with us, yes?” He turned to you, his eyes bright, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. “It will be great honour to have such a strong, brave woman in our home. We make great borscht! Very delicious!”

You opened your mouth to object, to point out that you still had half a grocery list to get through, not to mention a few years of lingering resentment towards the man who had once made off with your only decent piece of electronics, but the Red Guardian’s booming voice cut you off.

“Come, come! Do not worry about groceries. I will make you borscht. Bob will show you he is a good man. Yes, Bob?”

Bob made a small, strangled sound, his eyes flicking between you and the Red Guardian like a trapped animal.

“Uh… y-yeah?” he managed, his voice so small it was almost swallowed by the grocery store’s humming lights.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Red Guardian was already steering you and Bob towards the exit, the cereal box abandoned on the shelf behind you, his booming voice echoing through the aisles.

“Come, come, we will have great feast! You will see, Bob is very good man now!”

You shot Bob a sharp, exasperated look as you stumbled along beside them, your brain still scrambling to catch up. How the hell had this become your life?

⊹

The walk to the  Watch Tower – the tower that now housed the ‘new’ avengers - was mercifully short, though it felt longer than it was with the Red Guardian practically booming with every step, his heavy boots clapping against the pavement like a small parade. The morning air was crisp, the sun cutting through the towering glass and steel around you, casting long, sharp shadows across the cracked pavement. You managed to get your groceries- Alexei insisting to pay for them as you clutched the bag tighter, the contents rustling softly against your leg as you tried to keep pace with the oversized man beside you.

Every few steps, you felt Bob’s presence behind you, shuffling quietly, his cardigan sleeves pulled down over his hands like a nervous schoolboy. You caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glossy glass doors as they reached the base of the tower, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a fraction of a second before darting away again.

He still looked like a ghost of a man, all messy, unkempt hair and slouched shoulders, you almost felt bad for him, but the memory of your missing TV kept you firmly on the side of irritated.

Alexei, however, was in a world of his own, practically vibrating with energy as he slapped his massive palm against the sleek, polished metal of the tower’s entrance, his voice echoing off the glass.

“Come, come! We are home now!” He gestured grandly for you to enter, his broad, calloused hand sweeping towards the sliding glass doors.

You hesitated, glancing up at the towering structure. The sleek, reflective surface stretched up into the cloudless sky, the sunlight catching on the edges of a large A near the top. You swallowed, feeling a flicker of nervousness and nostalgia – you had been here before, long ago – work purposes, memories you just wanted to tuck away.

Before you could fully process the absurdity of the situation, the Red Guardian had already marched through the doors, his heavy boots clanking against the marble floors inside, leaving you and Bob to awkwardly shuffle in behind him.

The lobby was cavernous, the high ceilings stretching upwards like a cathedral, glass and steel arching around you in a way that felt both futuristic and oppressive. Soft, ambient music hummed through hidden speakers, the faint, sterile scent of air conditioning tingling in your nose. You glanced over at Bob, who was still staring at his shoes, his long, bony fingers twisting into the frayed edges of his cardigan sleeves.

You shifted your grocery bag to your other hand, your fingers starting to ache from the weight. Alexei was already jabbing at the elevator button with one thick, impatient finger, muttering something in rapid Russian under his breath as he waited for the doors to open.

With a soft ding, the elevator slid open, its brushed steel doors parting like the jaws of some enormous, metallic beast.  Alexei stepped inside without hesitation, gesturing for you and Bob to follow.

You stepped in, feeling the air turn colder as the doors slid shut behind you. The soft, mechanical whirr of the elevator filled the silence as Alexei punched in the floor number, his massive knuckles practically dwarfing the tiny, glowing buttons.

For a moment, the only sounds were the gentle hum of the elevator and the faint rustle of your grocery bag as you adjusted it against your hip. You glanced sideways at Bob, who was staring intently at the corner of the elevator, his face a study in nervous concentration.

You tightened your grip on the bag, the plastic cutting into your fingers as you felt a fresh wave of irritation bubble up. How the hell had this guy gone from petty TV thief to… whatever the hell this was? You eyed him again, trying to reconcile the image of the jittery, scrawny man beside you with the half-forgotten memory of him scrambling out your window, your flatscreen clutched awkwardly in his arms.

The Red Guardian’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the silence like a hammer on glass. “Ah, Yelena will be so happy to meet you! Maybe you and her can be friends, yes? She needs more friends” He gave you a broad, toothy grin, his beard twitching as he chuckled to himself. “And you, Bob, you should also make more friends. You are too quiet, like a little ghost.”

Bob made a small, strangled sound, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for the briefest of moments before darting away again. You scowled, your fingers tightening around the grocery bag handle.

You shifted awkwardly, your eyes darting around the room as the uncomfortable silence stretched on. You felt Bob’s presence beside you, his hand twitching slightly as if he wanted to shove his hands into his pockets but was too nervous to move.

The elevator ride felt long- longer then you remembered. Finally, you shot him a sharp, sideways glance, Alexei was humming something in Russian lost in his own world as you lowered your voice to a harsh whisper. “How the hell did you end up here?”

Bob’s eyes widened, his head jerking up like a startled deer. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stammered, “I-I… it’s a long story.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the weight of the forgotten ramen incident settling heavily in your chest. “I did not know the b-vengers also took on petty thieves”  you muttered, your grip tightening on your grocery bag.

Bob’s head tilted slightly, the harsh white light casting faint shadows across the sharp lines of his face. Your words stung like a bandit aid being ripped, his hair hung loose around his shoulders, a little too long, a little too messy, and his jaw tightened at your words. He tried his best to block memories of his past, breaking into peoples homes- stealing their valuables- all in order to buy meth – to get high.

“It’s… complicated,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze flicking down to his scuffed boots.

You huffed, eyes narrowing further. “Complicated? You broke into my apartment and stole my TV. That’s not complicated, that’s just petty crime.”

Before Bob could sputter out a response, the elevator gave a soft chime and the doors slid open, revealing the sprawling lounge of the Avengers Tower. The space was sleek and modern, polished floors reflecting the city lights streaming in from the tall glass windows. Low, comfortable couches were scattered around, and a massive screen dominated one wall, currently flashing muted news headlines.

A lady with short blonde hair spots the three of you her sharp, curious eyes immediately locked onto the three of you as she crossed the room, her genie pig clutched in one hand, its tiny paws scrabbling against her fingers. She cocked her head, blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she sized you up, her expression unreadable before she turned to look towards Bob and Alexei.

“You do know you need to inform me first before you go anywhere with Bob, dad ?” she asked her voice laced with annoyance as Alexei gives her a sheepish grin.

“The boy needed the fresh air; thought grocery shopping will help him out.” He states, Bob just nervously standing next to him – Yelena gives the two a small smile – her dad was with Bob, she should not worry that much but at the same time her father has a blabber mouth and says things a bit too quickly before he thinks- which could trigger Bob.

Her gave now falls back on you as you were standing awkwardly through that little conversation, the urge to just run out, to disappear was becoming greater as her eyes locked with yours- stern.

“Dad,” she said, her tone clipped, her gaze still not leaving you. “You know you can’t just bring strangers in here.” Alexei’s face brightened, as if this was exactly the response he’d been hoping for. He clasped his large hands together, making the genie pig in Yelena’s grip flinch.

“Relax, Yelena. Bob here needs to make up for a mistake,” he said, clapping a massive hand down on Bob’s shoulder, making him flinch slightly. “And I thought, what better way than a dinner? A little easier on the champ.” He gave Bob a hearty shake, his bicep bulging as he grinned before he says he needs to prepare dinner in an excited tone, rushing to what you assume is the kitchen.

Yelena’s eyes narrowed further, her suspicion deepening as she looked from you and then to the clearly mortified Bob, who was steadily turning a deep shade of pink.

“What did he do?” she asked, eyes locking onto you, clearly expecting some explanation for this odd little reunion.

You didn’t miss the way Bob’s shoulders tightened, his jaw clenching as if bracing for impact. For a second, you considered letting him squirm a little longer, but the memory of your old, second-hand TV, the one you’d scrimped and saved for, flashed through your mind.

“He stole my TV a few years back,” you said, keeping your tone as casual as you could, but not quite managing to keep the bite out of your voice.

Yelena did not seem phased by what you had said as if its something of the normal as she turns towards him. ‘Did he steal her TV too ? is this a normal ? why are these ‘avengers’ so casual with a petty thief ?’ you thought, you must wanted to go home now.

“Bob,” she said, her voice soft and calm as if she switched off her scary demeanour to calm and soft one- just for him, just for Bob.

“You stole a TV?”

Bob shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his face a deep, blotchy red. He muttered something under his breath, eyes firmly fixed on the floor, his broad shoulders almost curling in on themselves.

“Wow,” Yelena said, leaning back, clearly enjoying this. “You really are full of surprises, Bob”

Bob’s head dropped lower, and you could practically feel the waves of embarrassment radiating off him.

“ It was when I was on meth!” he quickly justifies, your eyes widen slightly at this new found information, that actually explains a lot. “I-I needed cash so I used to steal stuf-f” he stammered out his eyes now locking with yours, a guilty expression on his face but his eyes were soft and sincere “and I’m really sorry I stole your TV, I did not want to but the voic-” “Okay Bob, that’s enough you don’t need to explain yourself anymore, what has been done in the past is in the past, you don’t have to worry, right?” Yelena had caught him off, her gaze now hard on you, trying to intimidate you into saying right- you looked at her as she wrapped a hand around his wrist- not in a forceful manner but in a way to comfort him ? then you looked at him, his eyes seemed distant, he seemed to be drifting – something was not right as you gazed back to Yelena, her gaze still cold and hard on you as if telling you to go along with her.

You took a deep breath in; a small smile stretches on your face. “Right, the past in the past” you said as sweet as you could , Yelena letting out a breath she did not even know she was holding, Bob’s eyes flickering towards you, a slight shine to them.

What is wrong with him ?

“After all, to be here with the new avengers means you have done something super good” you said, you tried not to sound sarcastic, but Bob seemed to be like a deer caught in headlights, his mind slightly spiralling.

‘You are only here so that you don’t become a threat to others’ a voice, no- its voiced whispered in his ear – his breath hitching, eyes turning glassy. Yelena noticed this quickly, a hand wrapping around his shoulder.

“Why don’t we go and sit down ? huh ? Bob? Lets go have a seat, you can pet Cucumber!” she says all of this out quickly as she lead Bob to the couch, your gaze followed them, next to the couch was a guinea pig – ginger and white, it was lazily seated on a mini pillow before being gently grabbed by Yelena- the guinea pig let out a small ‘pip’ before it was placed in Bob’s hands.

“Here pet Cucumber – think happy thoughts!” Yelena says, you just watched all of this happen awkwardly with your grocery bag making your fingers red, why the hell was this woman babying this grown ass man ? was the first thought that came to mind – Yelena’s gaze snapped towards you, her head cocking towards the couch.

“Sit.” Her voice was stern, this caused you to gulp as you made your way almost tripping on the rug towards the couch. ‘God, did I do something wrong?’ you really wanted to go home now, your heart was beating fast.

You sink into the far end of the couch, the soft cushions sagging beneath you as the worn fabric creaks under your weight. Your grocery bags rustle as you set them down beside you, the thin plastic crinkling sharply in the quiet room. Bob hesitates for a moment, his gaze flicking to you, then quickly away, before his gaze falls back on cucumber – who was happily sat on his lap. His knees bend stiffly, his limbs too long for the small space, and the fabric of his oversized cardigan bunches awkwardly around his wrists, the sleeves slipping down to cover his knuckles as he gently brushes his thumb on the animal.

For a moment, he just stares at his fingers, his thumbs rubbing slow, nervous rhythm on Cucumbers head, his shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself smaller. You catch a faint tremble in his hands, the slight, uneven twitch of his fingers - it’s a small thing, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, but you catch it – the subtle, constant fidgeting, the way his breath hitches slightly whenever you glance his way.

Yelena sighs a breath of relief as if she had just stopped a bomb from exploding - she perches herself on the armrest, her arm stretching along the back of the couch, fingers absentmindedly scratching at a threadbare patch in the upholstery. The tiny guinea pig in Bob’s lap, sniffs at the air, its tiny pink nose twitching as it detects the faint, salty scent of your groceries.

Yelena tilts her head, her sharp green eyes flicking between you and Bob, catching the tension that crackles faintly in the air. Her gaze now falling on the paperwork that was scattered on the desk, a groan escaping past her lips “I thought Bucky was going to handle this” she sighs out annoyedly – it was mission reports that Valentina wanted back. Yelena thumbed through them, she knew her dad would want to do it but she don’t really trust him because he will say he is going to do it but ends up doing something else, Ava does not want to do them by choice, Walker – well he will straight up say no, and Bucky offers to do it but is also busy with his congress stuff and her? Well, it’s just tedious.  

Yelena’s accent thick but her tone light, as if she’s trying to ease the awkwardness settling around you, “we really should get a personal assistant. Valentina keeps dumping more and more crap on us.” She mutters more so to herself, feeling a headache forming while she stares at the cluttered coffee table, where stacks of mission reports and loose paperwork spill over the edges, threatening to slide onto the floor. One particularly crumpled page still bears the faint outline of tiny teeth marks – Cucumber’s latest snack, no doubt.

You heard what she had said, the need for a personal assistant, maybe you could just add your little two cents as you let out a soft, bitter chuckle, your fingers curling tightly around the thin plastic handles of your grocery bags. “A personal assistant, huh?” you murmur, leaning back into the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot among the lumpy cushions. You catch Bob’s shoulders tensing slightly, his head ducking lower.

“Well,” you continue, tilting your head slightly, a crooked smile pulling at your lips as you glance at Bob, trying to break the awkward tension “I could assist you with that.” You pause, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, “And maybe Bob can help me get the job, you know, as a favour. Since he did steal my TV.” You still did not want to let go of the whole TV stealing incident, this seemed to irk Yelena now.

“I don’t think we would need a girl plucked from the grocery store to be our personal assistant, especially one still hung up on a stolen TV from years ago.” She states, her voice clipped, each word a precise cut. “ Besides, I highly doubt you have the …mindset for such fields”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back a little “Depends on the field” you reply, tone light but your eyes sharp, catching the subtle shift in Yelena’s posture. “You’d be surprised what some of us pick up along the way”

Bob’s head snaps up, his eyes wide and startled, his mouth opens and closes wordlessly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to find his voice. For a moment, he looks like a cornered animal, his dark eyes flicking nervously between you and Yelena, his fingers twisting together with renewed urgency.

Before Yelena could respond – her eyes held suspicion, Alexei bursts through the kitchen doors – the smell of food, seeping through as he grins widely.

“The dinner is ready!”

The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall, glass walls of the penthouse, casting long, slanting beams across the polished marble floors. The city below pulsed with life, a distant hum of engines and faint, echoing car horns rising from the streets, muffled by the thick, soundproof glass. The air inside was cooler, tinged with the faint, lingering scent of ozone from the tower’s advanced air filtration system.

Mel leaned against the glass railing, a sleek, black tablet balanced on her forearm, the screen flickering with a steady stream of security alerts. Valentina stood beside her, one hand wrapped around a steaming cup of dark coffee, her expression sharp and slightly irritated, her eyes locked on the swirling security feed.

“Please tell me it’s not another one of Alexei’s weird karaoke nights,” Valentina muttered, her voice low, the edges of her words sharpened by a hint of annoyance. “Last time, it was that poor Pizza guy, and I still don’t know how he ended up in a Spider-Man onesie, belting out ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ at three in the morning.”

Mel smiled slightly, tilting the tablet slightly to catch the glint of the overhead lights. “No, nothing like that. But… well, we might have a situation. Look at this.” She tapped the screen, the security footage flickering as the camera angles shifted, closing in on the lounge below.

Valentina’s eyes narrowed as she took in the scene – Yelena’s wary posture, Bob’s hunched shoulders, and you, perched awkwardly at the end of the couch, your fingers still curled tightly around the crinkling plastic handles of your grocery bag, the faint sheen of sweat dotting your hairline despite the cool, climate-controlled air.

Valentina watched the security camera, a scoff leaving past her lips at Yelena complain about simple paperwork and you talking about being their personal assistant.  Your face away from the camera, your hair obscuring your face.

“why does Alexei bring random civilians to the tower? Gosh, Mel please add that I need to give them a warning on that – especially to that Red Guardian” she could feel a headache forming, ever since she announced the bunch of morally grey ‘heroes’ as the new avengers, her days of peace had been short – needing to cater to every single one of their demands.

She was just about to tell Mel, that she did not want to see anymore until your face came into view - Valentina’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting slightly as she took in the scene, her pulse quickening, a faint, instinctive prickle of suspicion tightening the muscles along the back of her neck.

“Wait,” she said, her voice low, her fingers tightening around the edge of her coffee mug. “Zoom in on the girl. Let me see her face.”

Mel hesitated, then swiped a finger across the screen, the pixels tightening around your face, capturing the faint crease between your brows, the annoyed twist of your lips, the dark, smudged shadows beneath your eyes.

Valentina’s breath hitched, her sharp eyes locking onto your face, the faintest flicker of recognition sparking in her gaze.

“Run facial recognition,” she snapped, her tone low, the sharp, edge creeping back into her voice.

The screen flickered, the system processing the command, the dull, mechanical hum of the tablet filling the brief, breathless silence. Then, with a soft chime, the results flashed across the glass, lines of text scrolling rapidly, the bright red banner of a classified file pulsing at the top with your picture on the left-hand side.

NAME: [Your Name]

ROLE: Strategic Planner, Stark Industries

PROJECT: [REDACTED] - Experimental Weapon Development (Scrapped)

STATUS: Resigned, Position Vacated

Valentina’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her lips, her fingers curling around the edge of the tablet.

“Well, well,” she murmured, her eyes still locked on your face, frozen in a moment of nervous laughter beside Yelena.

 “Maybe the New Avengers do need a personal assistant after all.”

Author’s note

I’m so sorry if this feels rusheddd, I just wanted to get my ideas out uahajw but but I’m excited – reader is slightly a beech but but she will redeem herself!! I promise hehe

Please do leave a like, comment, reblog - would very much appreciate

After slipping out of the college building, you both move quickly toward Alhaitham’s car, almost as if trying to stay out of sight, like you’re concealing a secret too precious to be seen. His hand hovers near the small of your back, guiding you with a gentle but firm touch, and your pulse races each time his fingers brush against you. In the dimming evening light, shadows lengthen over the campus, wrapping around you as though trying to draw you together in a quiet intimacy.

Once you reach his car, you both slide in without a word, but the silence thrums with something unspoken. The scent of leather and the faintest trace of his cologne settle around you, mingling with the soft warmth of the evening air. He starts the car, and you can’t help but glance at him, noticing the slight dishevelment in his appearance—the faint tousling of his hair, the loosened collar, small signs of the heated moments just passed. There’s a charged stillness between you, and when his gaze shifts over, meeting yours, you both exchange a look that says everything without a word.

As he pulls out of the lot, you feel an ache blooming inside—a desire mixed with anticipation, but there’s an unexpected nervousness threading through it all. Your eyes drift to the darkening sky outside, watching as the soft hues of the sunset melt away, replaced by a quiet dusk that grows thicker with every mile.

Glancing sideways, you catch his profile in the fading light, his expression calm and controlled, yet there’s an undeniable heat in his gaze when he looks at you—a glint that makes your heart race and your thoughts spin even faster.

Your mind starts racing with a plethora of questions. What would happen after tonight? Would he even care to know you beyond this? Or was this all just a moment of curiosity for him? You’re excited, yes, but the uncertainty feels like a weight pressing on your chest but then, beneath the excitement and nervous thrill, another reality sharpens into focus—he’s your professor. The thought winds around your mind, a reminder of just how complicated this could become.

The closer you get to your apartment, the more your mind races, tangling with thoughts you can’t quite silence.

In the dim glow of the passing streetlights, he notices the shift in your expression, and his eyes linger on you a little longer. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly, his voice careful, threading through the silence with a calm steadiness.

You hesitate, glancing down, hands tightening against each other in your lap. There’s a flutter of uncertainty and the gnawing fear that maybe you’re reading too much into this. “Yeah, I just…” You trail off, trying to find the words, but they feel heavy on your tongue, reluctant to reveal the vulnerability simmering beneath the surface.

He pulls the car to the side of the road, dim and tucked away, turning his full attention to you. His gaze is so intent that it makes you feel seen in a way that both unnerves and comforts you. His expression softens, and the patience in his light turquoise eyes calms some of the jittery nerves swirling in your stomach.

“If you’re not sure about this,” he begins, his tone gentle and grounding, “we don’t have to go any further. I can just take you home, and we’ll leave things as they were.”

The softness in his voice, the reassurance without expectation, makes something twist inside of you, and you shake your head almost instinctively. “No.” Your hand reaches out, tentatively finding his where it rests on the console, and his fingers curl around yours, enveloping your hand in his. The size difference is striking—his fingers strong, warm, almost encompassing yours entirely. A small comfort, grounding you.

Looking down at your joined hands, your heart stutters with a mix of emotions. Could you really mean this much to him, as more than just something fleeting? Or are you just trying to comfort yourself with false hopes ? You gather your breath, the words tangled in your chest, but you finally find the courage to let them out, voice barely a whisper. “I… I really like you, Alhaitham,” you admit, eyes flickering up to meet his. “Even though I couldn’t stand you at first,” you add with a soft, nervous laugh, hoping the admission doesn’t seem foolish.

His thumb gently traces over your knuckles, a faint smile lifting his lips. “I’m aware,” he says quietly, the teasing lilt in his voice lightening the moment, his eyes crinkling at the corners just slightly, like he’s remembering every sharp look and dismissive glance you ever sent his way.

You try to smile, but the vulnerability hangs heavy. “It’s just… after this, I don’t know how things will be. And I don’t want this to just be… a one-time thing.” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying the fear you’ve tried so hard to hold back. “I know it probably doesn’t mean as much to you. I mean… I’m just a cam girl to you, right?”

His expression shifts, a flicker of surprise and something deeper crossing his face. Before you can say anything else, he reaches out, his hand cradling your cheek, thumb tracing softly over your skin, grounding you in that gentle touch. He looks at you with an intensity that goes beyond words, like he’s peeling back every layer, taking in everything you’re struggling to hide.

“It wasn’t… always this way,” he admits, his voice low and warm. “At first, yes—it was just curiosity. But the more I watched, the more I noticed things I didn’t expect.” His gaze holds yours, his sincerity radiating through every word. “You aren’t just a face on a screen. There’s a depth to you—how you speak, how you think. I like you for… more than what you’re afraid of.”

The honesty in his eyes, the gentleness in his touch, dissolves some of the tension in your chest. But the moment feels fragile, like the weight of your insecurities might shatter it, and your breath hitches, the emotion catching in your throat.

Before you realize it, a tear slips down your cheek, thick and glistening, catching the dim light like a crystal. You feel foolish, trying to wipe it away, but he brushes it aside first, his thumb gentle as it trails over your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

He misreads the reason behind your tears, concern softening his gaze. “You don’t have to feel pressured into anything,” he murmurs. “We can stop here, if this is too much for you.”

You shake your head, your hand rising to cover his where it cups your cheek, grounding you in the warmth and steadiness of him. “No, it’s… it’s not that,” you whisper, voice barely steady. “I’m just… scared, I guess. I’m scared of wanting more.”

His thumb brushes gently along your jawline, and his eyes hold yours, unwavering. “You don’t need to be afraid of that.” His voice is low, but each word carries a quiet conviction. “I like you too. For more than what you think.”

The sincerity in his tone, the simple truth of his words, reaches something deep within you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the warmth there, a tenderness that mirrors the feelings you’ve kept guarded for so long. It’s enough to ground you, to soothe the ache of uncertainty, even if just for this moment.

For a while, neither of you speak, the silence settling comfortably between you as his hands stay cradling your face, your fingers gently brushing over his. His eyes search yours with a quiet intensity, as though he’s memorizing every detail, every unspoken thought hidden behind your gaze. And in that stillness, you feel a kind of calmness settle over you—a calmness that promises that whatever comes next, this moment is real.

With the air between you charged, and his touch grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected, your gaze falls to his mouth, lingering there as your pulse quickens. Gathering the courage from the look in his eyes—gentle yet intense, like he’s offering a silent promise—you lean in, heart racing as your lips finally meet his.

The first contact is soft, tentative, but quickly the kiss deepens, taking on a fervent urgency. His hands slide up, one hand steady on the side of your face, the other resting along your back, pulling you closer until there’s no distance left. Your mouths part in sync, and the kiss grows hungrier, tongues brushing, tasting, as if you’re both pouring out every unspoken feeling into that single moment. The sensation is overwhelming, and his mouth against yours feels like a perfect mix of warmth and something deeper, as though he’s letting you glimpse every emotion he’s held back.

Without breaking the kiss, Alhaitham’s hands find your waist, his grip firm but gentle as he guides you across the console, pulling you into his lap. You settle against him, feeling the strength beneath his steady composure, the subtle shift in his breath, as if even he is losing his usual restraint. His hand splays across your lower back, holding you securely as your fingers tangle into his hair, drawing him closer, desperate for more.

You both fit together, the closeness erasing all hesitation. His fingers press into your back, drawing you even closer, and when his tongue slides against yours again, a soft sound escapes you, caught between surprise and desire. The kiss continues, long and unbroken, as if neither of you want it to end. Each movement, each soft press of his lips and gentle trace of his hands, conveys the quiet intensity that words can’t quite capture.

Finally, he pulls back just enough for his forehead to rest against yours, breaths mingling in the close air. His gaze, now clouded and intent, meets yours, and in that stillness, you realize how much you both wanted this moment—how it goes beyond just the physical, reaching somewhere neither of you had planned.

Your apartment welcomed the both of you in hushed tones, the soft click of the door behind you folding the night outside. You slipped your shoes off with quiet ease, and Alhaitham followed, the space still unfamiliar to him, yet already wrapped in the scent of you—warm, faintly floral, lived-in.

He didn’t ask where to go. He didn’t need to. When you offered your hand, he took it without hesitation, your fingers weaving into his as you guided him through the soft-lit hall and into your bedroom. It was modest, personal. A place shaped by your solitude and quiet nights. He stood there for a moment, letting his eyes settle on the details—the books on your nightstand, the folds in your bedsheets, the way the curtains swayed slightly from an open window.

You turned to him then, your hand still in his, delicate and steady. “Would you pick something for me? And to put it on ?” you asked, voice hushed like a confession. “For tonight’s stream.”

There was no playfulness in your tone—only trust. An offering.

He nods. Wordlessly, you slipped your fingers from his and walked to your wardrobe. When you opened it, the different outfits stretched toward him like a quiet invitation. You stepped aside to give him room, and he moved forward with a kind of reverence, letting his gaze drift slowly over silks and lace, colours and textures, all these glimpses of the you the world never truly knew.

His hand hovered for a breath before settling on a piece—black, delicate, the kind of fabric that would whisper over skin and hold moonlight in its threads. He drew it out gently, as though it were something sacred.

And then—he simply looked at you. Eyes steady, mesmerized. Like he wasn’t just seeing a woman, but a moment. A choice. A silence filled with meaning.

 Alhaitham gently held up the delicate black lingerie he has picked for you, his eyes met yours, lingering with a mixture of admiration and restraint. The sheer fabric, detailed with intricate lace and soft ribbons, seemed almost fragile in his hands, yet he handled it with reverence, as though it were crafted just for you. His gaze roamed over the piece before returning to meet your eyes, silently asking if you were ready.

As your fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, you felt Alhaitham’s eyes on you, watching your every movement with an intensity that made the room feel warmer. You took a deep, steadying breath, your heart hammering in your chest, then slowly lifted the fabric over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Your hands nimbly work at your bra, snapping it open and releasing your breasts.

Your face burns red, mind racing with thousands of thoughts. You couldn't believe you where undressing in front of your professor, the thought of this made your skin flush and body tremble as his gaze lingered, tracing the lines of your form as if trying to capture each detail, his usual calm demeanor shifting, almost breaking.

Your fingers hooked at your skirt, gulping lighting as you pulled the material down revealing the delicate  panties you wore, adorned with a tiny bow at the front.

The fabric clung to your folds, accentuating the shape of your cunt. A subtle dampness had formed between your folds, making the material slightly sheer, hinting at your body's response to his presence. Alhaitham admired the way the panties hugged you perfectly, creating a contrast that was both innocent and alluring.

Your gaze falls back on him, his grip on the lingerie tight and his eyes never left the sight of your body, drinking it in, you hesitated only slightly before hooking your fingers into the sides of your underwear, feeling sligtly conscious.

His eyes held an unspoken encouragement, unwavering and patient, as if he wanted you to take your time and savor this vulnerable moment.

Finally, you pushed the last piece of fabric down, letting it pool at your feet.  You stood completely bare before him, every nerve in your body heightened.

Your nipples were perked from the cold chill from the room, your pussy glistening from your arousal— the sight of you made Alhaitham’s cock throb.

Though he had already seen you in your most intimate moments through the screen, standing here now, bare and vulnerable in front of him, felt entirely different. His gaze roamed over you, slow and reverent, drinking in every detail as if memorizing it. There was an awe in his eyes, as if the glow of your skin and the curve of your form held a softness that had been missed by any camera lens. Here, under his intense gaze, you felt more ethereal than ever, like he was seeing something hidden beneath the surface.

Alhaitham took a step closer, his expression softened, yet his eyes held a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers skimming along your shoulder and down the curve of your arm, a featherlight touch that left goosebumps in its wake. His touch felt reverent, each brush of his hand tracing your form with a sense of purpose.

When he began to dress you, guiding each delicate piece of lingerie onto your skin, his hands worked slowly, his fingers pressing gently into the plushness of your thighs as he adjusted the garters and straps. His hands traced upwards, pausing as his fingertips brushed close to your core, teasing, lingering there with an excruciating lightness. His gaze never left yours, as though drawn to the expression in your eyes, a magnetic pull that kept him anchored.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low hum, his fingers still teasingly close but never quite touching. “More than I could have imagined.”

The words left you breathless, and the ghostlike traces of his hands, the heat of his proximity, only intensified the longing pooling between you. His touch was filled with restraint, a slow burn, making every gentle, teasing pass of his fingers a silent promise for what was yet to come. Once Alhaitham had stepped out of frame, he takes a seat on a chair that was directly behind your cam set up. Your eyes were drawn to him, his intense eyes stare at you, you couldn't help but stare at the way

The live session began with a soft chime, and you immediately slipped into your usual persona, a flirtatious smile gracing your lips as you leaned forward, ensuring the angle was just enough to tease your audience without giving too much away.

“Good evening, my loves,” you purred, your voice dripping with honey. “Miss Bunny missed you all so much. Did you miss me too?”

The chat exploded with responses, compliments flooding in about how beautiful you looked tonight, how stunning your lingerie was, and how they had been counting the hours until they could see you again. Your fingers danced over the comments as you read them aloud, your tone playful and coy.

“‘You look ravishing tonight, Bunny.’ Aw, thank you! I try my best for you,” you cooed, shifting slightly on the bed, your skin prickling with awareness.

But despite your focus on the screen, your gaze kept betraying you, darting back to where Alhaitham sat behind the camera. His eyes—those piercing aquamarine depths—bore into you, unwavering and intense. The dim light made him appear almost predatory, the sharp lines of his face casting shadows that highlighted the slight tension in his jaw. His shirt stretched over his broad chest, the muscles beneath barely contained, and his long legs spread slightly, a picture of composed control.

Your breath hitched as you adjusted your position, pressing your clothed mound against the soft mattress beneath you, seeking any kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs. His gaze was doing things to you that the camera never could, igniting a need that made your body hum.

“‘You seem a little distracted tonight, Bunny,’” you read aloud with a pout, trying to brush off the comment as casually as possible. “Oh, I’m sorry, loves. My professor has been stressing me out. So much work to do after this stream, you wouldn’t believe it.” You added a playful whine, letting your bottom lip jut out in a pout, but the sudden stillness from behind the camera made your stomach twist.

Then you saw it.

“‘Oh, does Miss Bunny have a crush on her professor? We all heard you last night~’”

Your eyes widened, the heat rushing to your face as if you had been caught in the act. For a split second, you froze, unable to tear your gaze from the message, and you heard the faintest sound of movement behind you—a soft exhale from Alhaitham, his presence suddenly heavier in the room.

You quickly tried to recover, laughing it off with a nervous giggle, your voice a pitch higher than usual. “You all have such vivid imaginations,” you murmured, your cheeks burning.

But then another comment caught your eye:

“‘Why don’t you show us how much you like your professor, Bunny? Touch yourself while thinking about him.’”

The suggestion made your breath catch, your immediate instinct to decline, to change the subject and move on. But as you glanced back at Alhaitham, his eyes locked with yours, an idea sparked.

The thought of teasing him, of showing him how much power you could wield even in this vulnerable setting, made your pulse quicken. If he wanted to act unaffected, so composed, you would test that resolve.

“Hmm,” you murmured, your lips curving into a slow, sultry smile. “You want me to do that? To think about my professor while I…”

You trailed off, letting your fingers trail teasingly along your thigh, drawing the movement out for maximum effect. Your eyes flicked back to Alhaitham, whose expression remained stoic, though the sharpness in his gaze betrayed the tension simmering beneath his calm façade.

“Well,” you continued, your tone low and seductive, “maybe I’ll indulge you just this once…”

Leaning back slightly, you trailed a finger along your collarbone, letting the soft material of your lingerie shift just enough to tease without revealing too much. The chat erupted with responses, flooding your screen with suggestions and desires.

“Well, loves,” you purred, your voice like velvet, “what do you want me to do tonight? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The messages came in fast, some playful, others downright filthy. You skimmed through them, your lips curving into a coy smile.

“‘Touch yourself, Bunny,’” you read aloud, letting a breathy chuckle escape. “‘Let us see how much you’re craving.’”

Your fingers drifted down to the sheer fabric covering your thighs, tracing slow, deliberate circles as you played up the anticipation. You were already soaked, your arousal pooling and seeping through the delicate garment. The cool air against your heated skin only heightened your awareness of just how wet you were.

“All for you,” you whispered, letting your voice dip lower, your hand brushing over the sensitive spot between your legs. The friction made you gasp softly, the sound slipping out before you could stop it.

Behind the camera, Alhaitham shifted. The faintest creak of the chair reached your ears, and you dared to glance at him. His aquamarine eyes were darkened, a storm of emotions swirling within them—desire, tension, and something almost primal. His jaw was clenched, the muscles there tightening as he watched you.

The lighting cast soft shadows on his face, emphasising the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jawline. His hair looked slightly tousled, strands falling over his forehead, catching the dim glow of the room. His shirt clung to his chest, outlining the firm lines of his muscles, and his slacks were taut, leaving little to the imagination as his thighs tensed.

Your gazes locked, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, your fingers dipping lower, pressing against the damp fabric as a soft moan escaped your lips. His stare never wavered, and you could see the subtle movement of his throat as he swallowed hard, his restraint slipping.

The chat buzzed with excitement, and you picked out another comment, your voice breathless as you read: “‘Roleplay for us, Bunny. Pretend he’s watching you.’”

You hesitated for a moment, the suggestion sparking a wicked idea. Adjusting yourself on the bed, you let your legs part slightly, giving the camera—and Alhaitham—a better view.

“Are you watching, sir?” you murmured, your tone dripping with seduction. “Do you see how much I need you?”

The words hung in the air, and you didn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s hands gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, but his eyes betrayed him, darkened and smouldering as they raked over your every movement.

You pushed the fabric aside slightly, your slick arousal glistening in the low light, and ran your fingers along your folds, teasing yourself as a louder moan slipped free. The sound seemed to snap something in him; his posture stiffened, and his jaw tightened as though he was fighting an internal battle.

Your eyes darted back to his lap, noticing the unmistakable strain in his slacks. His arousal was evident, and the knowledge sent a rush of heat through you. You locked eyes with him again, your gaze challenging, daring him to do something as you pushed the boundaries further.

“Would you punish me for being such a tease, Professor?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly from the sensations coursing through you but still carrying that edge of defiance. “Or would you finally give me what I’ve been craving?”

Your eyes darted to Alhaitham as he pulled out his phone, his expression composed and unreadable. Despite his calm demeanour, the air around him was electric, heavy with an unspoken tension. You shifted slightly, feeling the thin fabric of your lingerie press against your damp skin as you adjusted yourself on the bed. His sharp teal eyes caught yours briefly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there—a knowing look that made your stomach twist deliciously with anticipation.

Moments later, the familiar notification chimed, signalling that User1102 had joined your stream. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced at the comment section, his name boldly displayed among the sea of usernames.

"Ease a finger in for professor. [$100]"

The boldness of the request made your breath hitch. Your gaze snapped back to Alhaitham, who was leaning casually against the chair, his phone resting in his hand as if he hadn’t just typed out that audacious message. His eyes glimmered with mischief, a subtle but undeniable challenge in their depths.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, as the realisation settled in. He’s User1102. He’s been watching you consistently all this time. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the soft groan that slipped from your lips.

Swallowing your nerves, you decided to play along, lifting your gaze back to the camera with a coy smile. “Seems like someone has a thing for professors,” you purred, your voice dripping with seduction. Your fingers trailed down your body, grazing over the delicate lace of your garment before slipping between your thighs.

Your touch met your slick folds through the sheer fabric, and you let out a soft gasp, your back arching slightly as you pressed against yourself. “Anything for my viewers,” you whispered, your tone teasing, though your eyes flicked to Alhaitham, whose stare had darkened considerably.

His jaw clenched, and the faint smirk on his lips widened just enough to reveal his amusement. His sharp eyes burned into you, following every movement of your hands with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

The next comment appeared, and you felt your heart race.

"Add another finger. [$100]"

You hesitated, your breath catching as your thighs instinctively clenched together. The sheer audacity of the request made you feel vulnerable, yet you couldn’t ignore the thrill coursing through you. Slowly, you glanced at Alhaitham again.

He didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. His composure was maddening, but the way his Adam's apple bobbed ever so slightly as he swallowed betrayed his growing tension. His knuckles were white as he gripped his phone, his slacks tight across his thighs, leaving little to the imagination.

A wicked idea formed in your mind. If he wanted to play this game, you were more than willing to raise the stakes. Sliding your hand beneath the fabric, your fingers dipped into your dripping core, and you let out a soft moan, the sound raw and unrestrained.

“Just for you… professor,” you murmured breathlessly, your voice laced with feigned innocence as your gaze locked with his. The word rolled off your tongue with deliberate seduction, and the effect was immediate.

Alhaitham’s gaze darkened further, his chest rising and falling as he fought to maintain control. The faint smirk was gone now, replaced by a hunger that made your stomach flip. He shifted slightly in his chair, his hand running over his thigh as if to steady himself, but you didn’t miss the way his pants strained against the evidence of his arousal.

The power shift was intoxicating, and as you moved your fingers within yourself, you felt an overwhelming desire to push him even further.

Your breath hitched as another comment from User1102 appeared on the screen, the message short but dripping with sensual command:

"Faster, bunny. Let me hear how much you want me."

The words sent a jolt straight to your core, your body shivering with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Alhaitham. His teal gaze pierced through you like a flame, sharp and consuming. His composure was cracking—his jaw tight, his hand gripping the edge of the chair as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Your fingers moved faster, the wet sounds filling the air as you threw your head back, unable to stop the stream of moans spilling from your lips. “P-Professor,” you whimpered, the word tumbling out as a sinful plea, each syllable heavy with desperation. You didn’t even care if it reached his ears; it was as if the need to push him further, to feel his eyes devour you, overrode everything else.

You blurted shameless phrases, the heat of the moment stripping you of all restraint. “So tight… so wet for you,” you babbled, voice breathless and trembling. “You feel so good… I—I need you...” Your voice hitched again, a crescendo of need, and you dared a glance at him.

Alhaitham’s face betrayed him now, the tension in his slacks impossible to miss. His chest rose and fell heavily, his usually stoic expression cracked open by the intensity of his gaze. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. The flicker of a vein on his temple spoke volumes about his struggle to remain in control.

The sight of him—so composed yet barely holding back—drove you over the edge. Your fingers moved with wild abandon, pressing deep, hitting the perfect spot as you gasped and cried out. Pleasure exploded within you, a wave so intense that it left you trembling, your juices spilling over your fingers and soaking the sheer fabric. Your hips bucked helplessly against your own touch, seeking more even as your body spasmed with the force of your orgasm.

“Ah… haith—” you moaned brokenly, his name almost slipping past your lips in a haze of pleasure. Your vision blurred, your breaths coming in short, frantic pants as you slumped forward, utterly spent.

Even as the aftershocks rippled through you, your eyes found him again. He hadn’t moved from his seat, but his grip on the armrest was iron-tight, his knuckles white. His teal eyes burned into yours, fierce and unyielding, the dim lighting casting sharp shadows over his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. His shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, stretched taut across the muscles you’d memorised in the heat of that unforgettable night.

You couldn’t breathe under the weight of his gaze, its intensity leaving you feeling both exposed and desired in equal measure. Your body still tingled, warmth pooling low in your belly as you realised the effect you’d had on him. Dizzy and dazed, your lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

Alhaitham’s jaw tightened, and he shifted in his seat, his gaze still locked on you like you were the only thing in the room. The air between you was thick, electric, and filled with an unspoken tension that neither of you could deny.

He had done this to you—undone you completely with just a few typed words and the sheer force of his presence. And as you sat there, still catching your breath, you realised you were utterly and irrevocably at his mercy.

Your eyes lingered on the camera for a moment, chest still heaving as you tried to collect yourself. The wetness on your fingers glistened in the dim light, and a bold idea formed in your hazy mind. Slowly, deliberately, your gaze shifted to Alhaitham, his teal eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race anew.

Without breaking eye contact, you brought your fingers to your lips, parting them slightly. Your tongue flicked out, delicate and teasing, before you slowly sucked your fingers clean. The action was languid, sensual, your lips curling slightly as you tasted yourself, never letting go of his piercing gaze.

Alhaitham’s reaction was visceral. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths, his usually steady composure visibly faltering. His eyes darkened, the teal deepening like a stormy sea, as his jaw tightened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a hard swallow. He gripped the armrests of the chair, his knuckles turning white, as though the simple action might tether him to the last shreds of his control.

Heat rolled off him in waves, and for the first time, you felt like you had the upper hand.

You pulled your fingers away with a soft pop, licking your lips before flashing a sweet, playful smile at the camera. "Well, that’s all for tonight, my lovelies,” you purred, your tone coy but tinged with lingering arousal. “I have so much work to finish, or my professor will have my ass—and not in the fun way.”

A soft giggle escaped you as you leaned forward, turning the camera off with a final wave. The screen went dark, and the room was silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing.

When you turned back, the weight of the moment hit you like a tidal wave. Alhaitham was still seated, his posture stiff, but his eyes… they burned. The lust in his gaze was undeniable, an unspoken fire that filled the room, making it hard to breathe.

You were still panting, your body warm and buzzing from the performance and his unrelenting attention. The charged silence between you stretched, the air thick with unspoken tension and undeniable want.

Alhaitham didn’t speak immediately, but his eyes roamed over you, drinking in every inch of your flushed skin, every rise and fall of your chest. His expression was unreadable, but the way his gaze lingered on your lips, your trembling thighs, and the evidence of your pleasure told you everything you needed to know.

Alhaitham rose from the chair, his every step deliberate and commanding, his piercing teal eyes never leaving yours. Your breath hitched as he made his way to the bed, his presence suffocating in the most intoxicating way. Sitting on your knees, you felt exposed, your sheer garment clinging to your body, your peaked nipples and damp thighs betraying the desire coursing through you.

He stopped at the edge of the bed, letting one knee sink into the mattress, the slight dip drawing him closer to you. His hand reached out, firm and purposeful, tangling in your hair and cradling the back of your head. His touch was steady, yet it made butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings frenzied and wild.

His face was so close, his warm breath brushing against your lips as he hovered, teasing, his intense gaze boring into yours. Every fibre of your being screamed for him to close the gap, to claim you. But still, he hesitated, his deep voice soft but commanding as he asked, “Are you sure?”

The care in his tone, the way he sought your consent even after all the lines you’d crossed together, made your heart swell and your throat tighten. You nodded, unable to find words, the lump of emotion and desire making it impossible.

That was all the confirmation he needed. His lips descended onto yours, warm and soft yet firm with purpose. They moved against yours with a deliberate slowness, coaxing you to match his rhythm. They felt like velvet, smooth and intoxicating, igniting sparks where they touched. He nipped lightly at your bottom lip, and the sharpness sent a shiver down your spine, your lips parting instinctively for him.

His tongue slid into your mouth, warm and wet, exploring with a slow dominance that made you whimper. The kiss deepened, your moans muffled against his lips as his other hand, large and steady, began to trail lightly down your stomach. The touch was featherlight but deliberate, leaving a path of tingling heat in its wake.

When his fingers pressed against your sensitive clit, your entire body jolted, a gasp slipping from your lips into his mouth. The pressure was just right, his movements slow and teasing, and you felt yourself melting under his touch, your body trembling as he controlled the pace. His lips never left yours, his kiss demanding and consuming, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Alhaitham’s kisses began to trail downward, leaving a scorching path along your neck, each press of his lips making you arch into him. His hands were firm as they guided you to the edge of the bed, your legs already trembling in anticipation. He pulled away briefly, his eyes dark with intent, before stepping off the bed and kneeling in front of you.

The sight of him there—on his knees, between your parted thighs, his powerful frame so reverent yet commanding—sent a surge of heat through your body. His hands slid up your thighs, steady and warm, and he pried them further apart with gentle determination. The cool air kissed your damp core through the sheer fabric of your underwear, heightening the sensitivity already coursing through you.

Alhaitham’s teal eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze stole the breath from your lungs. His hands squeezed the plush of your hips as he leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your wet, clothed centre. A broken moan slipped from your parted lips at the intimate contact, and your thighs trembled in his grasp.

He repeated the motion, the warmth of his lips against the soaked fabric sending jolts of pleasure through you. Then, with a deliberate slowness that was maddening, he pressed his tongue flat against your clothed slit, the pressure making your body jolt and a louder moan escape you.

His hands gripped your hips firmly as he tugged at the delicate strings of your underwear, letting them snap gently against your skin. The sharp sting mingled with your heightened sensitivity, and you cried out, the sound raw and needy. He did it again, smirking faintly at the way you gasped and squirmed beneath his touch, your body utterly at his mercy.

Finally, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid the garment down, his movements slow and deliberate as though savouring every moment. The cool air brushed against your bare skin, and the scent of your arousal hit him, making his cock throb painfully in his slacks.

He paused for a moment, staring at you as though mesmerized, his gaze heavy with lust and hunger. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, the words sending a shiver straight to your core.

Alhaitham’s fingers gripped tightly at the plush of your thighs, holding you steady as he leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from your glistening core. The heat of his breath ghosted over your slick folds, sending an involuntary shiver through your body. The anticipation alone had your chest rising and falling rapidly, your breaths shallow and uneven.

Then, his lips pressed gently against your slit, the softness of the touch contrasting with the desperate ache building inside you. A hitched moan spilled from your lips, your head tilting back as the sensation coursed through you. His tongue followed, parting your folds and sweeping a slow, deliberate path up your slit. The motion was unhurried yet thorough, his tongue mapping every inch of you as though savouring every taste.

When he reached your clit, he paused, his lips hovering over the sensitive nub. The first kiss he placed there was featherlight, a teasing brush of warmth that had your body arching towards him. Then, without warning, he sucked, the pressure sending a wave of electric pleasure crashing through you. A cry tore from your throat, raw and uncontrolled, as your toes curled and your thighs instinctively clamped around his head.

Alhaitham didn’t falter. His large hands slid to your thighs, prying them apart effortlessly, his strength leaving you utterly at his mercy. His tongue traced a path back down your slit, the wet muscle flicking and teasing before it dipped lower to circle your puckering entrance. He hesitated just long enough to have your body trembling in anticipation, and then he pressed his tongue against you, teasingly shallow at first before thrusting it deeper.

The sensation was maddening, his tongue delving into you with an intensity that had your thighs shaking around his head. Your hands, braced against the bed, gave out under the onslaught of pleasure, and you collapsed back against the mattress. Alhaitham followed the shift in your position, one hand firm against your thigh to keep your legs open as his other hand steadied your hips.

Your foot scraped against his back as your body writhed beneath him, your senses overwhelmed by the relentless rhythm of his tongue. The wet sounds of his mouth, the faint scrape of his stubble against your sensitive skin, and the way he held you firmly in place made it impossible to think of anything but him.

He groaned low in his throat, the vibrations resonating through your core as he thrust his tongue deeper, as if determined to consume every bit of you. Your vision blurred as your pleasure climbed higher, white-hot heat building low in your abdomen and spreading like fire through your veins.

Your world narrowed to the sensation of him—his mouth, his hands, his sheer presence consuming you entirely. You were weightless, lost, your body trembling as he pushed you closer to the edge with every stroke of his tongue.

Alhaitham’s eyes met yours, piercing and unwavering, a molten shade of teal that seemed to burn with both intensity and control. His gaze locked onto you as if he was reading every shudder, every tremor of your body. It was impossible to look away, even as you felt the warmth of his tongue tracing along your folds, his lips parting just enough to press firmly against your dripping entrance.

Your breath hitched as his tongue pressed into you, a deep, deliberate stroke that made your thighs tremble against his strong grip. The world seemed to narrow, every sensation amplifying as his tongue worked with precision and purpose. Then, without warning, he thrust his tongue deeper, and your body jolted as a powerful surge of pleasure overcame you.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body betrayed you, the overwhelming pleasure forcing you to release. Warm liquid gushed from you in uncontrollable pulses, your body trembling violently as the wave of ecstasy crashed over you. The sound of it—wet and primal—filled the room, mingling with your laboured moans and the soft groans Alhaitham made as he held you steady.

Mortification crept in as the haze of pleasure started to lift, your cheeks flushing as you realised what had happened. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to push away, but Alhaitham’s grip only tightened. His firm hands kept your hips pinned against the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Don’t,” he murmured against your skin, his deep voice vibrating through you. His lips were still pressed to you, his tongue sliding out to lap at the evidence of your release with slow, deliberate strokes. The way his mouth moved against you sent another ripple of pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp and shudder.

Alhaitham didn’t falter, his tongue continuing its ministrations as if he was savouring every drop. His eyes, now dark and hooded, bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. You couldn’t look away, mesmerised by the sight of him—so composed, yet so utterly consumed by you.

Your body writhed beneath his touch; every nerve alight as he guided you through the aftershocks of your high. His hands caressed your trembling thighs, grounding you even as his mouth refused to let you go. There was no judgement in his gaze, no hesitation—only raw desire and a determination to coax every ounce of pleasure from you.

When the tremors finally subsided, and your breathing slowed, Alhaitham pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his lips curved in a faint smirk. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine.

Alhaitham leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he moved to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His lips pressed firmly there, the warmth of his mouth followed by a teasing flick of his tongue that made your body tense with anticipation. When his teeth grazed your skin, your breath hitched, and then he bit down softly, sucking deeply to leave a mark. The sensation was a delicious mix of sharp and soothing as he licked over the spot, his tongue easing the sting while his lips claimed the area.

"Couldn’t resist," he murmured, his voice a low growl. His teal eyes lifted to meet yours, dark with desire and satisfaction as he admired the mark he’d left behind. "You look even more tempting with my marks on you."

Before you could respond, he began trailing kisses up your body, his lips brushing softly over your stomach, each press of his mouth sending sparks along your skin. His hands slid beneath you, lifting you slightly as he pushed you higher onto the bed, his strength making you feel light in his hold.

Alhaitham's hands slid up your sides, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of your bra. His teal eyes, darkened with hunger, met yours as he hooked a finger under the strap and tugged it down your shoulder with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent as his other hand reached behind you to unhook the clasp. The tension snapped with a soft click, and the fabric fell loose, barely clinging to your chest.

With a practiced ease, he slipped the bra off and tossed it aside, his gaze immediately dropping to your bare skin. A soft groan escaped him as he took in the sight.

His warm hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, the gentle touch drawing a sharp gasp from you. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above your skin. “Been wanting to see you like this, beneath me.” he whispered before he dipped his head and captured your nipple in his mouth, his tongue teasing the sensitive peak as his hands squeezed you firmly.

As he moved, he let his lips linger beneath the swell of your breast, the tender skin there making you shiver under his touch. He kissed deeply, the heat of his mouth igniting a new wave of desire, before he sucked hard, pulling another moan from your lips as he left another hickey, darker and more prominent than the last.

"Couldn’t stop thinking about this," Alhaitham confessed against your skin, his voice gravelly and filled with hunger. "How soft you’d feel, how perfect you’d taste."

His mouth moved higher, capturing your nipple in a heated kiss. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud before his lips closed over it, sucking gently at first, then harder, drawing gasps and whimpers from you. His other hand moved to your other breast, his fingers rolling and tugging at your nipple, mirroring the attention his mouth gave.

Your back arched, pressing more of yourself into him, and your fingers tangled in his silver hair, tugging softly. The small pull made his eyes flutter shut, and a soft groan rumbled from his chest. "You’re perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled but dripping with reverence. "Been wanting to feel you like this, to hear those sounds you make... in person, more real."

His thigh pressed between your legs, the firm, clothed muscle grinding against your slick folds. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp as your hips bucked against him instinctively. "That’s it," he groaned, his voice rough and low. "Let me feel how much you want me. Don’t hold back."

Your hands tightened in his hair as he alternated between teasing flicks of his tongue and firm sucks to your nipple, the combination making your head spin. The weight of his body above you, the heat of his thigh pressing against your sensitive clit, and the way his cock throbbed against your thigh through his slacks—it was overwhelming in the best way.

"Been wondering," he continued, his voice dark and filled with desire, "how you’d taste, how these perfect tits would feel in my hands, in my mouth. Better than I could’ve imagined."

Every word sent shivers through you, heightening your arousal as his thigh moved in slow, deliberate circles against you. The pressure built steadily, and you couldn’t stop the soft, desperate moans escaping you as his lips continued their assault on your breast.

Alhaitham’s lips trailed from your breast to your neck, his movements slow and deliberate as he pressed soft kisses into your skin. Occasionally, he let his teeth graze your flesh, leaving faint marks that bloomed into a symphony of pretty hues upon your neck. His warm breath fanned over the sensitive area, making your pulse quicken.

Your fingers, trembling with both impatience and desire, fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. Between soft whimpers and gasps, you pouted, “Why haven’t you taken this off yet?”

A low chuckle escaped him, deep and resonant, as he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your cheek. “Impatient, are we?” he teased, his tone laced with amusement. Without breaking his smouldering eye contact, he reached up and shrugged off his shirt, tossing it aside carelessly.

The sight before you made your breath hitch. His body was a masterpiece—broad shoulders, a sculpted chest with a light dusting of hair, and defined muscles that rippled with every subtle movement. His abs were carved and precise, his V-line disappearing tantalisingly into the waistband of his slacks. Your thighs clenched instinctively, a rush of heat pooling between them as your core fluttered, slick with arousal.

He moved to unbuckle his slacks, the anticipation crackling in the air. He let the fabric fall to the floor, revealing a pair of fitted black boxer briefs that hugged him perfectly, emphasising every detail of his powerful thighs and the prominent bulge straining against the fabric.

When he finally slid the briefs down, your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes trailed over his defined torso, following the tantalising path of his V-line until they reached his cock. Even though you had seen him earlier, the sight still made your heart race and your body ache with need. The thick, veiny length stood proud, the bulbous tip red and glistening with precum, making it look both imposing and utterly irresistible, you could still feel the shape of it down your throat.

Alhaitham smirked at your reaction, his confidence unshaken as he leaned forward, caging your trembling body beneath his. “You’re staring,” he teased softly before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his firm body pressing against yours, igniting a fire that burned through every nerve in your body.

Your moans spilled into his mouth as Alhaitham deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a passionate, intimate dance. His large hand cupped your breast, kneading it gently but firmly, his thumb brushing teasing circles over your hardened nipple. The kiss broke with a soft gasp, a delicate string of saliva connecting your swollen lips.

Your eyes, wide and dazed, gazed up at him with such tenderness and desire that it made his chest tighten. You leaned forward, trailing featherlight kisses along the strong column of his neck, your lips brushing against his pulse point before moving to the space between his shoulder and neck. Each touch sent tremors through his body, and a low groan escaped his throat, rumbling deep and primal.

Your hands wandered down his torso, fingers ghosting over his broad chest and rippling abs, your touch leaving a blazing trail of heat in its wake. His muscles tensed and flexed beneath your palms, responding to your exploration. When your fingers brushed over his nipples, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, a low hum of pleasure vibrating in his chest.

Your hands slid further down, encircling his back as you pulled him closer, your bare bodies pressing together with electrifying intimacy. The motion caused the tip of his cock to brush against your slick folds, the velvety warmth of your wetness immediately wrapping around him. His thick length nestled perfectly against your clit, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you.

Alhaitham released a choked moan, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as the sensation of your heat overwhelmed him. His hips instinctively shifted, grinding ever so slightly against you, the pressure intensifying the ache between your thighs. “You’re… dangerous,” he murmured, his voice husky and strained, his self-control hanging by a thread.

You trembled beneath him, the intimate contact sending waves of heat cascading through your body. Your lips parted to speak, but all that came out was a soft, needy whimper as your bodies continued to tease and tempt one another in this excruciatingly sweet agony.

His cock slid against you, thick and hot, slipping through the wet mess between your thighs. Every movement sent sparks up your spine, but he was holding back—trembling with restraint, breath unsteady, eyes locked on where your bodies met.

“Wait,” he muttered, voice breaking like a man on the edge. “I don’t have anything—no condom—” You reached for him, cupping his jaw, your thumb brushing the edge of his lower lip. “It’s okay,” you breathed. “I’m on the pill.”

His gaze snapped to yours, like your words had cracked something wide open in him. You felt him shudder, a sound dragging out of his chest that was half-relief, half hunger. The thought of spilling his warm cum inside you, marking you made his body shudder and his gaze intense on you.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispered—like it hurt to admit. “I need to feel you. Just you.”

His larg hands squeezed your hips in reassurance, his one hand holding your hip in place while his other guided his leaking, throbbing cock to align with your fluttering hole, the head of his cock nudged into your warm, hole, tempting him to shove his entire cock into your warm, sticky cunt- he restrained himself, opting to enter you gently, so that he could memerize the feeling of entering your pussy for the first time. He was splitting you open with reverence and desperation in equal measure, your breath hitched as he filled you, inch by aching inch, the stretch stealing every thought from your mind. Your cunt squeezing him tightly, you could feel his precum leaking into you as your arms cling onto him tightly and he finally bottomed into you, he was in you till the hilt as you moaned from the feeling of thick cock.

Your bodies are fully joined, you felt completely full- you could feel every twitch and throb of his cock, your cunt fluttering around him.

“God—” he choked. “You feel like you were made for me.” You clung to him, legs wrapping around his hips, arms around his shoulders, anchoring him. Anchoring you.

He started to move. Not gentle, not measured—but with purpose. With need. His hips met yours in steady, grounding thrusts, every motion thick with tension, each one deeper than the last. His cock coming till the tip just for him to slam into you, hard. Your bodies moved in tandem, like waves finding the shore after a long storm.

His lips brushed your temple, your cheek, your mouth—fevered kisses, half-formed words lost in the spaces between. Your moans melted into his sighs; gasps tangled in the hush of skin meeting skin.

And then, his voice—low, hoarse, barely human.

 “I keep thinking about it. How I’m inside you. Raw. How I can come in you, and there’s nothing stopping it. Just you—taking it. Letting me give you everything.”

You whimpered, your body clenching around him, answering a call neither of you could speak aloud. You drag your nails along his back, his rhythm faltered, his control slipping. As he holds your hips tightly, the sound of your juices mixing together and skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room tangling with his groans and your moans.

“I want to fill you,” he groaned, his turquoise eyes staring deeply into yours, his forehead pressed against yours as his breath brushed against your swollen lips. “Want to stay buried in you and never leave. Want to see my cum leaking out when I’m done.” He says, this making your toes curl as he hits a certain spot in you causing a loud moan to leave from your parted lips, your back arching off the bed, your pert nipples pressing into his chest. He noticed this and started thrusting harder in that spot watching as you become a babbling mess, drool slipping out from your mouth, your face flashed red.

“professor, professor-” you moaned out in eustacy, Alhaitham groaned when you had said that his mouth trailing kisses from cheek to your neck as he licks a spot before biting down hard on your neck and slamming hard into your g-spot.

The tension in your tummy snapped, your eyes widening as they roll back, the word’ professor’ tumbling out of your mouth numerous times as your orgasm stole your breath, took your voice, dragged you into light. You shattered, clutching him tight, your body gripping him like you never wanted to let go. Alhaitham groaned as your warm wetness that made your hole sticky, your cum messing his pelvis as he thrusted faster into you as you laid beneath him in a dazed state still murmuring professor – fucked out.

“I’m going to give you every single drop of my cum, mark your insides white with my cum” he grabs a fist full of your, his eyes staring into yours flickering from your eyes to your lips and to the mess between the two of you as he moans, his teeth now nipping at your ear as you squeezed around him and moaned. “ be a good girl and let your professor cum in you ? yeah?” you cried out a yes as he started to thrust into you extremely fast, with a ragged gasp, burying himself deep, hips pressed flush as he comes to a still -  he spilled inside you. Hot, pulsing, endlessly into your womb.

His skin damp with sweat as your mouth hung open wide, thick tears rolling down your cheeks as you squeezed him tightly, the warm feeling of his cum entering you made your toes curl as another orgasm ripped through your spent pussy, your cries echoing throughout the room as you clung to him.

His breath was still ragged as he came down from his high, body trembling above yours. But even with his release still warm inside you, even with your walls fluttering in the aftermath, he couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not when your body clung to him so sweetly, when your warmth still pulsed around his softening cock like it didn’t want to let him go.

He needed you to cum again on his cock.

He kissed you—slow, tender kisses dragged across your lips, your jaw, your temple—as if to soothe the overstimulation, to ground you again. But you whimpered softly against his mouth, hips twitching as he began to roll them forward again, lazily at first, letting himself harden once more inside you.

“Alhaitham,” you breathed, voice trembling. “I’m… I’m sensitive.”

“I know,” he whispered, brushing your hair back as he peppered kisses along your cheek. “I know, sweet girl. Just one more time. Let me.” His hands slid down to your hips, strong and sure as he held you in place. He moved with more control now, patient and hungry all at once, grinding slowly into your oversensitive core until you whimpered beneath him, thighs quivering from the overstimulation.

Then, without a word, he withdrew—only to flip you gently onto your stomach.

The shift made your breath hitch, your cheek pressing into the soft sheets as he guided you up on all fours with a steady hand on your lower back. He knelt behind you, eyes devouring the slick trail out of your puffy cunt, his own release trickling from between your thighs. Your ass perfectly perched in front of him, your cunt twitching as he groaned at the sight.

“Look at this mess,” he murmured, thumbing at your cunt, watching it flutter around nothing. “And you’re still so wet.”

You whimpered, your hips jerking as he lined himself up again, and this time, he pushed in slowly from behind, dragging every thick inch along your stretched walls. The new angle made your arms tremble—so deep it stole the air from your lungs.

Your fingers clenched the sheets. He was already buried to the hilt, already overwhelming. But then his grip on your hips tightened—and he began to move.

Harder this time.

His thighs smacked against yours, his rhythm relentless, fucking into you with deep, purposeful thrusts that had you gasping with every stroke. You collapsed forward onto your elbows, unable to hold yourself up as your body gave out from the intensity. But he followed—his chest pressed along your back, his arms sliding around you to cage you in, to keep you still as he pounded into you from behind.

Your face was turned into the mattress, mouth open in a silent moan as his cock slid in and out of your soaked cunt with a filthy, wet sound. You were overstimulated, trembling, but you couldn’t stop—couldn’t stop the way your hips arched back into his, the way you sobbed his name between incoherent blabbering gasps.

“Please—Alhaitham, it’s—too much—ah—” your voice broke into a cry, tears prickling in your eyes from the sheer intensity of it.

But he kissed your shoulder, groaning as your walls clenched tight around him again.

“I know, baby. I know. Just a little more, be a good girl for your professor” he rasped into your skin, voice almost reverent. “You’re taking me so well. So, fucking good for me.”

You were losing yourself. His cock rubbed against every sweet spot inside you, over and over, making your vision blur, your thoughts dissolve. All you could do was cry out his name, your hands fisting the sheets as he fucked you through the overwhelming pleasure, chasing another release you hadn’t even realized you were building toward.

And through it all, he held you tight—pressed flush to your back, fucking you deep and hard like he wanted to leave a part of himself inside you forever.

Your body trembled beneath him, muscles taut and overstimulated, but Alhaitham wasn’t slowing down. His thrusts had grown rougher, deeper guided by instinct, by the primal need to leave every inch of himself inside you. You were utterly at his mercy, your moans broken and high-pitched, caught somewhere between pleasure and desperation.

Your walls clenched wildly around him, fluttering with every thick drag of his cock, and he could feel it—how close you were, how your body was winding tighter and tighter, teetering on the edge of something overwhelming.

He leaned forward, breath hot against your neck as he groaned, “You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” You could only whimper in response, voice caught in your throat, your mind hazy from the sheer stimulation.

“Fuck—this pussy was made for me,” he growled low in your ear. “So tight, so warm.  Gonna milk every drop out of me, aren’t you?” His hand slipped down your stomach, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight, perfect circles in rhythm with his thrusts. The touch sent you over—your body locked up, back arching, and a broken, desperate cry tore from your throat as your orgasm hit you like a crashing wave. You spasmed around him, pulsing so hard that it nearly forced him out of you, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“Ah—fuck,” he gasped, gritting his teeth as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Just like that, miss bunny… just like that.” With one last, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came—hot and thick and endless. His cock throbbed as he spilled into you, every drop of his cum pouring into your twitching, fluttering cunt. He groaned low in his throat, hips grinding against your ass, as if he could push it deeper, keep it there inside you forever.

He stayed there for a moment, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling against your back. Then, slowly, he pulled out—and watched. His cum spilled from your swollen pussy in slow, glistening rivulets, and the sight nearly made him hard again. He watched the way you clenched and shuddered, as if trying to hold it in, and a deep, primal satisfaction flared in his chest.

“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbing at your folds, watching his seed drip from you. “You look so good like this. Stuffed full of me.”  A darker thought crossed his mind—how beautiful you’d look covered in his cum, painted in thick streaks across your back, your thighs, your pretty lips. But that was for another time. Another night.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed you—slow, deep, reverent. His tongue brushed against yours, warm and gentle now, the urgency faded into something deeper. Something tender. His fingers stroked your sides, tracing every inch of you like he never wanted to forget the feel.

When he pulled back, your lips were red, kissed raw, your eyes still hazy.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, brushing your hair back, lips brushing your temple. “Every last inch of you.” And in that moment, with his warmth still inside you and his mouth still lingering against your skin, it felt like the truth.

The room still pulsed with the aftermath of what you’d shared, but Alhaitham was already moving, already thinking of you. He rose without a word, padded across the room, and returned with a warm cloth again. You barely flinched when it touched between your thighs—his hands were slow, mindful, reverent, and his eyes never left your face.

He kissed the inside of your knee once he was done, and then whispered, “Come on. Let me take care of you.” The bathroom light was dim, the tub already filling when you followed him in. He tested the temperature with his hand, then helped you in first, easing you down into the steaming water with that same quiet patience. The warmth cradled your sore muscles, the scent of soap and something faintly floral curling in the air.

Then he joined you—settling in behind, arms encircling your waist, his chest firm and warm against your back. Your head found his shoulder without thought. His cheek rested against your temple.

For a long while, you didn’t speak. The only sounds were the gentle ripple of water and the echo of your slowed breathing. Eventually, his fingers found yours beneath the surface, weaving them together.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he murmured into your hair.

You smiled, lips curving against his skin. “And yet… I don’t regret a single part of it.”

He was quiet again, but his arms tightened around you just a little, like he’d needed to hear that more than he realized.

“You feel… real,” he finally said. “Not just a face on a screen. Not just my student. You’re… more.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him. His eyes were soft now, stripped of all his usual restraint. You reached up to brush your fingers along his jaw.

“And you’re not just my favourite viewer anymore.”

That earned a rare smile, and he leaned down to kiss you—slow and unhurried, like there was no longer any need to rush.

When he pulled back, your head found his chest again, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. The water sloshed gently around you, and the world felt far away.

For tonight, there was nothing else. Just the warmth of his arms, the weight of something unspoken settling between you both, and the comfort of finally being seen—not through a screen, but through the eyes of someone who wanted to know you, every part of you.

And maybe that was enough. Or maybe it was just the beginning.

-Usagii’s Note

OH. MY. GOD. It’s DONE. This fic has been sitting on my chest like a whole demon for months, and now I can finally breathe. Writing this was a journey—messy, chaotic, a little unhinged—but I’m so proud of how it turned out in the end.

Huge love to everyone who read, liked, commented, screamed, or just quietly supported me through this fic. You’re the real MVPs.

This is the final chapter of Blurred lines - Professor Alhaitham x Cam Girl Reader. We’re closing the door, turning off the camera, and moving on. I’m not coming back to this one, so if you’ve been along for the ride, THANK YOU. Truly.

But don’t worry—I’m not disappearing. My next work? Let’s just say it’s Alhaitham x bunny girl reader, enemies-to- friends- lovers with reader getting her heat and she has to share a room with haitham (one bed trope, my favv. Does anyone else like it ? hehehehe).

Anyways, I write smut, fluff, and the occasional brainrot, so check out my other works if you’re in the mood for more chaos.

Byeeee~