#He didn’t give a shit and now I’m going to have to balance both of them while also not just boiling over

[unhingedandunwell]

.

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

[call-memissbrightside]

Continuation of this

Katsuki and your son didn’t return from their camping trip until late Sunday night, but you were waiting.

Thankfully Katsuma fell asleep on the road back, and he made no fuss tucking him away in his bed. Katsuki waited to jump on you when the door to Katsuma’s room clicked shut, then did he take care of you.

It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, and it’s been even longer since you’ve slept with Katsuki. Yet, there was no hesitation or embarrassment when you willinging took off your garments of clothing as you blindly led your ex to your bedroom. Katuski wanted to take in the little details of you, things that he might’ve missed or things that changed since the last time he’s been with you… but laying you out in the bed without any barriers of clothing to hide behind, with the moonlight spilling in just perfectly to cascade every dip and curve of your body, the young man decide to indulge just for once. If I’m lucky, this will happen again, he thought.

As highschool lovers that you once were meant you’d make love, you both were virgins when you got together but now you were older, wiser, and less awkward when touching one another. There was no hesitation, no verbal checks and balances like you’d give when you were sixteen. Now, his eyes asked the questions and your little smile answered each and every one of them. That night, five years after leaving Katsuki to raise your son without him, Katsuki and you fucked like you needed to make up for lost time.

—

You gained a sixth sense through motherhood, and you were startled awake. Blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you take in the sight of Katsuma, with rumpled blonde hair standing by the foot of your bed. Thankfully, you were covered with your blanket, and he didn’t seem to notice nor care that you were in bed with Katsuki..

“Mommy, I’s sick,” Katsuma whispered, a little hand rubbing at his eye.

You felt Katsuki laying behind you, with an arm secured tightly around your hips as his steady breathing tickled the nape of your neck.

“What’s wrong baby?” You’re mindful of keeping your naked body covered with the blanket as you sit up, trying to not startle Katsuki but he instantly wakes up from your movement.

“What’s wrong buddy?” Katsuki’s voice is heavily laced with sleep, but he takes a deep breath, peeking over your shoulder to look at his son.

“I’m hot.” Katsuma was sweating, perspiration wetting the crown of his head and the hair that grew there. His cheeks were red like apples, and his little eyes held feelings of pain.

The back of your hand automatically touches his forehead, eyebrows furrowed at the intense heat you feel.

“I think you have a fever baby,” You comment, worryness replacing whatever satifaction you felt just moments before. “Go lay back down and I’ll get the thermometer.”

Katsuma wordlessly obeys your command, and you don’t hesitate to spring up and get dressed. Katsuki watches you, you feel his eyes on your back as you slip on some clothes.

“What should I do?” Katsuki catched his shirt you threw at him with ease, putting it on and beginning to dress too. You don’t know how to answer, mind going on overdrive on how to proceed with having a sick child. Katsuma was usually a healthy kid with a minor cold every two years, but to wake up with an intense fever? What could it be? How serious was this? –

“Y/N?” Katsuki felt useless in this situation, he’s never dealt with a sick kid nor did he know what to do for Katsuma in that moment. He needed you to guide him, lead him, shit, tell him what to do because he was clueless. The young man could tell you were worried, it’s the way your face had a stony expression on it that painted a clear picture: something wasn’t right.

“There’s some medicine in the cabinet above the microwave, could you get it?” You asked him, looking through your drawers for the thermometer. Katsuki, thankful for some direction, swiftly went to retrieve the medicine. In the silence of the kitchen, did the seriousness of his actions catched up with Katsuki.

We had sex, Katsuki recounted, we had sex so now what? Are we together? No – he shook his head, finding a child’s ibuprofen – Would she even want to get back together? What about Katsuma?

Heading to the five-year-olds room, Katsuki put aside any lingering questions in his mind. Just like you decided, all those questions and decisions would have to wait – Katsuma needed him.

[act-nat-ural]

Something’s Different

When Shoyo had gotten back from his time in Brazil, he was… different. Yes, he had improved in his volleyball skills and had somehow gotten even more outgoing, but it wasn’t just that. He had changed… physically. He was significantly tanner than before, and if he lifted his arms the right way you could see his tan line peek out and tease you. He had also gotten a bit of a growth spurt, growing into himself. But what stood out to you the most? His muscles.

Currently, you two are supposed to be catching up after years apart, but you can't bring yourself to listen to a word he says. You watch entranced as his thighs flex as he bounces his leg, or his throat moves when he gulps down his drink, or when he moves his arms enthusiastically when he talks-

“Are you still listening?” He teases with a smile. Shit.

“Of course I am.” You chuckle and try to collect yourself. His eyes crinkle as he grins even wider and he rests his arms behind his head. Oh lord.

“Suuure. What's got you so distracted?” He asks curiously. You blink and try to come up with an excuse, face burning slightly, but he suddenly leans forward. You make a less-than-flattering sound and jump backwards.

“What the heck, Shoyo?!”

“You have something on your face. There!” He gives a cheeky grin and wipes a nonexistent crumb off your face. You blink, still flustered from his sudden movement. He’s laughing now, that carefree sound you remember so well, but there's something different in the way his eyes sparkle—more confident, teasing. You try to steady your breath, but it’s hard when your heart won’t stop racing.

“Y-You didn’t have to—”

“Just making sure you’re not too distracted, y'know?” he says, voice playful, but there's something else in his expression—something you can't quite place. "What’s going on with you? You’re acting a little… off."

"I’m fine," you mutter quickly, still trying to play it cool. But inside, you're completely off balance. You can't stop staring at his arms as he leans back again, the muscles there moving so effortlessly, his shirt stretching slightly. It’s a casual, carefree motion, but it makes your breath catch in your throat.

He raises an eyebrow, looking at you like he knows something you don’t want him to know. "Uh-huh. Sure you are." His tone is light, but there’s that little bit of mischief in his eyes—like he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit something that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

You wish you could focus. You wish you could just relax and catch up with him, like you’d imagined for years. But instead, you're stuck in this loop where all your thoughts seem to orbit around him, around the way he’s changed. The way he moves, the way he talks, the way he looks at you now.

"Come on," he says, breaking through your spiraling thoughts. He leans forward again, his eyes fixed on you with such intensity it’s almost like he's daring you to say what’s really on your mind. "Something's definitely up."

You swallow hard, nerves bubbling up. Your heart is pounding, and suddenly the room feels too small. It's just the two of you, but it feels like there’s a distance between you that wasn’t there before. The time apart, the changes, all of it feels too much to process in one sitting.

Without thinking, you blurt, “You look different.”

He blinks, a flash of surprise in his eyes, and then he chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Is that so? I mean, I guess I did get a little taller and, uh, bulkier…” His grin widens, clearly proud of the changes, and you can’t help but notice the way his chest expands as he laughs.

But you’re not just talking about that. You’re talking about the way he carries himself, the confidence that’s oozing from him now, in a way that’s both familiar and new. He used to be all energy and charm, bouncing around and smiling like nothing could keep him down. Now, he’s grounded, somehow, with a quiet intensity that pulls you in even more.

"That's not what I mean," you say, your voice quieter this time, softer. You’re not sure if you want to say the words out loud, but they slip out anyway. "I mean… you’ve changed. In a way that’s more than just, well, physical.”

His eyes flicker with understanding, and for the first time since you’ve been sitting here, his playful grin falters just a little. He leans back again, but this time there’s a more thoughtful look on his face.

“I get it,” he says softly, nodding once. “I guess a lot has changed, huh?”

You nod in return, relieved that he seems to understand. But at the same time, you feel that knot in your stomach tightens. There’s something unspoken between you two now—something that neither of you has addressed, but you can both feel it hanging there, suspended in the air.

The conversation drifts, and for a moment, you both sit in silence. It’s a comfortable silence, though, one where the tension between you slowly starts to ease. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but eventually, you find yourself laughing at something he said, and his infectious grin returns.

But this time, when his eyes meet yours, there’s a new layer of warmth in them, something that wasn’t there before. And just like that, the world seems to fall into place again. You’re still nervous, still unsure of where this new version of him—of you—fits into everything. But for the first time since he came back, it feels like maybe things could work out after all. Shoyo shifts closer from across the table, resting his fingers against yours in a way that doesn’t feel like an accident. He’s still the same Shoyo you remember, but somehow, you feel like you're seeing him in a new light.

“You know,” he says, voice dropping a little lower, “I’m really glad we’re hanging out again. I missed you.”

Your breath hitches, but you turn to look at him, offering a small, shy smile. "I missed you too, Shoyo."

He grins back, his eyes softening. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe this isn’t just about catching up anymore. Maybe it’s about something more. He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he gives you a playful wink and leans in, just enough to make your heart skip. It’s a little daring, but you don’t pull away.

You have no idea where this is headed, but for once, you don’t really mind.

[igotanidea]

Shower: J.T x fem!reader

Request: from the prompt list: "for sparring to turn into sex "+ "I told you to be quiet" + "they're gonna catch us" with Jason.

@parkjammys I'm sorry in advance, I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but I just couldn;t fight the urge to play and twist those prompts a bit.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

A/N: It's written in the Ego!verse and can be read as a next part to Growing up

***

„You got rusty” Jason smirked, while looking at Y/N’s workout simulation 

„Well, I’ve been in a cast for almost two months thanks to your older brother.” She scoffed brushing hair off her forehead. As if she didn’t know it took a heavy toll on her physique. She was panting after a beginner level program and absolutely hated it. It was like a cheek.

“It was NOT my fault!” Dick objected overhearing the conversation

“That’s just some poor explanation, Y/N” Todd mocked, making her clench her fists. “And you are not going to get back to shape and get cleared for the field if you keep it so easy.”

“Why don’t you cut your girl some slack, Todd? Even if she’s not capable of kicking your ass she can always go full meta on you.“ Tim muttered from the corner, too busy to look their direction while punching a dummy, but still not dropping the opportunity to torment his older brother.

“Oh, I am fully capable of kicking his ass.” Y/N panted “Right here, right now.”

“Is that a dare?” Jason lifted the corner of his mouth, his eyes glistening predator-like, eyeing her like a prey.

“Are you chickening out?” she pouted and tilted her head “scared of a girl, Red Hood?”

“Aren’t you scared of getting humiliated in front of the whole family?” he retorted taking a step forward her

“Do you want me to go full Ego on you?” he mimicked his movement and at the moment they were just standing in front of each other, inches away, their bodies almost touching while the other members of the family stopped their own workouts and focused on watching.

“Wouldn’t you like that, princess.” He whispered leaning over her, his hot breath on her face “I got some many thoughts in my head….”

“Do you two need a room?” Dick’s voice chimed in and brought them both back to reality. It’s been a moment since they were intimate (once again, the stupid cast!) and all they needed was a spark to forget all the surroundings and get lost in each other. But the audience was definitely not needed and upon Grayson’s words they practically recoiled from each other.

“Yeah.” Jason scratched his neck awkwardly “give me a room to pin her down.”

“Wouldn’t you like that” she laughed and it made him blush a bit. Shit. He would like that, but not with his sibling around.

“If you’re so smart and bold why don’t you go at me without using your little mind games?” he hissed clenching his fist. Fuck, he wanted her and if he didn’t start blowing the steam off that very second it would start to show.

“Promise not to go easy on me, Todd?” she spun around taking a stance on the fighting mat, facing him with that arcane look. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Then it’s a deal.”

“Wait!” Stephanie yelled “I’m opening the bets! 10 bucks on Y/N!”

“10 bucks?!” Y/N scoffed “so little faith in me, Steph! That’s pretty offending!”

“That’s all I have, y/n/n/, don’t let me down.” The blonde blew a kiss her friends direction and grinned.

“Ready you two?” Grayson rubbed his hand acting like a judge on the ring “set. Go!”

Neither Jason nor Y/N moved in the slightest. They knew each other too well to take  any sudden action, instead focusing on eyeing each other, calculating every gesture. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she took tiniest step forward and the real fight burst out.  

Y/N took a slide and before Jason with his tank build realized what was happening she was behind him, punching his shoulder blades and making him fall forward a bit, but still not enough to cause him to fully loose the balance.

“Backstabbing, princess?” he smirked turning to face her and throwing a punch which she blocked easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it, causing him to groan.

“Go Y/N!” Steph yelled happily and that sudden exclaim distracted her giving Jason opportunity to put his other arm around her waist and lift her in the air.

“Let go off me!” she yelled, kicking her feet desperately, hoping to reach his knee or calf, which she knew were more sensitive and prone to injury than any other part of his body, but failed at that, instead ending up being held like a unruly kid, arms pinned to her sides. “Damn it!”

“Giving up already?”

“You wish!” Y/N was quick to come up with contingencies and not only because Steph was now literally biting her nails watching the scene unravelling in front of her eyes. Since it was impossible to use her hands, Y/N swung her legs in the way Dick taught her and not without effort wrapped them around Jason’s neck ending up on his shoulders, strangling him, cutting the air supply, waiting for the familiar patting on her thigh – sign of surrender. 

“Aren’t you a bit too cocky, Ego?” he hissed, trying to throw her from his back, squeezing the ankle of her freshly healed leg making her yelp in pain and loosen the grip.

A mistake which made her end up on the floor, almost losing the battle.

“That hurt you bastard!” she cried out, real tears showing in her eyes.

“I’m not falling for that love” he went forth and in a blink of an eye pressed her to the wall. Their chest touching, moving up and down frantically due to the heavy breath. Was it just because of the fighting?”

“Jason….” she whined, trying to push him away.

“Don’t play dirty.” He whispered into her ear

“ME?” she faked innocence “you are clearly the one happy to have me so close, don’t you, baby?” AUCH!” the girl screamed when he pushed her even more into the wall, his eyes absolutely dark “your family is watching….”

Fuck.

He let go for just a second and it was enough for her to use that against him. In the end he was the one who ended up on the mattress, on his back with Y/N straddling his hips and hands on his chest pinning him down and …. Well…. Feeling something there.

“You think you won?”

“I…” she didn’t get to finish the sentence when he flipped her over, hovering over, his  bodyweight not letting her to get up. “Fuck….” She muttered

“You?” Jason muttered, pressing his body closer to her, whispering in her ear, making her hot and needy and all red. “I can do that….”

“Could you please stop?” Damian muttered, rolling his eyes “why is it so hard to stay professional? It’s just freaking disgusting.”

“So, seems like I won.” Todd grinned, getting up, too proud of himself about making Y/N a flustered mess on the floor.

“I hate you, Todd.” She brushed off his hand which he offered to help her up. “You almost broke my leg again!”

“You know I would never do that. Not to you, Y/N. But Riddler’s goons wouldn’t have any seconds thoughts. You need to be ready for that. “ she turned away from him, angry “Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around “don’t be mad at me, baby….. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Y/N!” Cass called from behind. She was the one who was watching the scene most carefully from all the siblings. Therefore she noticed the slight limp and bruising on Y/N’s ankle and had to make sure her friend was good to go “Leg?”

“I’m fine, Cass.” She sighed deeply “Sorry for making you lose the bet, Steph. Great job, Jason, congratulations, I guess.” She raised on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly.

Probably last thing he needed, since instead of making him calm down the fight with her, feeling her body underneath him while pinning her down did exactly the opposite. And the feeling of her soft lips on his face only fueled him more. He needed her. He wanted her. It’s been too long since he had her.

“You did well, Y/N” Dick patted her shoulder as he walked past him “I think we all had enough for today.  Let’s just hit the showers.”

“Sure….”

Y/N moved towards the bathroom, adjacent to the training room. She knew Jason never meant to hurt her, but once he got into his Red Hood mode, he was oblivious to his own strength. And while fighting she was his opponent, not his girlfriend. And she wanted him to not go easy on her.

But still, it was painful and single unwanted tear flew down her cheek.

She wiped it off, angrily and slowly started taking off her sweaty workout clothes. But before any of them could actually hit the floor,  she felt hands wrapping around her from behind and let out a gasp struggling against the grip.

“Sh!” one palm covered her mouth silencing her in an instance “it’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

“Jace!” she whispered-yelled turning around to face him “what the hell are you…..?” she cut off, her eyes widening and wandering all over him. He was naked. Absolutely naked. And absolutely horny. Ready for action and the sight of him being so hard for her made her let out a moan.

“see anything you like?” he smirked so full of himself.

“Jace….” She whined, wrapping arms around his neck immediately pulling him to a kiss, pressing herself close to him.

Of course, she wanted and needed him too. Maybe even more than he needed her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” he gasped, hands wondering all over her curves, not able to satiate of the feeling of her so close, being so vulnerable in his embrace, so submissive to his every action and movement "I missed you so bad, baby.” Those calloused palms dived under the hem of her sport bra, painfully slowly lifting it up, forcing her to put her arms up and let go of him for a moment. Too long moment for her liking as the second that piece of material was gone she clung to him like a magnet.

“Mmmm.” She whined, feeling his lips on her neck, nibbling softly on the sensitive skin and massaging her breasts, pinching slightly on the pebbled nipples.

“You gotta keep quiet baby.” He smirked, now playing with the hem of her panties, caressing so close to where she needed him “Thin walls. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

“Hmmm.” She muttered mockingly taking a step back entering into the shower cabin, getting rid of her panties herself, completely exposed and motioning for him to follow “Hear us, baby. You’re not exactly the quiet type either. Come get me….” The girl whispered turning the water on, the broad stream dampening her whole body and hair.

She was never hotter.

Those lust-blown eyes, slightly reddened cheeks, plump and kiss-swollen lips …. Her body was practically screaming to him, so ready for more. She was looking at him with that sexy, lustful, seductive expression. All for his taking. With one stride he was next to her, pressing her whole body to his. Closer, closer, closer. And yet still not close enough. Her soft and silky skin, her every curve, all for him and he was not going to oppose to that gift in front of him. Passion and love consumed them both, hot water and the fogged bathroom  creating the steamy atmosphere only added to those feelings an fueled them.  

 “Baby…. Don’t stop, please, fuck, don’t stop” her hands found a way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling gently, pressing his head and mouth to her skin. “I want more.”

“Did I hurt you?” he suddenly pulled back looking into her eyes “is your leg all right?”

“It hurts….” She whined, pouting and reciprocating his gaze with the saddest, softest expression almost begging him to take care of her. In a very specific way.

“How can I make it better?” he whispered, heavily, resuming nibbling on her neck, causing another whine to slip past her lips.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing…. be … be soft with me today.” She begged “be gentle, baby…. It’s been so long, I forgot how you feel.”

“I’ll remind you. “

“How will you remind me?” she gasped when he bit on her collarbone, hickey already forming, her core throbbing and feeling so neglected, aching.

“I’ll kiss every part  of your perfect body. I’ll make you feel so good baby. I’ll get you high. Let me.”

“Take me, Jace” she moaned clawing on his broad back, his muscles tensing and flexing due to her ministration “now. Please, baby, please, I need you. I need you so bad.” she almost cried, all the sensations overwhelming her.

“Are you sure? Like you said, it’s been a while. Can you really take it?”

“Yes, yes please…. please Jason, please, please.” Tears started falling down her cheeks, masked by the streams of water on her face and he was quick to kiss all that pain away, lips brushing over her jaw and neck, nose rubbing nose before he captured her lips again. She wanted him to be gentle and he was going to comply. Just showing her all the love he had, without words, purely by action.

 “I missed this.” he whispered tracing a pattern up her inner thigh, causing her to spread her legs slightly “I missed being with you like this. Away from everyone, just us.”

“Mhmmm.” She shuddered when his fingers found their destination “Just us, baby. You and me. I’m all yours.”

“And I’m yours. Tell me how to please you princess. Tell me what you need. Tell me how you need. I want to know all your little fantasies.”

“No fantasies. Not today.” She shook her head “Not here. I want it simple. Just lift me and don’t let me slip.”

“I won’t” he promised quickly catching up what, how and where she needed, grabbing backs of her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her into the wall for support, one hand on her back, the other in her hair, massaging gently, tilting her head to get access to more of her skin.

“IT’S COLD!”she let out an involuntary scream taking them both by surprise.

“SH!!” he silenced her again “I told you to be quiet! They are gonna catch us!”

“Do you really think they haven’t realized you sneaked in here the second the training session was over? Please….” She rolled eyes “besides, do you really care? Come on, you have me in the palm of your hand, baby.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him, moving slightly up and down to create any friction and make him take some action. Much to her delight it got her a groan from the back of his throat and she shuddered at that sound “I’m quite the catch, don’t you think? And you can do what you wish with that” her seductive whisper In his ear seemed to finally spur him on.

“The best.” He responded pushing  in. Fighting the urge to just go all in with one thrust, but remembering what she asked him for. And instantly getting the reminder when she writhed with some discomfort, nails digging into his back. He loved that sweet pain, but was still mindful that it indicated that she was pushing past her limits.

“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, rubbing her back reassuringly, trying to help her relax.

“I know…” she hissed feeling him push another couple inches in “I told you, it’s been….. a moment since we …..  and …. Mmmm.” The slightest frown appeared on her face and her mouth hung open for a while whilst her body started getting a memo of how good it was to have Jason inside her. How perfectly aligned they were. “Jace…..” she gasped out, already wanting and needing more.

“I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jason. We both know you can’t stop at this point. And I can take it. I promise, I can take it. I want you whole. In me. Now.” she arched her back, trying to take in more of his shaft .

“You have me. I….” he hesitated. Words were still hard, but he felt the urge to say them. To assure her, that what he felt was true and that he cared for her.  “I love you baby. So fucking much.” His lips found hers once more and he bottomed out with one more push swallowing her scream as her pussy fluttered around his digits so deliciously. She was right, he didn’t really care about his family overhearing them going at it, damn, he was fucking proud and bragging about being the one to make her feel good enough to scream (suck that, Grayson). But that little sucker knew that forcing her to keep her mouth shut would result in her clawing on his back again. And he wanted that. She was all his. Her body, her mind, her soul, her screams and moans, her actions.

Everything.

Jason Todd was one selfish and possessive bastard.

But still caring.

“Jace…” she panted when he finally let her lips go, allowing her to take a breath. Not that she was capable of breathing while having him like this.

“You’re good? Can I…..?”

“Just…. Just a second….” She wriggled her hips, adjusting to the stretch, causing him to groan.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.” He warned, squeezing her butt cheek.

“Oh, I am being tormented here. Forced, used, attacked from behind, abused.” She mocked tearily “poor little me.”

“Forced, baby? Abused? I can’t really see you opposing very actively.”

“Just move you little shit.” She laughed lightly, patting on his shoulder, urging him to start thrusting. And he did. Slowly, carefully. It was easy to get lost in her, but this time he was not going to rush that intimacy. They had all the time in the world. Eternity to worship each other. The external world might as well stop existing and explode and they would be perfectly happy just moving in that sensual, intimate pace, holding onto each other. Living in the bubble they created from their passion and love.

“I….” she whined, throwing her head back, resting it on the tiles and feeling the fire forming in her belly. At this point, her body was on fire and she didn’t care whether the wall was cold or not “I missed this too, Jason. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know….” he mumbled using the opportunity to kiss the exposed column of her throat moving towards her nipples, swirling his tongue around them, licking all the water droplets gathered there making her moan loudly “I’m fucking perfect for you.”

“Jace…..” she started moving against him, chasing her own high. She never knew that slow, soft loving could be so much better and more fulfilling than the rough, fast pace he usually set

“Hm?”

“Please…..”

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop loving me…. Just…. don’t …. ” shit, she was so close.

“I could never, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” He took a step forward, pressing her further into the wall and adjusting the grip on her back, making sure she would not slip.

“You are, but …. More. Please. Please, baby, please, oh, god” he didn’t pick up the pace but started moving harder on her almost making her snap “yes…yes, Jace, yes, baby.” She was no so loud there was not a chance those sounds didn’t echo through the whole manor. Most probably reaching not only the youngest but Alfred and Bruce as well.

Oh, well, that’s really (not) a shame.

“I thought I told you to be quiet, princess?”

“Fuck! Fuck! I don’t care! AH! Jason! Jace, baby, yes! Yes! Fuck! Please! God, baby, don’t …. So close…. Mmmm…”  

“You’re gonna come for me, baby? Right now? Can you be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“JA…..” he didn’t give her even the slightest chance to scream his whole name, pressing his mouth on her swallowing the other part of it, feeling her body shudder and shake in his arms.

She was so fragile, so vulnerable, so sensitive and so overstimulated that even when he himself came, she was still clinging onto him. Not wanting to let go. Wanting him to stay, to hold her like that, to shower (pun intended) her with aftercare, attention, affection. She just needed him close. Not in a physical way, but emotional. And if he were to pull out and get out of this freaking bathroom, out in the world, forced to face it, she would lose that part of him. She wasn’t ready to let go of her emotional Jason. Not yet.

“Stay.” She begged looking straight into his eyes. “Please, stay.”

“Baby….” He kissed her forehead, slowly dropping her to her feet, hands secured on her waist, making sure her shaky legs wouldn’t give up on her,  holding her close.

“I don’t want to go there….”

“Now you scared they heard?”

“It’s not that… I…. I need you.Not the one you are with your siblings. The you¸ you are only for me” she brushed her lips over his slowly, gently “please…”

“I know. And I’m not leaving you. How could I?” he pecked her lips “but we can’t stay here forever.”

“Why?” she whined, hiding face in his chest and massaging his back “It’s nice and warm and spacious….”

“Don’t you think someone will take interest in why the water in this particular shower keeps running for hours non-stop?”

“hours, huh?” she smirked, licking her lips. She was so damn ready for round two.

“I bet it would be Alfred. Do you really want that?”

“No.” she looked down, suddenly ashamed by the thought of the family butler being a witness to their workout and forcing them out alongside with making them clean the bathroom of everything they may leave behind.

Jason kissed her temple briefly and reached behind him to grab a towel and wrap her in it, slowly helping her dry herself, smile never leaving his lips. She was looking so tiny and adorable like this. In her post-coital bliss. He wanted to remember that relaxed, peaceful look on her beautiful face.

Only when they both were dressed properly and somewhat presentable they dared to take a peek through the door, making sure no one was around. As fast as lighting and as quiet as the mouses they rushed to Y/N’s room, ready for cuddling and a movie marathon, but much to their surprise they had an unwanted guest waiting for them there.

‘You are both disgusting.” Damian hissed

“And you are here cause you wanted to say it to our faces?”

“Yes. Just letting you know. Oh, and… Y/N. You should know you actually made Steph win a bet.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, brows furrowing

“There was another. Between Brown and Grayson. She bet we would hear you. Grayson had more faith in your self-control. And he’s angry about losing. Good luck talking to him about it.”

“Oh, damn it….” Y/N whined, hiding face in hands, turning red.

“What was it that you said when I told you they are going to hear?” Jason tapped his chin “oh, right, I don’t care. Well, don’t you now?”

[sansaorgana]

If the both of you were hurt in a accident, I can see Benny, even if he’s all battered and bruised, jump out of his hospital bed to see how you are 😍

hello, sweetheart! oh, he definitely would do that 😅💗 thank you for your request 😇 I got a little inspired by the movie Easy Rider when it comes to the accident 🙈

requests for benny are open 🥺🎀

Benny was a skilled motorbike driver and he knew when he could go faster and show off – he felt the motorbike like a part of his own body at this point. And as much as he loved to show off his skills in front of you, he would never do that when you were actually riding with him. No, when you were sitting behind him, clutching to his sides, he wouldn’t even speed up too much – just a little bit above the limit. Benny would never want anything bad to happen to you.

But Benny couldn’t control other people on the road. He could only control his motorbike but not the cars and trucks that were all over. Some of their drivers had a problem with the bikers – in the country that loved freedom so much, the ones who lived truly free remained the outcasts. And it was one of the truck drivers who made sure that Benny’s bike would lose its balance and end up in the ditch. Just like that, without even caring about the lady sitting in the back. He drove away. If he wanted to kill you two, then he could consider himself unlucky because Benny was too skilled to lose control of his motorbike completely and he managed to avoid the worst.

He had a slight concussion and his arm was twisted from putting it behind to soften your fall and make sure to at least protect your head. The nurses were trying to calm him down and make him rest but he couldn’t as he kept asking about you.

“Why isn’t she in the room with me?” He asked for the tenth time and the woman sighed, giving up.

“Women don’t share rooms with men,” she explained.

“I gotta see her,” Benny shrugged her off as she just finished putting a bandage over his twisted arm to make sure it would stay in one place now. “I gotta see my girl.”

“Mr. Cross, you’ve had a concussion. You should rest now,” the other nurse tried to make him lay down but he pushed her hands away.

“Not before I see (Y/N),” he gave her a deadly glare. “Why don’t you want to tell me what’s wrong with her?”

“You are not a family member,” the woman looked him up and down. He knew why they treated him like that – because he was a biker. A dirty bum and they didn’t approve of that lifestyle. In their eyes, it would be better for the society if he had died there.

“Just tell me the room number,” he mumbled but they looked at each other and left him, closing the door behind.

Benny was pissed. He was fine, after all. And he needed to see that you were, too. So, he jumped out of bed, feeling a little dizzy but ignoring it completely as he limped to the door. His legs were not broken but they still hurt badly after the fall.

He opened the door and found himself in the hospital’s corridor. He approached the small board with all the important information about the facility and he found out that the rooms for women were on the floor under his. So, he went to the emergency staircase – where no one would see him – and he slowly limped down with greeted teeth to handle the pain better. He was determined to find you and only then he would be able to rest properly.

He was planning to peek inside every room until he’d find you but at the sight of the woman at the end of the corridor, he realised he didn’t have to. He swallowed thickly as he approached your mother. She gave him a very dirty look but he also spotted some sympathy in her eyes when she saw the way he limped.

“Oh, Benny. I would beat the shit out of you but I don’t beat cripples,” she crossed her arms.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” he looked down. “How is she?”

“She’s gonna be fine. But if I see her once more on that goddamn motorbike of yours, I’m gonna kill you, boy,” your mother threatened and Benny looked up to give her puppy eyes like a beaten dog.

“Can I see her?” He asked, quietly.

“Go on,” your mother shook her head and pointed at the door on his right.

Benny pushed them softly and smiled at the sight of you sitting on your bed. You were reading a magazine and stuffing yourself with chocolates your mother had surely brought you. You had a scratch on your cheek and a bandage on your arm as well.

“Hey,” he greeted you awkwardly and you looked up. Your heart skipped a beat to see him so weak and hurt.

“Oh, baby! They told me you had a concussion, you should be in bed!” You protested.

“They told you, huh? They didn’t want to tell me shit about you. Had to see with my own eyes,” he admitted with a chuckle as he limped to your bed to sit on the edge. “You okay, baby?”

“Well, I’m worried ‘bout that,” you pointed at your cheek. “I’m worried it’s gonna stay. The scar, I mean. What they gonna call me then? Scarface?” Your lower lip trembled. “And I’m gonna be ugly.”

“You’re never gonna be ugly, stop it,” Benny dismissed it with a shake of his head. “And how’s your head, dollie?”

“I don’t even have a concussion!” You told him with a smile. “All thanks to you.”

“I’m glad. And the arm? Why is it bandaged?” Benny pointed his finger at it.

“I might have scars there, too. But that I can cover, right? It just got pretty bloody and some glass got inside but it’s not infected, thankfully. They stitched it up a little, so yeah,” you explained and shrugged your arms. “Gee, baby, that was so scary. Why did that redneck do that? We were just riding, weren’t we? What problem did he have with us?”

“I dunno,” Benny shrugged his arms, too and he looked down. “But your ma’s right, you shouldn’t ride with me anymore.”

“Don’t be stupid, I already told her there’s no way. If it was your fault, I’d consider it but it was not! And in fact, I am alive thanks to you,” you grabbed his hand to squeeze it. “Now, give me a kiss and go back to your room to rest,” you ordered and Benny cracked a smile at you.

He loved you for your spirit and devotion. He leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon your lips and he traced gently the scratch on your cheek.

“If it stays, it’s gonna look badass, dollie, I’m tellin’ ya,” he whispered and you giggled.

“When you say that, you’re making me want for it to stay,” you admitted. “Now, go rest.”

“Can’t I rest here?” Benny asked, giving you puppy eyes.

“You can,” you nodded and moved slightly on the bed so he could lay next to you. You went back to reading your magazine and played with his hair gently to soothe him.

He was dozing off when two old nurses opened the door to your room rapidly and you looked up at them, confused.

“For God’s sake, there he is,” one of them said. “Mr. Cross!” She approached Benny to wake him up.

“Let him stay here, sister,” you pouted.

“Absolutely not!” She shook him and he opened his sleepy eyes to rub them.

“You shouldn’t shake him like that, he’s had a concussion,” you pointed out and pushed her hands away.

“He should be in his own bed,” she snapped at you angrily.

You didn’t like the way they were treating him. He was your sweet Benny, your lovely boyfriend, the love of your life. And they were treating him like a piece of shit – worse than a dog.

You gave her a dirty look and caressed Benny’s face gently as his hazy eyes focused on you.

“Hey, baby, I think you should go now,” you spoke to him softly. “But don’t worry, we’re going out tomorrow, yeah? And I’m gonna take you home with me, no matter what my mum says. And I’m gonna take care of you,” you promised. “Now, go, sleep it off,” you encouraged him to sit up slowly and leave your bed as the two angry nurses took him by his arms and nearly dragged him out of your room. “Be careful!” You shouted after them but they ignored you.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[zweiginator]

oooh sobbing over the thought of CEO!patrick seducing you, the daughter of his business rival. he takes you into a private room at some fancy gala you’re both attending, shoves his hand up your designer ball gown and fingers you until you’re shaking, knees giving out, cumming over and over again. he has you pressed up against the door, rattling it with each thrust of his palm onto your clit. just after your third or fourth orgasm, you both hear your father walking down the hallway outside. your eyes widen. patrick is quick to shove his free hand over your mouth, press his body up against yours, and curl his fingers into that spot. he nips at your throat and shushes your muffled moans as you cum again "don't want daddy to hear his little girl give up some easy pussy like a whore for a zweig, do we?"

oh i gasped.

and its 100% a carnal desire for patrick. but its also to spite your father. he’s wanted to have you since your father showed the shareholder meeting a photo of you, his prized eldest daughter. he had told you all how proud of you he was. about to graduate with her bachelors and go off to her first big girl job.

patrick fucking hated him. wanted to take his investors away all for his shitty company with old-school systems and geriatric board members.

he was cutthroat, but so was patrick. even though he was pretty young for a CEO, just 34. your father thought he was much too arrogant. didn’t know the traditional values of business and pleasing customers.

but patrick knew more about user interface, coding. how people function in the twenty first century.

it seemed like your father’s and patrick’s companies were always neck and neck. served the same purpose, but acted like a war of generations, old money versus new.

and now he’s stuck at a gala with his fucking business rival, the old piece of shit. and you, his eldest daughter. so prim and proper and pretty.

patrick shakes your hand and you take a swig from your champagne flute. you introduce yourself and he says he knows exactly who you are. you apologize.

“i’m sorry im not sure who you are exactly. please forgive me i meet so many people.”

“i wouldn’t expect you to know me. your father wants me dead. patrick zweig.”

you swallow the last of your champagne. “oh i’ve heard plenty about you. a CEO at your age? he despises it.”

but there’s a playfulness in your tone and patrick bounces off it. charms you the only way he knows how. subtly shows off his body; it’s clear he’s fit even underneath his suit. and, he flirts. not just with his banter but with his eyes. the curl of his lips in a smile. how he manages to get you somewhere more quiet. it’s much too loud out in the open like that.

he tells you your dress is gorgeous. he spins you around in it. and when you lose your balance, he catches you. it’s like a fucking rom com.

and then you’re in a separate, smaller conference room. patrick has had meetings at this hotel before, over shitty coffee and the promise of a cigarette after.

but he presses you against the wall. catches your lip in his mouth and licks inside. hot and messy and your leg wrapped around him. you sign and moan into his mouth because he’s good at this. of course he is, he’s ten years older than you. you pull his hair, his collar, his tie. and you feel how he smiles against your lip. your father would fucking hate this. his pretty little daughter hanging off him, squeezing his bicep for purchase.

you tilt your head back for him to kiss his neck and he bunches the skirt of your silk dress around your waist. you’re wearing a red thong. patrick smacks your ass. the sound reverberates and he presses a finger to your lip as if it were you who voluntarily made the sound.

he pushes his fingers into your mouth. tells you to get them soaked for him and you do, holding his wrist in place for him. there’s a tent in patrick’s pants but he wants you to cum. wants you to be his little plaything. have to bite your tongue when your daddy asks you if you have a boy in your life cause you could never tell him his sworn enemy just fingered you at the annual big investment gala.

he splits your cunt open with his fingers. and you’re already so wet for him. he clasps his free hand over your mouth and you don’t know how to be quiet because he’s cooing in your ear about that perfect, perfect pussy of yours.

“oh she likes me.” he strokes that special spot inside you that makes your knees buckle and you nod. tell him you’re cumming— but patrick just keeps going faster.

you’re being loud now. the sounds of his mouth devouring yours is lewd. your red lipstick is all over his neck, his cheeks, his own lips.

“dirty little girl. daddy’s wondering where you are right now. probably realizes he hasn’t seen me in a minute either. the toasts probably starting in a minute and here you are spreading your pussy wide open for me.”

patrick’s hand is around your throat. it all makes you cum again. your legs shake and patrick muffles a low, ‘shit’ because the doorknob is rattling and how are you going to explain how your makeup is on patrick’s suit jacket?

[flashbangstars]

Domestically, Painfully, Loving.

Pairing: Renjun x Female Reader wc: 2.5k+

Summary: You and Renjun have been roommates for the past two years and apparently the roommate dynamic you thought you had was not very roommate-y

Genre: suggestive, fluff, he and MC are painfully domestic.

Warnings: suggestive at the end/mentions of sex (like I literally just say sex a lot)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

It was for sure one of those mornings. You didn’t wake up to any of your alarms, your windows were drawn, and your bed was too warm to get out of. The thought of skipping the 9 am you had was now in bright bold letters in the forefront of your brain and honestly seemed like the move. 

Then all of a sudden I hear this grating voice…. Just kidding it’s just Renjun. You hear him shuffling around in the hallways outside dangerously close to your door. You both had sworn to not lock your doors if it was a regular night because He had claimed it was a safety hazard. 

You heard the door knob jingle, and then devastatingly open to Him in all his glory. He was fully dressed minus shoes and had the annoyed look he usually carries when you piss him off. 

“It is almost 8:00 and if you don’t get up you’re going to miss your class,” He said sternly as he invited himself into your room and went to your closet

“I think I might just take the L on this one and miss it” you yawned and rolled over turning your back to him.

“No, and please don’t ever say “take the L” in front of me ever again,” Renjun said as he dug through your closet.

“Sorry, Your Highness” your voice strained as you slumped over in bed attempting to get up. 

“I put clothes on your chair, I’m giving you 20 minutes and then we are leaving,” He said as he grabbed your wrists pulling you the rest of the way out of bed. Leaving you to your own devices after. 

Renjun and you had lived together for 2 years now and this was the dynamic. Renjun helped you keep your shit together, and simultaneously you helped him not lose his. A perfect balance. 

On your desk chair was a white sweatshirt and matching white sweatpants. One of the sets you had invested in after Renjun had introduced you to the world of “nice sweats” and on top of the sweat suit was a black sports bra from your dresser. There weren’t a lot of boundaries between you at this point, to be honest.

After changing you trudged into the bathroom where he was standing finishing his hair. Nudging him with your hip to move you slid in closer to the outlet of your hair. Renjun grabbed your hair into a ponytail and pulled it off your neck. 

“I think you should wear your hair in a claw clip, it shows off your neck” You blinked at both of your reflections in the mirror with zero energy to fight him, nodding in agreement. Renjun then grabs the brush from the side brushing your hair out, and then twisting it into the claw clip. 

“Alright there you go,” Renjun said patting your hip, moving you out of his way to finish his hair.

“I already ordered coffee so we gotta go soon, go put your shoes on, and do the Jordan's not the Converse,” Renjun ordered you around as he blow-dried his hair. 

Finishing the multiple tasks he gave you, you were now standing at the door waiting for him to come escort you to the kitchen like a goddamn kindergartener to school. Now joining you in the entryway putting his shoes on. He was wearing a pair of loose-fit jeans and a white button-up on top of a T-shirt. 

This contrast between you two is crazy.

You two both lived a very domestic life. When you had moved in together you strikingly got along really well. Renjun had slowly but surely worked himself to be at the forefront of important people in your life. He was just a very considerate person in his way and it showed with those he cared about….which you just happened to be!

Does he dress you up like a little doll sometimes.. yes! And like who doesn’t like that shit, domesticity in a household is like crack to weak-minded, and hey bitch.. I am the weak-minded.

Getting to campus you departed from Renjun and walked towards the lecture. Finding your spot in the auditorium and going to your friends who have saved it for you. 

“Good morning darling, look who showed up today” Giselle nudged your shoulder laughing,

“And look! Her boyfriend got her coffee, god bless the lovely couple”  Karina traced her finger along the big RENJUN written on the side of your coffee cup. 

“Oh shut up, he’s not my boyfriend. He just buys the coffee in the morning” You shrugged taking a sip. Putting your coffee down meeting eyes with your two best friends silently staring at you with their eyebrows knit.

“What do you mean he isn’t your boyfriend” Giselle asked voice flat

“Renjun is not my boyfriend… we just live together,” You said again confused as to why you were being questioned. 

“Y/n are you kidding….?” Karina spoke up over Giselle’s shoulder sharing the same confused look “I watched you two hold hands the other day while walking home, like clasp your fucking fingers and hold hands” Gisele gripped Karina’s hand to demonstrate.

“Yeah because I was tired and need to keep up with him while we were walking he’s fast for a little guy” you explain trying to mediate whatever the fuck was now happening 

“Oh, you poor poor girl” Karina now pushing herself fully into the conversation “y/n people do not act like that with people who they aren’t dating plus you two live together… you do know that everyone thinks you two are dating right?”

You felt your hole clench at that statement. Hole clench, toe curl, and heart drop. “What do you mean people think we are dating..?” Your voice sounded more pathetic than you wanted it to be.

“Y/n you two are probably two of the most domestic people I know, I watched you and Renjun hug for a solid two minutes yesterday and then he fixed your hair after. Who the fuck does that. Other than two people who are having painfully loving sex?” She asked. 

You two weren’t having painfully loving sex! Neither of you were having sex! You would know, the walls are thin. 

“But we aren’t having painfully loving sex” you pouted still confused

“And that’s fucked up for you, and your vagina!” Karina rubbed your shoulder.

“Be honest with yourself Y/n would you have painfully loving sex with Renjun if you had the chance?” Giselle asked 

And just like that, your world fucking crashed in. Because you WOULD! You would have painfully loving earth-shattering war of worlds universe colliding sex with Renjun! Your body was in a sense of shock and you felt your eyes stuck open wide at the sudden realization you would bone your roommate and would maybe like to be in a grossly domestic relationship with him. 

“I think we broke her” Karina waved her hand in front of your face and snapped. 

“I think I have a crush on Renjun” you whispered in disbelief. 

“Substantial realizations here before 9 am ladies and gentlemen” Giselle clapped as if your now mental breakdown was an achievement.

“I think I need to go home right now and I think I need to go rethink everything that has happened to me for the past two years,” You said in a frantic whisper as you packed the rest of your things and left the lecture hall 5 minutes before class was supposed to start. Ignoring what Karina and Giselle were saying trying to get you to pause your mental breakdown and sit back down for geology 

Fuck geology I'm having a crisis!

Speed walking out of the lecture hall it still felt like you had a cold bucket of water dumped on you, and then someone pushed you down a flight of stairs too. How had you not realized you had a crush on him? You two did almost everything together, you did almost everything together!!!! 

Turning the corner and stopping dead in your tracks making eye contact with the devil himself, renjun. His eyes widened at first meeting yours, and then brows furrowed in confusion. You had two choices right now; run away OR admit defeat and face him. Running away seemed like the best option but you would have to face him later that night at the apartment and currently with the realization you were going through, you didn’t want to have to face him to explain why you ran away. 

The familiar pair of brows excused himself from his friends and walked up to you with a look of concern painting his features. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in science right now? Where are you going” he asked, the worry evident in his voice. Making your stomach twist into knots. 

“I uh.. don’t feel great so I think I’m just going to raincheck on classes today” you spoke not making eye contact with him once. Your eyes thought immediately shooting to meet his as he rested his hand on your forehead, and then slowly moved it to cup your cheek. 

“You do feel a bit warm” his voice was still laced with concern. Your face was warm, but that was due to the fact you were screaming on the inside from your roommate caressing your face to see if you were sick. “I don’t have a lecture for another 30 minutes but I can miss it I’ll take you home!” Renjun said and reached to grab your wrist to drag you towards his car. 

your wrist was tingling from the contact, and the thought of mind-blowing sex was now on the forefront of your conscious “NO *cough* no! I am fine, I’m going to take the bus and probably stop for some…tea! On the way home”

You don’t drink tea. 

His hand released your wrist and he scanned your face skeptically. “You don’t drink tea though” 

fUCK!

“Well, I just figured a good time to start! Being sick and all! *cough cough* wow! Okay well, I’m gonna go I will see you later!” Your sentence slowly lost control towards the end, you turned around and booked it to the bus stop, not even turning to see if he said bye or was still looking. 

It had been 2 years of you two living together, how did you just realize now? And people already thought you two were dating? Does everyone think we fucked?

Does he think we are dating??

Does Renjun think we are dating?

You two do regular roommate stuff, He literally dressed you this morning and did your hair… HE DRESSED YOU AND DID YOUR HAIR. Oh holy fuck oh god oh what the fuck

Were you two dating? We we dating???

As soon as you got home from the bus you paced the living room for a good 45 minutes trying to rethink the last two years and what may have been perceived as you two dating, and so far there was a lot. 

Renjun and you frequently hold hands, you both purposely created school schedules that ended and started around the same time each other, and you have both met each other’s families. The list fucking continues.

To be quite honest you weren’t sure what the reality was at all now. Renjun’s class ended at 12 and it was 12:15 so he would be home any minute. 

The lock clicked and you watched as the door opened to Renjun, Walking in and smiling at you.

“How are you feeling? You ran away before I asked you anything else” He asked as he took his shoes off, but continued to hold eye contact, returning to that same look he had earlier when you had sold the idea of you being sick.

Ripping the bandaid off you said it

“Are we dating?” The question sounded like a scream in the quiet apartment. 

Renjun paused and stood back up

“If that is what you wanna call it..?” He said shrugging

What do you mean ‘if that is what you wanna call it’

“Wait.. so you thought we were dating?” Your body began to tense at the prospect of you not being aware of your relationship status for the past two years 

Renjun looked away like he was thinking and tilted his head “Well no… But I don’t act the way I act with you with anyone else, I just figured we weren’t putting a label on anything” He said walking closer to you and sitting on the couch in front of you “You haven’t seen anyone, and haven’t expressed that interest in doing so and neither have I and to be very fair quite literally everyone thinks we are dating” he laughed at his last part of his sentence as you were melting into a small puddle in the middle of your living room. 

“Oh” was the only word able to make it out of your mouth as your state of shock had taken over your entire body. 

“I mean we already live together, it would honestly be quite convenient for us to be dating” Renjun added seemingly unaware of the turmoil you were still in. 

“But Karina said that we look like a couple who has painfully loving sex, and we aren’t having painfully loving sex though! We haven’t even kissed!” Did you whine at your roommate-boyfriends? Non-chalantness about the topic. 

“Well, we can. It doesn’t define a relationship, but if painfully loving sex is what you want then we can make it happen” His voice garnered a new lilt to it as soon as the prospect of coochie became a distant goal

‘Hold on PLEASE I’m so lost” You threw your arms up in surrender now confused as to what you had gotten yourself into.  “So you are actually into me?” You questioned 

“Yes, very” well damn.

“Oh okay, well yeah me too” you responded 

“Sick,” He said as he began to take his shirt off. 

“WOAH” the screech leaving your mouth before you could catch it 

“Painfully loving sex remember?” He said as he moved across the living room to grab you by the waist. “Would you be interested in some painfully loving sex, and for me to be your boyfriend officially?” His thumbs rubbed circles into your hips as he asked. 

Now your coochie was for sure in the mix, as much as you wanted to scream and claw at him like a feral animal, you kept it in. 

“That would be very nice yes! And yes I would love that” you decided to say instead.

His hands traveled from where they sat on your hips and landed under your thighs, picking you up and your legs clasping around his waist. And your hands made it to both sides of his his face bringing his lips to yours. 

It felt like two years of sharing beds and dangerously domestic actions all culminating in this sloppy kiss. His teeth teased your bottom lip and took it with him gently when he pulled away and then released. Your chest heaving from the lack of air, and your face red from the situation you were in 

“My room or yours.”

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Hello! here is the entry for Renjun, It's not one of my favorites but I liked the plot! lmk who you want next!

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[mraprilfools]

Summary: As Vox's personal Physician it's always been a challenge to get him to take care of himself. Your motives originally may have been professional, but the line started to blend somewhere along the way. Now you're determined to get him to listen.

Pairing: GN!Reader x Vox

Contents: Mostly self-indulgent fluff. Bashful Vox, Doctor Reader, Assertive Reader, Reader has Glasses, Kissing, Lots of Flirting and Banter, Vox is a dork, Vox has freckles he hides

Word Count: 8k

A/N: Dedicated to @6esiree for her Follower contest! Please accept my humble Vox fluff. As for my followers, keep an eye out for tomorrow's Imagine for a very special message from The Heart of a Machine's Vox!

“You need to cut down on your caffeine consumption. Not only are you hopelessly addicted, but your quality of sleep is suffering as a result.” The tests had been taken again, and again, and again at your boss’ request. As a professional, you had standards. You weren’t going to let something as stubborn masculine machismo bother you. But the results on your medical chart had been almost completely static. The metallic nub of your pen rapped against the clipboard over the offending results that kept staring you back in the face.

Vox was hunched over on the examination table, refusing to face you. Already slipping on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I didn’t say that the examination was over sir.” You reminded him, pressing up the glasses hanging on the bridge of your nose.

The artificial glow of that screen finally turned to greet you. The artificial smile he had was so kind to constantly parade in your presence, as obnoxious as always. “I am well aware, but I am saying it’s over. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

A challenge to your ability. A bold one too. There were few doctors knowledgeable enough in both machinery and biology. Fewer fanatical enough to learn the harmonious weaving inside your employer so you found the accusation funny. All but a single, “Ha” came out in a scoff.

Sparks of electricity crackled from Vox’s antennae, and the large crimson pools narrowed into squints. “And what’s so funny Doc?”

“You are Darling. If you wanted to get rid of me, we both know you would have long ago.” You curled your lips in a smirk, a clear defiance of your boss. With only half of his buttons slipped through, he gave up on the rest and rose to his feet. Long legs made quick strides over to you to make a direct challenge. Even when he stood nearly a foot over you, you didn’t feel intimidated in the least. You dropped the clipboard over to the counter, meeting his gaze defiantly, but cooly.

A foot stepped between your legs, and his body came close. You took a step back only for the sake of your balance, then another until he had your back against a wall. His hands pinned you in place while the eerie glow of his screen only grew more intense. There was a false cheer in Vox’s voice even as his smile never dropped.

“You’re cute, Doc. You’ve made yourself valuable, so you’re right. I give you a lot more slack than I would tolerate from anyone else in this worthless shit heap. However…” He pried one hand free to clap around your jaw. Holding you in place when the bladed end of his thumb pressed against your cheek, drawing a bead of blood from the pinpoint. A directed threat, no doubt to remind you that he could kill you at any time.

But he hasn’t.

“More people are falling to hell every day, you won’t be so unique forever.”

“So you admit that I’m one of the few who do know what they’re doing. So, can I count on you cutting down your coffee consumption down to three cups a day?”

His chest rose and fell as the energy left him. Vox pulled his hand away and returned to fixing up the buttons on his shirt. Turning his back to you to fetch the sweater vest thrown over the table, slipping it on next. A zipper on the side turned out to be the secret around putting on clothes when your head was a large television. Having a tailor right in the tower must be quite useful. “I can do the coffee. However, I don’t have time to sleep the full six hours you are recommending.”

“Daily.” You remind him.

He spun back around, uttering a scoff as his hands slipped through each sleeve of his blazer. The pointed cyan claws slid across the lapels. “Daily?! Now you’re just being ridiculous Doc.”

“Have I been known to tell you jokes, Vox?” You lifted a brow.

“Yes, actually. You make jokes about how stupid half of my employees are all the time. The other half you have creative insults about how brutish, boring, or pathetic they are. I’m starting to think you don’t like anyone in the tower...” Vox raised both his brows, sporting that smarmy little grin.

“Because I don’t, save a few exceptions.” You answered. “I’m not paid to like people. I’m paid to keep you healthy.” You pushed off the wall, seating yourself in the single office chair that had been afforded for the office. The leather squeaked with the new weight, wheels shifting from the sudden weight that had you barreling toward your coffee cup. You draped one leg over the other, pressing your back against the chair while you gave your boss your undivided attention.

The cyan eyes rolled within the crimson pools. At last, his bow tie was tied around his neck perfecting the image of the business CEO. Almost a shame how quick he always was to put his clothes back on. The technological and biological nature of his body was a near obsession of yours; even if you never admitted it.

“Is the friendship-making package extra?”

You raised your shoulders in answer. You hooked your fingers around the mug on the desk with your cup of coffee. The irony of it after telling him to cut his consumption didn’t bother you. “Do you want me to make friends Vox? I don’t see how that would benefit you at all.”

“It won’t.” He admitted as he walked by. The chair was sent backward as his claws laid hands on it, forcing you to make eye contact when he lingered from behind. “Only wondering how much I pay you goes into pretending to like me.”

You couldn’t help but break out into more laughter. The sight of which earned a sultry frown and a retraction of the hand that had come so close to him. You caught your glasses, preventing them from careening off your face. “You don’t pay me anything for that sir, you’re one of the few people in hell I do like.”

“You have a weird way of showing it… telling me to take care of myself.” He chuffed, shooting a nasty glare at the coffee in your hands. Unaffected, you took a sip. He could cope.

“I know, I’m a trailblazer. Do you need me to prescribe you sleeping pills or do you think you can handle it?”

Vox laughed, “Doctor, please! I can do something as simple as fall asleep! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Even if you couldn’t see it, you could almost feel that eye roll looking at the back of his head. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you with that curt goodbye.

Vox, however, never listened to his doctor. Even IF you were always right. It was a hunch as you were finishing up writing up samples for the night. But the thought came to mind to check on your boss to see if he was heeding your well-intentioned advice. Your employee keycard gave you generous access, only beneath the Vee’s who could go everywhere. So it wasn’t any trouble stopping by that ridiculous office of his.

He was seated before a mural of monitors depicting snapshots of the lives all across Pentagram City. Wires were currently plugged into the back of Vox’s head, absorbed in his… information-gathering activities. Vox was completely unaware of your presence. You breathed a heavy sigh, resigning to the fact that you once again had to get this man to take care of himself. You passed through the bridge without fear, where the circling shark tanks beneath spoke of a deadly fall several floors down. Such a waste of space for an aesthetic. Your polished shoes smacked into the back of the chair, startling the Overlord within.

Arcs of electricity shot out from all angles. Coating the chair and his body as the wires all unplugged from their ports one by one and the frantic man spun around with an intense swirl in his right eye. The claws extended, drawing gouges in the rests beside him. All the fight in him sputtered out the instant he caught sight of you, painted over with annoyance.

“Doc! I did not call for you. What are you doing here?”

With your arms folded across your chest, you answered. “Coming to catch you red-handed. You should be sleeping.”

“Shouldn’t you?” He fired back, hunching low.

Touche, but you wouldn’t admit it. You pushed up the frame of your glasses before you answered.

“It’s not my fault the help I have in the lab is so incompetent. I can’t trust them to do something as simple as label specimens. It would be a terrible safety risk if I left it to them. If anything, I am a hero of Voxtek.”

Vox laughed, leaning back into his chair. It was genuine laughter, unlike that dorky evil cackle he thought nobody ever heard when he was alone. A palm smacked his thigh, with a crooked grin sliding heavy to the right of his screen. “Sounds like we’re both guilty, Doctor. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Tell who exactly?” You asked, striding up to the man. You sat on one of his thighs spread so wide it was practically an invitation. The overlord stiffened, digging his claws back into the plastic armrest, staring a hole at you. “What darling? There aren’t any other chairs and you wouldn’t have me stand the whole time would you?”

“No, I just didn’t expect you to try and seduce me.” He answered.

“Ah? And why do you think I am trying to seduce you?” You sent the question back to him, easing until your back pressed against the rest. You threw one leg over the other, balancing yourself by clutching the armrest. Your fingers only brushed against the cyan claws and he instantly yanked them out of reach.

“Oh, do you sit in any man’s lap then? And here I thought I was special.”

“I don’t like most people, Vox. You are special.”

Unexpectedly, the words brought a strange light blue glow to Vox’s face. He was just as shocked as you were, throwing an arm to cover the strange color in his face. There was an attempt to hide it as his face turned away, but he didn’t throw you off so you took that as a victory.

“What do you want?”

“For you to go to bed darling, that should be obvious.”

When he lowered the arm, you could see a deep frown on his display. The technicolor eyes bore into yours, locking you in eye contact trying to force the truth from you. A common tactic as most couldn’t lie while maintaining eye contact. But you were telling the truth so you made yourself comfortable admiring the view until the silence made him give up. With a sigh, he put his hand on your back and forced you back to your feet.

“Alright, I’ll go to bed, Doctor.” Vox shoved you off, forcing you back to your feet. He refused to even touch you, only lurching forward until you were forced to either catch yourself or fall. With a low grumble, you fixed your coat, keeping well away from the ledge.

Vox took two steps toward the bridge when he stopped and turned to look at you. “Do you flirt with all your patients?”

“Well darling, considering that you are my only patient? Yes.”

Vox chuffed, hooking a thumb forcefully into his pocket. The back of the TV greeted you, shoulders rolling as he weighed your answer. “And before I hired you, how many of your patients did you hit on?”

A single digit tapped your chin, which meant thinking back to something that hardly mattered. How often you satisfy your urges shouldn’t matter to your boss. But for the sake of this flirting to keep going you obliged. “Only the hot ones darling. I jump the bones of the ones I want nothing to do with besides their dick. But I take my time with the ones I really like.”

More electricity danced from his antennae. To busy his hands, Vox tugged and pulled at his bowtie. There was a joyful lilt in his tone as he answered, “Interesting. Good night Doctor.”

“Good night, Vox.” You followed right behind him, smiling with satisfaction. You felt happy that you finally got him to see reason, even if it meant flirting a little.

Or so you thought.

The next day, you decided to make another visit to his office to check if he went to bed on time. He was still plugged into the system, in the early hours of the morning. A little more flirting and back and forth was just as effective.

And the next day. There he was far more cold, not passing the buck back to you. But when you tried to excuse yourself, he’d find some excuse to make you stay for a minute or two longer.

And the next day too! Each time conning you into spending a little extra time with him. At first, it was only fifteen minutes. Then half an hour, and then you ended up lingering for a WHOLE hour. That was when you realized that if this got any worse, YOUR work would suffer.

Now that? That was unforgivable.

At this point, you suspected he was doing this on purpose. When you came charging down the bridge that evening, he was already spinning in place to greet you. You were expected. The bastard. The plugs in the back of his head popped free. Vox spun around in time to greet you with a wide smirk on his screen that faltered when his chair ended up swerving a little too far to the right. A heel smacked against the floor, giving him friction to push him back.

“You saw nothing,” Vox said.

“Pretty sure I did, you are up late. Again.”

“I slept yesterday. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Vox bent forward in his chair, looking smug. He was intentionally trying to rile you up now. You didn’t even attempt to hide your sigh. You glanced over to the monitors, still the same old surveillance for the most part. But there was one screen that stood out. The man was on Veddit. You adjusted your glasses to get a better look. Upon closer look, it was some subveddit asking advice about how to tell when somebody has a crush on you.

He was so pathetic it was endearing sometimes. His eyes followed yours, doing a double take when he noticed what you were looking at and smacked the console turning all the monitors off. Vox’s voice came out filtered as he attempted to sound assertive. “That’s classified company information. Nothing you are meant to be privy to Doctor. I’ll have to fire you if you keep looking.”

“I didn’t know relationship advice was sensitive company data. Are you having trouble with men, Vox?”

A faint blue light covered Vox’s screen beneath his eyes, his cyan pupils unable to meet you. Teeth clenched, his fingers rapped loudly against the armrests of his chair. You kept silent, watching him stew under the uncomfortable silence. His knee began to bounce, his fingertips clacking against the hard plastic until at last he groaned and rolled his eyes. “No! I could have anyone I wanted in Pentagram City in my bed by the end of tomorrow night if I wanted.”

Laughter spilled before you could help it. The sound inspired a swirl from his right eye, and another tense clutch of his claws gouging his chair. “What’s so funny?”

“You darling. You’re adorable.”

The color on his face grew more intense, as did his frown. He made some incoherent mumbling you couldn’t quite understand, but you were pretty sure at least one of those was an insult.

“How about a bet then, Darling? Whoever can bring a new partner into their bed first wins? If I win, you promise to go to bed no later than 1 AM. And if you win…” You sucked through your teeth, watching as his screen grew even more pale. A cyan claw nervously wove around the bow tie on his neck.

“If I win, you’re all mine for an evening,” Vox interjected.

Now there was a surprise, so he could take the lead. The man was already pushing himself up to his feet, stretching his back as he rose to his full height. “It’s about time I remind you who you work for.” Now he was compensating, with that blustering smile and the way he pulled on his lapels.

“Then it is settled! You can have an entire evening to see if you can make me as obedient as the rest of your employees.” You agreed. Unknown to Vox, you already had a plan that secured your victory. But you let him stew in the joy of his deal a little longer. The way his smile took up half his screen was endearing.

A pointed end met your chin as he forced you to look at him, the harsh artificial light shining a little too close for comfort. “I’ll make you sing for me, Doc. Though you are right… I’d almost miss your backbone. Almost.”

The screen was coming in close, dangerously so. With nowhere to go with that claw currently suck in your chin, you brushed away the mood with a question. “Would my magnanimous boss be willing to walk me home? Things have been rather dangerous in my neighborhood lately.”

Suspicion immediately colored his expression, with arcs of lightning dancing along his frame. Vox whipped his hand away, standing ramrod straight. “Didn’t you want me to go to bed? Trying to get a head start on me Doc?”

You coyly tilted your head. “No? If you’re that worried about that I can get somebody else to walk me. I’m pretty sure I could easily get Papermint to--”

A metallic claw smacked your shoulder, pointed ends digging into your flesh as a strained smile greeted you. Vox’s laughter came out deeply filtered. “That won’t be necessary! That man couldn’t defend you from a paper bag. I’ll be winning our little wager before the night ends, as I said. So I’ll gladly see you home and asleep while I take my victory.”

The pinprick stung, but it was a kind of pain that sent a shiver down your spine. Your hand laid over his, feeling the cool skin beneath for only a second before he yanked it away.

That was now the second time he yanked his hand from yours. Curious.

“Not if you are sleep-deprived, Vox. Come on then, it’s a bit of a walk through a bad neighborhood so I hope you aren’t too fond of your shoes.” You spun around first, taking the lead down the bridge. The larger overlord quickly strode over to catch up to you, refusing to let you guide him. Hands behind his back, he continued to stare at you from the corner of his screen, and he was terribly obvious.

“What is it darling?” You asked.

“...Can you stop calling me that?”

“What, darling?”

There was an uneasy shifting as he pushed out his pockets. The electronic door hissed open when the two of you approached by the proximity of the Overlord alone. The two of you took a turn down the hallways, empty and feeling almost haunted at these early hours.

“Yes.”

By how short the answer was, you suspected he wasn’t going to give you a reason why. As confident and blustering the man could be, there were always these little nuggets of insecurity that oozed. He was overcompensating. For most people, they wouldn’t bother to look any deeper. People were far more inclined to see what they wanted to see or to ignore anything that would be far too bothersome to address. A fact Vox relied on far too much.

Because you took an undeniable interest in this man. You knew his body better than anyone as his doctor. Knew how his heart was nothing but to ease his body dysmorphia. How he regulated his heat, how viruses affected his body, and how a simple cold could still lay him low. Initially, you wanted nothing more than to tear him open and learn everything but lately… you wanted to solve the riddle behind the little things. Such as why he wouldn’t let you touch his hand. Or why his screen always got a little brighter when you entered the room.

But if you pushed somebody too hard who didn’t want to be known, you risked pushing them away. This would require a delicate touch.

“Very well, I will have to call you something special then.”

There was another flash of static as Vox pushed the call elevator button. The repeated shifting of his cyan irises was so obvious you had to hide your smile underneath your palm pretending to hide a cough.

“Like what? Voxxy?”

“Voxxy is cute...” You admitted with a shrug, “But that’s not special. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of exes call you that.”

Fragmentation flashed over this screen at that moment, the crimson pools almost comically large in his screen. The ding of the elevator was his saving grace, striding in quickly to save face. “I’ll let you know if you pick something unique then.”

Unique. Most people would likely pick something with his name or his head. Picture Box, Plasma, Sparky. In the silence of the elevator, you leaned against the wall and considered it. A nickname for you alone to call him. Vox joined you. Leaning against the wall almost close enough to touch but you knew better than to reach out and chance him pulling his hand away a third time.

“Dove.”You suggested.

“That’s… uh--” Vox let out a breathy chuckle. “Quite an old-fashioned nickname don’t you think? I think people stopped using that decades ago.”

“Do you dislike it…?”

Claws settled on the rail behind him, clicking against the bare metal. Each metallic noise sent shivers up your spine, seeing them so close but out of reach.

“I don’t dislike it, no. I’m not quite so nostalgic as half of Hell seems to be, but I can appreciate the effort.” The rare gentle smile on his screen was a sort you’d never seen before. Not the fabricated nonsense to disarm viewers or the manic joy when he was doing something comically evil.

Ping

The elevator came to a sudden halt as it hit the first floor. You stepped out first, with your boss lagging shortly behind. Thanks to how early in the morning it was, the two of you weren’t especially bothered by employees or gawking pedestrians. Hell in the early evenings was often when you could find the worst of it. Drunkards, people stabbed in the middle of the streets, demons locked in heat fucking in any half-discreet location they could find. It was a place of sin and debauchery and everyone happily indulged. Vox was a wary individual you learned from watching him.

Despite being one of the most powerful men in the Pride Ring he constantly watched the streets looking for threats. Occasionally he would catch you looking at him, blush, and look away. After the third or fourth time, he scoffed and tugged on his collar.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that? Actually- WHY are you flirting with me so blatantly? Are you trying to get a promotion?”

“Can I be promoted from your personal physician?”

“No.”

“Then the only reason is because I like you.”

There was a question of why, obvious by the way he looked at you full of confusion. “I… wasn’t expecting such an honest answer.”

You laughed. “This is hell Dove, there’s nothing to be gained by being shy. Somebody else might try to sink their claws into you first and I don’t like to lose.”

“Your wager seems counter-intuitive to your goal.” Vox rolled his eyes. Yet at the same time, he was reaching out to you. His claws bumped against your fingertips for only a fraction of a second. They were cold and sharp to the touch, but having conquered the wall put a pep in your step.

“On the contrary, I believe it’s proven quite effective. You are taking me home so another man doesn’t.”

“I-Wait, were you manipulating me?!”

You laughed again, hiding your great smile behind your hand. “I was! But you manipulate all of hell daily so I think you’ve lost all right to hold that against me.”

Vox stopped, narrowing his great big eyes. “I could leave right now, or did you account for that in your plan too?”

“Mmn, no I had planned to drag you into my bed tonight.”

A bright blue blush flashed over the man’s screen, his arm rising to try and hide it. Sparks and electricity danced between each prong. “I--! That’s not what we bet on!”

“No? The bed was to drag a new partner into our beds tonight. I’ve never been with you, so you count Dove.”

Still masking his face, Vox was now wavering, looking behind him as he tried to determine whether to foil your plot now or fall prey to it. Even this game of indecision was fun to watch. He sucked through his teeth, tapping his foot against the concrete.

“Doesn’t telling me your plan ruin your chances?”

“No, to my experience telling a man point blank you want them is far more effective than being shy about it. Am I wrong?” You flashed a smile full of teeth. “Of course, it also has a chance to backfire and make them so nervous they run. But I don’t believe you aren’t quite that timid.”

“Tch, hardly. Fine.” His claw clamped around your wrist. Cold, awkward, and grating against your bone it wasn’t quite what you imagined. You had a strong suspicion it was that exact reason that made him so hesitant to touch you before. He dragged you forward, but after you reached the end of the street he realized that he had no idea where he was taking you. When he looked at you for help, you laughed. As predicted, he sulked.

“Sorry, sorry! You are just so cute! We’re almost there. It’s that apartment over there.” You pointed straight ahead to a sleek modern apartment. It was one of the nicer buildings in the Entertainment district, one of Voxtek’s provided housing. The familiar V on the building clued Vox in.

The walk became closer to a power walk as he took you into your apartment. Having to at least concede to let you lead to take him to your apartment on the third floor, fourth door down the hall. He was deathly silent watching you unlock the door, following behind you as quietly as a mouse inside. That same nervous jitters returned to the usually powerful and confident CEO as he found himself in a strange apartment that wasn’t his own. Perhaps he expected you to jump his bones immediately but you instead took off your shoes, and lab coat, and made your way inside.

“Would you like tea, Dove? Sleepy-time tea ought to help you fall asleep.”

“Fall… asleep?” Vox asked. All the wind in his sails had fluttered out, baffled by the turn of events.

“Yes darling, what did you think I was taking you to my bed for? You are up past your bedtime.” You didn’t even attempt to hide the smug smile on your face, so instead you focused on filling a kettle and setting it on the stove.

“I--- You tricked me!”

“Indeed I did. Are you upset?”

To your surprise, he wasn't. He was deathly silent, standing in the hallway lost, unsure of what was going on. A claw hooked around his bow tie, untying it to make himself comfortable. Next came off the blazer, and then the top hat left on the coat rack by the door. Normally meant only to contain your coat, it added a touch of domesticity to see your coat have a partner. The blue and white looked nice. Could only hope the two of you would meld just as harmoniously. Vox sat down at your dining room table, taking a look around your abode.

“I’ve never been dragged into somebody's place to only sleep with them before. You’re… an odd one Doc.”

“I’ve been told.” You answered in a sing-song tone, preparing the tea cups. A packet of sleepy-time tea tucked into each porcelain cup with saucers meant to carry a touch of your personality. “I like you too much to bed you this early.”

“I-- don’t get that. If you like me, doesn’t that mean I’d already be inside you, fucking you on your kitchen counter?” Vox scoffed, rapping his nails against the table. The kettle hissed with steam when the water was ready. After laying down the teacups and saucers you popped the kettle off the stove and poured into each cup. Joining your boss from the chair directly across from him.

“Come now, isn’t that how courtship used to work? A man would get to know a woman, and show her that he really liked her for her and not just her body. It’s like that Dove. Now, I would love to unwrap you but I’m more curious to know the man you are. Like-- why don’t you like it when I touch your hand?”

Vox twitched, pulling his hand immediately off the table, suddenly self-conscious. “Who said I don’t like you touching my hand sweetheart?” He forced that fake smile of his, taking a friendly artificial tone.

“Because you keep pulling it away whenever I touch it.”

The smile fell, and his eyes fell toward the amber liquid in the cup. He lifted the cup, testing to see if it had enough time to steep. It had not even been a minute, so all he tasted was hot water. He set the cup down, feeling bitter. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

“Then you don’t have to. But I want to know.”

The chair skid back, with your boss leaning forward. “Let’s… forget this getting-to-know-me bullshit Sweetheart. It’s stupid, this is hell. I can fuck you until your eyes roll into the back of your head and forget this whimsy of yours Doc. You're my employee. Nothing more.”

You set your chin on the nest of your overlaid hands, matching his eyes. You pushed a little too hard. “No, you’re getting your sleep whether you like it or not. If we have to sit here in silence, I’m making sure you get the sleep you need, Vox.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Vox’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh. Waiting three minutes for tea to steep felt like an eternity to him. “A secret for a secret Doc. I’ll tell you why, but in return, you need to tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.” An accusatory finger jut your way.

“Do you want to get to know me too, Dove?” Unafraid, you coyly tilted your head. Vox opened his mouth to respond, shut it, and turned his screen.

“...Yes. I’ve never had somebody care this much for my health or try to get to know me. You’re weird, but not in a… bad way I guess. I’m not saying-- you’ll ever be more to me than an employee-- don’t get the wrong idea.” He quickly interjected his point. But the shuffling in his chair and the way he weighed his words so heavily you were liking your chances. “But I like talking to you Doc.”

“Well...” You began, skidding your foot against the floor. “I was once madly and deeply in love with a man before. I was utterly, completely besotted in a way I bet you never would have expected. I wrote and sang him poetry. Spent many evenings dancing with him by candlelight, and had disgustingly kinky sex in public spaces. But my favorites were always the nights when he’d be gentle with me like I was the most precious thing in all worlds.”

Vox’s mouth hung open and then shut. A fresh shade of color danced across his screen at the bold confession “You’re… right. I have a hard time believing that. You’re the last person I imagined being a romantic.”

You sputtered a laugh. “Right? I was surprised too. Have you ever been in love like that before?”

“I’m not answering that question.” He immediately shut you down. “I don’t like you touching my hands because… most people are scared of them. They hurt, they’re cold, they aren’t nice to hold at all. They’re great, don’t get me wrong! When I need to get people in line they’re a fantastic tool for intimidation. But well, we’re demons. I’m not… built for intimacy. Inside or out.” Voxmotioned over his body with the aforementioned hands.

“They’re beautiful hands though, Vox. When you grabbed my wrist it hurt a little but it wasn’t a bad pain. They’re more than worth it for you.”

The familiar blush returned, coming with such a vengeance you swore you saw some white pixels mixed in within the blush. Like a nebula reflected on his screen, little imperfections that made him look endlessly beautiful. “Noted. So, what happened to that guy? You wouldn’t be bothering with me if he was still in your life.”

“We were… incompatible. There’s a piece of me that’s broken beyond repair inside that made me fundamentally wrong for him. It wasn’t his fault or mine. Closer to mine I suppose, since I cannot quiet the demon inside me that threatens to tear my guts out raw from envy.” The memory came bitterly, mostly because it came with a realization that even for the man you loved most you couldn’t be fixed.

A cyan claw hooked through the handle, with Vox sipping his tea. He had grown deathly silent, draining the cup until it was down to its dregs all in one. It hit the saucer with a clatter. “You should drink your tea doctor.”

Silently you obliged, taking more reserved sips. Truthfully you didn’t need it as much as he did. Habit and a circadian rhythm did wonders in getting your body trained for sleep. But for the sake of calming your nerves, taking this man to your bed where you would not take his clothes off felt oddly more intimate than taking them off. The heel of his shoes clicked multiple times against the floor, Vox was completely incapable of sitting still. At one point he even got up, walking around your apartment.

“Doc? Where’s your bathroom?”

“Back near the entrance Dove. To your right.”

“Thank you.” He disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You could hear the faucet running shortly after. While he took care of his business you finished your tea and washed the dishes. He was already out by the time you put the kettle in the sink.

“So, do you have anything for me to sleep in?”

“Mmm, I have a shirt of my exes if that works that should fit you. But I don’t have any bottoms. You’ll be fine in your underwear won’t you?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I’m fine to sleep naked. As long as that shirt doesn’t have you know whose face on it.”

“Of course not Dove, I would not tolerate merchandise of anyone who believes technology should have stopped in the thirties. That goes against everything I believe in.” You flippantly waved your hand as if you could hardly entertain the idea. To your surprise, Vox’s screen illuminated with light, with a big genuine toothy smile on his face.

“I changed my mind, I might be able to make an exception for you.”

“Of course Vox, it was only a matter of time before you saw my charm! Now… come on.”

Even if you were a Doctor who didn’t need a man or woman, you loved having a large bed to lounge in taking up nearly your entire room. You had your knick-knacks and other decorative items. A bookshelf of medical textbooks lined against the back of the bed for those late nights reading. Laundry piled up a little higher than you would have liked when you were bringing a boy over. A disturbing little skeleton you named Mr. Bones sitting on your computer desk. Diagrams and telltale signs of countless nights hunched over a desk. Signs of the passion of whatever gripped your mind and forced quill to meet paper.

Vox was obvious in the way he took in the various objects in your bedroom. His interest in getting to know you seemed genuine. You fished out the old shirt from your ex, which was a harmless plain white buccaneer shirt. You could see the confusion on his face when he was handed it, but you said nothing.

You grabbed your pajamas and disappeared into the master bathroom to change. Leaving Vox the whole bedroom to change. When you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror, you could spy a faint color present on your cheeks. Sure, maybe you could act cool and confident. But the truth was, you did like this man. Otherwise, why else would you go to all this trouble for him?

All your feigned confidence but you took care that your hair looked nice when you brushed it. You picked out your favorite pair of pajamas. You brushed your teeth and put on only a little spritz of perfume, as your heart beat with anticipation and hope.

Vox was already laid out on top of the bed, waiting for you. His monitor raised to look at you when you opened the door, propping his body halfway up with his elbows. “Huh, you did simply change into your pajamas. Was half expecting you to change your mind and pick out something sexy.”

“We can save that for after you’ve taken me to dinner, Dove.” A laughter followed after your statement, a friendly one. You stepped over to your nightstand to hit the switch next to a strange black and white orb. Vox did arch a brow, but his gentle smile remained.

“I’ll think about it.” The overlord fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. That was perfect timing!

After you hit the light switch, the room was submerged in darkness. The purpose of the strange device on your nightstand became obvious when Vox spied the star system being projected over the ceiling. Creating a fabrication of the starry night sky that had been robbed from the two of you when death came. Vox’s right claw stretched out, reaching his hand out as if he could grasp the slowly rotating stars. The illumination of his screen slowly died until it became a dim pale blue light.

You crawled into bed opposite of him. Laying on your side with your arm tucked under the pillow to act as extra leverage while you watch the man beside you enjoy the sight above.

“You REALLY are a romantic. I’m expecting roses when you take me to dinner.” Vox joked.

“I’ll consider it. So, what makes you say that?”

“I may have had my hints when you told me you wanted to wait for sex. And oh I don’t know, The night light and nickname? You are aware of what Dove means right?”

Vox rolled onto his side, using the pillow as a gentle cushion for his screen. Normally looking right into a bright blue light wasn’t the best idea when you were trying to sleep. But the sight of that gentle smile on his face felt like it was going to lead you to some nice dreams. “Of course I do. And you were intentionally staying up late so I’d come and see you. I think you’re secretly a romantic too, Vox.”

The familiar blue flush dazzled his screen, something even pulling the blanket over to try and hide it couldn’t help with. The way his face glowed made the proof even more apparent when he only tried to mask it in darkness. “Nonsense. I’m just a machine.”

The statement came out in a half-whisper. By the way, his eyes widened at that moment, you suspected he had not meant to be that honest. A scowl took the place of his smile, and he fell back onto his back to hide his face from you. You didn’t let him run. You pushed yourself up and sat beside him, staring down at the screen that tried its best to watch the wavering astral movements above.

“You’re not a machine, Dove. And I would know that more than anyone, save yourself. Machines aren’t lonely for one.”

“I’m not lonely...” Vox bitterly retorted.

You stretched your hands out for his screen. He leaned back into the pillow, setting his cyan irises on you immediately. With your fingertips only inches apart, you met those eyes without moving an inch more.

“Do you not want me to touch you?”

“What good is touching me there? I can’t even feel it, you know.”

“Because it always makes me happy when somebody simply touches me without expectation of sex. Makes me feel beautiful.”

A complicated expression flashed over the screen. Alternating between vulnerability, a scowl, the widened sclera, and at last acceptance. His hand laid over yours and guided it to brush and trace over the hard plastic that housed his screen. The cool hand lingered on top of your palm, guiding your hand up toward where his prongs stuck out on top of his head. Following his lead your fingertips brushed along the metal prongs, then circled the receivers on the top.

“Maybe… I’m a little lonely.” He begrudgingly confessed.

Something cold suddenly brushed against your cheek, intense thanks to the heat that made a home there. The back of Vox’s claws brushed over your face, and you leaned into it. His palm filled the swell of your cheek, the harsh points nestled into the hair to cushion their prick. The thumb stretched out to tap your bottom lip, tracing the shape.

Slowly the two dark silhouettes you both cast on the wall came together melting into one. Vox guided you forward as his own body bent forward to meet you halfway. Shortly after you closed your eyes, the gentle sensation of his lips finally met yours. The edged fingers slid along the nape of your neck, sending chills down your spine while he held you. Entangling his fingers within your hair to hold you in place. Chaste and sweet, it was only a light brushing as he whispered to you.

“Your right doc… this is nice. I want to touch you more, may I?” Each little new syllable brought that ticklish feeling back, tingling with the natural static on his face. You sealed your lips against him, drinking deep from what he’d been teasing you with all this time.

“As long as the clothes stay on Dove.”

“Of course. This is nice… I don’t want it to end.” The confession came with the feel of his palm now brushing over your shoulder. Tracing down your arm until his fingers circled the wrist that had kept you supported all this time. He tugged you forward until your body fell on top of his. It was harder than the average man’s body and less cushy. The heat of your body was sapped even through the two layers of clothing, but it only gave him an excuse to wrap that blanket around the two of you.

You righted yourself until you laid flat across his body, with his arms coming around to circle your back. You buried your head into his chest, taking in his scent, wrapping your arms around his torso as you surrendered to his touch. The pointed end of one claw ran up and down your back, sending shivers down your body each time it came to meet the nape of your neck. It wasn’t a sexually thrilling sensation, but it was pleasant enough to eke out a moan. Instead of excitement, the man underneath you chuckled. Vox ran his claws through your hair instead, scratching your scalp.

“Why don’t you like to be called Darling?” You dared the question, feeling closer than ever now that the two of you were touching. The sound of his artificial heart beating against his chest and into your ear felt nothing like the machine he purported himself as. Nor was the careful way he touched you. You could feel its absence far more when his hands froze. You dared to look up, and you could see the heartbreak reflected in his eyes alone.

“It reminds me of somebody else, a man I’d rather not think of when I’m with you Doc.”

“I’d never want you to look like that when you think of me… so I will endeavor to be nothing like him, Dove.”

Vox smiled, curling a claw around a lock of your hair to brush out of your face. “And even if you are broken, I will make you feel whole one day Doc.”

Now that was unfair. How dare the vulnerability you share with him be used against you! You fought back the emotions that welled up, the brush of his hands bringing you back down against his chest made you feel like it’d be alright.

“We should get some sleep. But I want to keep holding you if that’s O.K.”

You leaned forward, kissing him goodnight. Vox kept you there for a moment longer, squeezing your shoulder. The other hand pressed against the arch of your back to press your body against his. Each little brush of those lips against yours felt addicting. Making you want to keep diving in back for more. Sometimes it was crooked, other times he’d steal your breath and keep you there. It was only the need for air that forced you two to part. A flushed face stared back at you with the beautiful nebula of freckles returned in full force.

You didn’t want to part, much as the sirens call for sleep called for you. You pressed your fingertips against his screen right beneath his eyes. Tracing each little freckle to make constellations with them. Vox closed his eyes, accepting your touch this time. The gentle wavering of his cyan irises watching you stole your breath. If only you could stay up all night and kiss each little star on his face.

But all good things had to come to an end. Vox pressed against your shoulders to force you to lie down. His own body came hovering over yours for a brief few beautiful moments, the starry sky above him framing behind him.

“You’re blushing so hard right now, Doc.”

A squeak escaped you, pressing a hand against your now hot cheeks. Gentle laughter broke out from the man above.

“You’re so cute… I can’t wait to see how red you get when I bed you for real.” The whisper of that promise came with a claw tracing along your jawline.

“When…? You sound so certain.” The blood rushing to your head made it hard to come up with a snappier comeback than that.

“Because I have already decided. I intend to win you over with everything I have. Goodnight, Doc.”

He fell back back onto the bed, lying on his side. Immediately wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer until your back was held flush against his front. Vox locked you tight so you couldn’t escape, the warm screen pressed into the back of your head.

“Goodnight Vox...”

Cursed with those beautiful thoughts Vox put in your head, your cheeks burned. The bittersweet pain in your heart gave you such contentment you were quickly pulled down past the point of no return. The gentle whir of Vox’s white noise banished the chaos of hell, pulling you into a world where only the two of you existed.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Next chapter

a/n look I am wine drunk and I have thoughts. 🤷‍♀️

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was silly truly. You weren’t big fan of parties. You didn’t ever go out really. In the beginning, it was because people didn’t invite you anywhere. You weren’t the cool kid and nerds, well, they aren’t loved all that much through high school. Then you simply outgrow that phase. Life and real responsibilities caught up with you and now you would rather spend your time at home, curled up with a book than drag yourself home from god knows what parts of the city at odd hours.

But this Friday was different. Your friend and her partner were hosting a shared birthday party. And while you could have excused yourself if it was only her boyfriend's party now that she was also celebrating hers, it meant that you didn’t have it in yourself to lie through gritted teeth. So that’s how you found yourself a homemade pie in hand, flowers beneath your armpit as you waited for someone to open the door.

“Y/n”, a loud squeak made a smile break out on your face, “And with your infamous pie. Matt, she brought the pie I told you about”, Emmy turned back, yelling over the corridor. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it”, she clasped your upper arm in excitement, “It’s just been me and the guys, need to balance it out, you know”, she chuckled, ushering you inside.

“Everyone this is Y/n, the best friend!”, Emmy skipped into the kitchen, gesturing to you as if you were the prized possession that had to be shown off. You felt your face heating up immediately. You hated being put in a spotlight like that, yet you managed to give an awkward wave. Trying to listen in to all the names shouted around the room. Letting your eyes fall from face to face carelessly. The chances of meeting these people…

Your gaze halted as you did a double take. Bringing your gaze back to those warm chocolate orbs that looked directly at you. It seemed as if everyone had moved on. Bickering about toppings for pizza. But it’s as if you two had been glued, nether managing to look away. “Matt, the boyfriend”, you blinked a couple of times turning your attention to the side. “So the friend finally meets the infamous man”, you chuckled under your breath, leaning into the side hug he was offering. “She talks loads of you, shame I’m only meeting you now”, Matt smiled at you and you quickly returned the gesture, “Trust me, I know awfully a lot about you too”. “Should I be worried?”, he chuckled, eyes falling on Emmy, fighting her way over cheese by the counter. “No, it’s mostly good stuff”, you shrugged, as you both chuckled to yourselves.

While the evening was fun the more the time passed the more the house turned into a frat party. You glanced at your phone for what felt like a thousand times. The location of your apartment was typed into the Uber app almost an hour ago, making you feel like a shit friend since for the most part all you had been thinking about was going home. That and the brown eyes that had followed you through the night.

“Wine?”, you flinched slightly, locking your phone. “Or are you already going somewhere else?”, startled you turned to the voice behind you, ready to give your best excuse only to feel them all die down at the sight of the same brown eyes. You simply turned your glass towards him, while trying to come up with anything proper to say.

“I’m Noah by the way”, he mused tilting the bottle to fill up your glass once more. “Yn”, you muttered. “Oh, I remember”, he smiled up at you, making your cheeks turn crimson even more. “Sorry, just so many people and faces, I’m awful with names”, you whined giving him an apologetic smile. Noah simply shook his head, “Trust me, it’s almost refreshing”. You let his words wash over you as you both fall into silence once more.

“So… Where were you planning to run off to and can I join?”, Noah’s words took by surprise as you turned to him once more. A light chuckle slipped past your lips, “I was planning on going home”, you admitted with a little shrug. “Matt’s cooking not to your liking?”, his words instantly sent panic running through your veins. “Oh, no, no, it was so good. Emmy talks about his food so much and…”, you instantly felt like defending yourself, “Hey, I’m only joking”, Noah cut in, “I didn’t… Shit did I just get you all worked up over that?”, he ran a hand over his mouth looking at you.

You started at one another for a while before both falling into fits of laughter. “Sorry, shit, it’s been a while”, Noah shook his head. “No, it’s fine, I’m too introverted for this”, you brushed him off, reaching for your glass. “Can I be honest?”, Noah asked, stepping closer so he could stand beside you. You simply nodded, watching him take a sip out of the bottle. “I haven’t been able to look away from you”, he admitted, “Sounds so fucking childish but… There’s something about you”, Noah mussed turning to look at you once again. “Maybe it’s the wine?”, you shrugged, trying to not let his words make your heartbeat pick up. “I was dead ass sober when I first saw you, sweetheart”, he muttered, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you tried to keep that smile at bay. His fingers carefully caressed your jaw before brushing over the bottom of your lip. “You would never like me sober”, you mussed pulling back. “And how would you know that?”, he pushed on, determined to keep you close. “I’m nothing like Emmy”, you pointed out, glancing back towards the kitchen where people were dancing around the counter. “Who said that I like girls like Emmy?”, Noah’s words made a shiver run down your back. “Guys always choose girls like her over girls like me”, you chuckled, taking an eager gulp of the wine in your glass. The last thing you needed was to unload years of insecurities onto a stranger.

“Funny, girls only started looking at me now, I was never the first choice”, Noah shrugged making you glance back at him. “Yeah, right”, you snorted, not able to imagine a universe where someone would pass an opportunity to date someone like him. “A strange nerd with a lisp doesn’t rank highly, darling”, he grunted making you frown, “Don’t say that about yourself”, you argued back. “Ah… But you can put yourself down?”, he smirked back at you with that knowing grin.

“Fine, we both are weird. Happy now?”, you shook your head. “Would be happier if you would go on a date with me”, Noah’s words sent another cold shower down your back. You watched him for a heartbeat. He looked like a lover boy. A black hoodie, sweet eyes. That smile. Only the tattoos covering his hands indicated a more dangerous side of him. The side you had a feeling would pull you under. “Very funny, but I’m not falling for this”, you shot him a tight smile, reminding yourself that there wasn’t a universe where a guy like him would fall for a girl like you. “You don’t know me, yet you are putting labels on me”, his hand wrapped around your upper arm as he made you halt in your tracks, “you wound me, sweetheart”, Noah muttered, leaning in.

“And who’s worried about how much you will wound me?”, your words seemed to sober him up in an instant. A frown replaced a smile that was previously there. “Why would I…”, he breathed out. “Thank you for the wine”, you lift your glass slightly towards him, “And for the chat. Tell Matt he’s a wonderful cook”, you cheered him, clicking your glass with the bottle in his hand before turning away from him. Heart beating so fast in your chest, it was making you dizzy.

“Hold on, YN”, you heard his voice as you moved across the room, avoiding contact with people. Quickly lowering your glass onto the nearest table before heading towards the door. You couldn’t look back even if everything in your body screamed for you to. Noah’s voice hunted you till you slipped outside, hurrying towards the gate, hands quickly looking for the first possible Uber.

[drefear]

Sister's Mister

Summary: You and your sister are having issues now that Miguel and her are official. Your friends have some opinions, and things finally get heated.

TW: smut, masturbation, drinking, arguing, family issues, pining.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

The world was painful, too bright for your eyes and your heavy hangover. Everything felt achy and your body was like lead. Soft breathing could be heard from the corner of your room and as you looked up, you saw Gianna sleeping in your little lounge chair. You began to nod out of it again when her eyes opened and she moved to sit on the bed with you. She held your hand and smiled. 

“Went too hard last night, right?” She laid her head in your lap and you nodded, barely having the energy to speak. “That’s so unlike you.” 

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” You drawled on, moving the blanket to cover her as well and sleep in the same bed, something you two did often in highschool. Gianna was like having an annoying best friend around 24/7. 

Once you woke up again, Gianna was gone and you were alone in the darkness of your room, your sister having pulled your blinds down to help you sleep off the hangover. Getting up, you blinked and grabbed your doorknob, needing a bit of balance before you could keep going. Practically waddling to the kitchen on sea legs, you squinted towards the fridge, seeing someone already in it. 

“Dad?” 

“Try again.” The voice gave away who it was and you pouted, agitated that he was the first person you had to see when you woke up. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Gianna had class, so she asked me to stay and look after you.” Miguel closed the fridge and handed you a cold bottle of water. “She loves you a lot.” 

“I love her too.” You answered in a short manner, not wanting to continue to speak to the massive man in your home. 

“Why’d you get drunk?” He asked and you sighed, turning towards the exit. 

“Because I can.” You spoke as if biting him, harsh and intent on being painful to hear. His face scrunched in a way you could only explain as both confused and angry. 

“No one just gets blackout drunk because they can.” He kept pushing, like a child trying to find their parent’s boundaries. 

“Why are you asking? I’m not the sister you chose.” You walked away before he could press on, and you hurried towards your bedroom, closing the door and locking it. You held the water bottle to your forehead, needing some relief and silence as tears pooled in your eyes. You missed the buzz that the alcohol gave you from last night, warmth making you feel light as a feather. Now, you just felt like hot water sloshed back and forth in your body. You laid on your bed once more to try and fight the massive, tequila induced headache. Nothing felt right and you couldn’t put your finger on it. You memory was hazy, bits and pieces of things coming back as if they weren’t even from your eyes. The last thing you remembered was a stranger touching your face before you yakked on Miles’s grass- 

Miles!

You quickly grabbed your phone to see all the phone calls you’d missed. Gwen texted you three times and called three times, Miles called twice and left five texts, and Pav, who you don’t remember giving your number to, called twice. The line rang as you called back Miles and he answered on the second ring. 

“Oh my god, you’re ok!” He spoke and you let out a pent out breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Your sister came in last night like a bat out of hell and was screaming for you, and then I saw that big, mean guy from Alchemax carrying you out and when I tried to ask him what he was doing, he told me to be a criminal with someone else, and I-” 

“He said what?” You began to feel a familiar upset grow in your chest as you heard Miles. 

“Who gives a shit? I just wanted to make sure he didn’t, like, kidnap you and sell you to El Chapo or something!” You laughed at his dramatic jokes. You loved Miles like a brother, someone who’d been there when you needed him most and vice versa. 

“No, I’m fine. That’s my sister’s new boyfriend.” You heard quiet on the other line. “Hello?”

“She’s dating that guy? Miguel, right? Didn’t he fuck around with Mrs. Olsen?” He asked and you twirled a piece of your hair in your fingers. 

“Don’t know, don’t care. All I know is he’s got my sister in some fantasy land and I have to listen to the stupid details. ‘Miguel this’ and ‘Miguel that,’ she won’t stop talking about him and-” 

“You like him, don’t you?” Miles asked and you practically choked on the sudden gasp of oxygen you took in, coughing a bit. “Sorry, sorry! Just… sounds like you have something else going on when it comes to him. Is this the guy you used to talk about liking in your chem classes?” 

You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to. Tears broke through your ducts and dribbled down your cheeks as you realized how you felt. 

“Miles, it fucking sucks so badly.” You whispered, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “It’s my sister’s boyfriend, ya know? How am I supposed to act?” You asked desperately, needing him input. 

“You don’t. You gotta forget it, he’s off limits now. Plus, if he’s as terrible as he seems, you don’t want him in your life anyway.” Miles went on and you knew it was true, but a knock at your door made you almost nervous. “Miles, I gotta go. I’ll text you later.” 

“Yeah, come over later and we can go in the pool. You can clean up all the throw up you left outside.” He laughed as you practically shrank into your blankets, embarrassment turning your cheeks pink. Hanging up, you got up and went to your door to see Miguel standing too tall in the doorframe. 

“Why don’t you know how to act in front of me?” Miguel asked, and your heart stopped. He heard you.

“That was a private conversation. Now, you can tell my sister I’m fine and get the fuck out of my house.” You slammed the door in his face once you were done speaking to him, waiting to make sure he left. After a long few seconds, you heard his hefty footsteps retreat and the front door close. Today was too much. 

You left for Miles’s house later that afternoon, getting there to see your sister’s car outside. Great. You slightly dreaded how intertwined your friend group was getting, all because of Miguel. Another reason to absolutely despise him. You wished you could.

You had on your purple swimsuit, something unique and new that you were excited to wear. Miles had said that he was inviting a few extra friends, and you were hoping one of them was cute, so you had pulled this one out to don in case your hopes came true. Now you had even more reason to push out your chest and be cute, to prove to Miguel that the conversation he heard was actually nothing. He was your sister’s boyfriend, just your sister’s boyfriend. Not the man you pine for in the dark of your room at night, not the name you have to bite your lip not to moan while your fingers circled your clit. 

Walking through his gate to his backyard, you waved at Gwen and MIles, then Hobie and Pav, and Peter. There were a few other faces you didn’t recognize and then there was Miguel and your sister, making out in the pool and looking like the beginning of an amateur porn video. You cringed as you turned away from them, trying not to gawk at their gross display of affection, but you couldn’t blame her. If you were in Gianna’s position, you’d fuck him everywhere you went just to show other women that he was yours and yours alone. 

You shook that thought from your head and tried to listen to what Gwen was saying. 

An hour later, Gwen introduced you to someone named Ben. he was tall, built nice, and seemed to be quite cocky, but you just needed a distraction. The two of you flirted back and forth on the pool ledge as you moved a hand to your waist, pulling you into the water and playfully splashing you. Continuing to soak each other, you felt a presence behind you and suddenly, you were thrown across the pool. Sputtering up to the surface, you looked around and found Miguel smirking, arms folded with a confident roll of his shoulders. 

“What the fuck, Miguel?” You yelled and he just laughed. 

“I wanted to play.” 

“You weren’t invited!” You barked and he rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, I just wanted that constant screaming to end. It was annoying.” 

“Then maybe use your words, you barbarian.” 

“Oh, ouch! So hurtful, did you learn that word in the library you lock yourself inside of every night?” 

“Are you really making fun of me for being smart?” You didn't realize you were walking closer to him until you were a foot away, and he finally stepped closer to look down at you, making you crane your neck up as he spoke. 

“No, I’m saying you’re a loser.” He narrowed his eyes and you couldn’t find the words to answer, hurt pooling in your stomach. You didn’t even realize everyone had started to watch you two arguing until you both stood in silence and felt everyone else’s eyes on you. 

“I’d rather be a loser than a whorish prick.” You spoke with sharp words and checked his shoulder as you walked past him, flipping your now soaking wet and messy hair out of your face and stomping to your towel. Your sister moved to grab your arm, but you jerked away from her. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You screamed and saw hurt flash across her face, but you couldn’t see through the seething rage that MIguel had begun to boil inside of you. “You did this, you brought him into my life. As long as you two are together, stay away from me!” You hurried inside of the house and into the bathroom, hearing someone follow you and slamming the door in their face. You sat on the edge of the bathtub and cried. All of the frustration and upset from the past few weeks poured out as you shivered from the AC blowing directly on your wet form, overwhelmed and afraid. 

Meanwhile, the pool area was quiet as Gianna was frozen in place, then looking at Miguel. She got an angry look on her face as he got out of the pool, starting to feel bad. Had he caused a rift between you two? He held his hands up, “Baby, I’m sorry-” 

“Fix this! Now!” Gianna pointed inside and he nodded, just following orders. 

The truth was he didn’t know why you bothered him so much, you just did. Everything about you caused him to be annoyed, and caused a stir in his pants. 

He liked your sister, she was pretty and funny and nice. She was easy. He didn’t mind, he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend either. He didn’t like the feeling that much, it seemed too much of a hassle. 

A few months ago, he’d seen you in his class wearing just a t-shirt and jean shorts, but your soft thighs made his mind go to new places. He’d always chased his own pleasure, not caring much for making the girl’s he bedded orgasm. They always did, but that wasn’t his goal. He just needed to ‘get his and get gone,’ as Ben once said to him. 

Then he saw you, and his first thought was how those thighs would feel on his shoulders, how you’d taste on his tongue with your hands in his hair as you screamed his name. He kept oral sex for relationships, but god he wanted to eat you out so badly, it was driving him mad. 

And then he saw your tits in that low cut top you wore when it started to get warm out, and he lost it. 

He always thought about you as he fucked other girls, railing them from behind and tilting his head back to pretend he was inside of you. He didn’t even know your first name, which was fine by him, and he had planned to keep this going until he met your sister, Gianna. She looked similar to you and that made him satisfied. 

And then he found out she was your sister, and he became hungrier. Being in your house, seeing your family, knew he’d fucked up when he saw you at the club. You were dancing with Hobie and he was feeling up Gianna, but he couldn’t stop sneaking looks at you. The way you swayed your hips, how you held Hobie, how the dress was tight around your chest. He was ging insane and that’s when your sister brought him over to introduce you two. He heard your name and it was like butter on his tongue, smooth and rich. He was hungry for you and the small tastes weren’t enough anymore. 

Dinner at your house was practically painful. He was trying so hard to drown you out of his mind with your sister, wanting nothing more than to have her be what flooded his brain instead. Her hand on his thigh was the only reason he even remembered she was in the room while he watched you eat. 

Arguing with you about Miles fucking Morales got him almost rock hard in his pants, watching you bitch at him, showing him something he’d never seen from you: anger. He saw you shy and awkward, saw you focused in class, but now he saw you spitting words of upset at him and the passion that filled your eyes as you sneered. God, you were like a drug. 

You laid passed out on the grass of Miles’s backyard and he just watched your form for a minute, the rise and fall of your busty chest in that tight top you had on, you were mesmerizing. He made his way to you and bent down. 

“Get up.” 

“Lay down with me.” Those words went straight to his cock, wanting to hear them come out of your mouth in a much different scenario. “Look at the sky.” 

“Your eyes are closed.” He answered, and you hypnotized him with that sweet little laugh. 

“The stars are beautiful.” He couldn't help it, his body moved on its own. He nuzzled your face in his hand, your soft skin feeling like heaven against the callus of his fingers. 

“So are you.” He whispered and sadness filled his chest. He’d made the mistake of entertaining your sister, and now he could never have you. You began tossing up your dinner and your sister came just in time as he waited until you were done, then moving your passed out form into his arms and carrying you out of the house. As he stepped to his car, your sister got into the backseat to hold onto you, but he heard someone shouting. 

“Hey!” It was that Miles kid he couldn’t stand. 

“What?” He asked, moving his arms to tilt your head upward instead of leaned over his arm. 

“She’s not ok, you can’t take her-” 

Miguel was about to bark back, to protect you with every fiber of your being against this stupid law-breaking twerp, but your sister jumped in and started talking to Miles, in which he calmed down. A frown just sat on Miguel’s face, bending to lay you in the car and not saying another word. 

The next day, your sister had left Miguel at the house with you to make sure you were ok while she was gone. Well, he actually volunteered. Which wasn’t weird at all. 

And then there was the phone call her overheard. 

“Miles, it fucking sucks so badly.” You whispered, making Miguel’s heart want to do jumping jacks. “It’s my sister’s boyfriend, ya know? How am I supposed to act?”

This made him almost happy, but conflict began in his head. This was so wrong, so so wrong. 

But then there was the pool, and that gorgeous little bikini you had on, and how you acted with Ben. Fucking Ben. First Miles, then Ben? Were you trying to pick the worst possible choices in men? 

He meant to be playful, just to see that angry spark in your eyes again, but then you both started saying things that couldn’t be taken back. 

“No, I’m saying you’re a loser.” The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them and suddenly, the world was quiet. Everyone stared at you two and you frantically glanced around with humiliation, but he only watched you. 

“I’d rather be a loser than a whorish prick.” You spat back at him and he stood still, unsure of how to go about everything that had just happened, unsure of how to fix things. 

You and Gianna had harsh words as you ran into Miles’s house crying, and Miguel felt everyone glaring at him, but he couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else. Gianna yelled at Miguel and that’s when he followed you, seeing you run into the bathroom and shut the door. He heard a small thud and knew you were leaning against it, knocking gently. 

“Leave me alone, Gianna.” You sniffled and Miguel sighed. 

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry-” He started to apologize and the door flew open, your crying face scrunched up at him with a fury he honestly hadn’t seen in anyone but himself. 

“You’re sorry?” Your tone mocked him and he clenched his jaw, nodding. “What are you sorry for? Calling me a loser? Embarrassing me in front of my friends and family? Driving me insane in my own home? Which one?” 

“I didn’t-” He huffed. Miguel wasn’t good with talking about his emotions, and as he heard the laughter from the backyard, he pushed you forward into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

“I’m sorry for it all, but it’s your fault too!” 

“What?!” You whisper-yelled and he rolled his eyes, leaning on his shoulder against the wall. 

“Oh, c'mon. You know you’ve been driving me crazy.” He sneered and you glared up at him. 

“I have not-” You stopped short and thought about his words. “How?” You tilted your head to the side. 

“You’re just- you’re so fucking- perfect!” He shouted and put a hand on the wall above your head, bending down to get closer to your face. His eyes burned into yours as he studied your expression. “You’re all I think about.”

“This is wrong…” You breathed out and felt his breath tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering a bit and nose almost touching his. 

“Stop me then.” He whispered and you bit your lip, a constricting feeling in your chest tying itself around your lungs and making you shiver. “Tell me you don’t want this.” He moved his hands to knead the squish of your hips, water dripping down your legs from the still wet bathing suit on your body. 

“Miguel…” Your voice was shaky as he inhaled your scent, moved the tangled mess of damp hair from your shoulder. Loud knocking made you both jump a bit, his hands pulling you closer as his head snapped to the door. He grabbed the doorknob to make sure whoever it was didn’t try to open it, or succeed. Your name rang out in your sister’s voice and your legs wobbled. 

You were in here, being felt up by her boyfriend right after you’d screamed in her face, and she was looking to comfort you still. 

Tears filled your eyes again and the door knob jiggled, Miguel’s hand making sure it didn’t open. Your heart thudded in your chest when she repeated your name, and you tried to clear your throat. 

“G-Go away!” You shouted, trying to still sound upset. Miguel’s other hand stayed on your hip, as if he couldn’t take it off of his own free will. 

“Please, can we just talk? Let me in.” She begged and you broke into tears finally. 

“I said go the hell away!” You screamed, leaning your head into Miguel’s chest and trembling against his large body as he finally let go of your hip and pet your head. 

“I love you, I’m gonna go look for Miguel, ok?” She spoke softly and that made your body heat rise once more. 

“Miguel? You’re going to look for Miguel? Yeah, go fucking chase your boyfriend, go find him, Gianna!” You shouted, Miguel now holding you back with his one arm, pulling you closer to his body to try and calm you down, but you pushed him away and fully faced the door now. “Go fucking find him and tell him that you forgive him and then fuck him and text me about it after! Go, Gianna!” You hit the door with a fist, angry sobs on your lips as everything was quiet. After a second or two, you heard her footsteps walking away from the door. You panted and hung your head. 

“Are you ok?” Miguel’s low voice rubbed your ears in a way that you couldn’t explain. You just shook your head and he released the knob, then cradling you in his arms and holding you tight. “I’ll fix this, I promise.” He whispered, then opened the door and walked out.

Tags: @ihateuguys @spontaneousleo @ginger23 @y2cade @alex110370000 @winteringfalls @neverlandlostchild @haileycannotcometothephonern @loser-alert @idk-sam @bunnyrose01 @minalovesyoubabes @thedevax @arquiiva @freehentai @vonev @rue-ting @darkfairy102190 @iamv1n @teresalesbian @killykstudio @topreice @artyanimi @hrlzy @mikotoguilty @ceoofmiguel @amylasagna

[rems-writing]

Acknowledge me

》 Pairing: dancer!San x rival!reader

》 Trope: enemies to lovers

》 Wordcount: 4,381 words

》 Rating: pg-13

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

“I’m telling you right now! There’s something about him that's so suspicious!” 

All your friends groaned in frustration as you kept complaining and talking shit about the new student that was in your dance class. At first, they joked along with you. However, they grew curious as to who this new kid was. One by one, they actually went up to him, talked with him, and got to know him a little better. 

Now they couldn’t stand the nasty words you would spit out. 

“Oh come on, girls! Don’t be like that! It was technically your fault to get involved with someone like him! He probably used his good looks or that stupid bodybuilder frame of his to ensnare you in his trap!”

“Y/N, please -”

“Whatever! I’m going to stretch. Don’t dilly dally now~”

As you walked off, some of your friends aimlessly followed you while the others looked towards his way and mouthed apologies to the new kid. Per usual, he smiled kindly at them and told them that it was ok in the most gentle voice possible. Their hearts ached upon seeing the sight. When the dance teacher came in, everyone got into their assigned spots. You rolled your eyes at the way the teacher greeted the new kid first before addressing everyone else. You used to be the favorite student.

Now it was all about him. 

Choi San this. Choi San that. Choi San everywhere. 

Choi motherfucking San!

You were baffled with the way he suddenly strolled in, greeted everyone, including you, with a warm smile and positive affirmations. Everytime he approached you, you would always make sure to give him the cold shoulder or short and dry answers in hopes that he would get the hint. When that didn’t work, you would openly talk shit about him. There have been times where his smile would falter and he’d grow tense around you, leaving you to be successful. But a few seconds later, that stupid smile would return and he’d pat your shoulder before saying something that infuriated you a lot. 

“I forgive you for your harsh words by the way. You must’ve had a bad day. I hope I can make it better! For now, I’m just glad you acknowledged me.”

That pissed you off to the maximum. And your friends never understood why you hated it. 

Today was no different. The dance instructor gave you the agenda for today and everyone took note of it mentally, including San. You resisted the urge to scoff as he kept nodding his stupid head in confirmation, indicating that he was listening intently and carefully. Then, the instructor surprised you. The surprise quickly turned into sadness and anger. 

“You guys will be paired up. I have the roster right here.”

As the instructor went down the list, you grew saddened that your friends were paired with one another. Then the anger sets in when you hear who you will be paired up with. 

“Y/N and Choi San.”

Hushed murmurs spread throughout the studio and your friends looked over at the both of you in concern. The concern turned into dread when you stood up and marched over to the dance instructor.

“Why him?! Anyone but him! I’m literally so much better than him! He probably doesn’t know how to balance himself with the way he’s built! He probably has two left feet! This has got to be a joke!”

Your friends, along with the rest of the class, internally winced, when the dance instructor narrowed his eyes at you angrily while San stood in the distance with a deflated stance and his head hung low. 

“You two are actually on the same level based on your skillset. And I am not doing this out of spite. I knew what I was doing when I paired you guys up. If you want to complain, you can take the fail score. But I have to warn you. It’ll tank your grade to the point where you might not pass. Do you seriously want to risk that in order to keep up your petty hatred for someone that’s clearly undeserving of it?”

“But he does deserve it -”

A heavy hand slams the clipboard onto the table behind the instructor and everyone flinches at the sound. Your confidence wavered when the instructor hovered over you with his tall stature. 

“Either you settle this feud or you never come back to this studio. I’m getting sick and tired of you constantly belittling him. What has he ever done to you? Hmm? This class is all about adaptation and teamwork. How has that become so difficult for you to process?”

You tried to give a reason yet no words came out. If you did have words, they were stuck in your throat. San saw you cowering under the instructor’s gaze and he felt bad for witnessing this. He walked up to the instructor and chuckled awkwardly as he stepped in between you two. 

“Professor Jeong, I’m sure we can work together smoothly! Perhaps we can just get to know each other a little bit before we do the actual partner assignment. I already have the song and actual choreo lined up and they both cater to her taste. So don’t you worry! We got this!”

Truth be told, San didn’t actually choose a song or make the actual choreo in his head. He only said that since it hurt him seeing you stand so cowardly under the instructor’s intense gaze. Professor Jeong took one look at San and sighed deeply before nodding in approval. 

“Seems to me like you have a set plan already. Ok. I’ll allow it.”

San sighed in relief while professor Jeong looked towards the rest of the class.

“Class is dismissed. The next time we meet up, you’ll just be focusing on the partner assignments until the tentative date. I have yet to choose it so be prepared when the time comes.”

Everyone nodded in agreement before proceeding to pack their things and leaving the intense and awkward atmosphere of the dance studio as fast as they could. Professor Jeong saw your deflated form zipping up your duffel bag and sighed quietly as he approached you.  

“Y/N, listen -”

“Go away, dad! Talk to your new son or whatever. I’m not going home tonight. I’m sleeping over at uncle Yeosang’s apartment. Don’t even bother texting me!”

Ouch

San winced internally as you picked up your duffel bag and left the studio quickly. Professor Jeong sighed shakily and placed his head in his hands. He suddenly felt guilty for coming in between the relationship between a father and daughter. He walked over to the instructor and sat next to him on the bench. 

“Is everything ok, Yunho?”

“Hmm? Yeah it is. She’s just being stubborn. She’ll come around. Don’t worry.”

San shook his head rapidly as Yunho answered quickly yet dejectedly. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin your relationship with her.”

“No,  you didn’t. If anything, it’s my fault. I already put so much pressure on her and now this happened. Maybe I should’ve put her as a solo exception.”

“But wouldn’t that create more pressure for her?”

A quiet grunt escaped Yunho’s throat and San sighed quietly. He patted Yunho’s shoulder and the kind smile returned to his face. 

“I promise to make sure that she passes. I’ll let her take control of everything. I won’t let you down!”

Yunho chuckled quietly at San’s determination and nodded slowly. 

“Thank you, San.”

---------------------------------------------------

San checked the time. You weren’t here yet. Class already started even though most of the time was used to focus on the partner assignment. As he looked around at everyone else, he felt his spirit dampen a bit. You were never late for class. In fact, you would either be the first one to show up or you’d enter the studio on time. Your friends felt bad and decided to keep him company while he waited for you still. After another hour passed, you finally showed up. San saw you and smiled brightly before waving towards you. You rolled your eyes and scowled as you sluggishly approached him. You sat down and pulled your hood over your head to cover up the messy bedhead you were sporting. Your friends dispersed quickly and you tried so hard not to grow angry at their quick departure. 

Their fault for not seeing your vision and understanding you. 

“Come on. Let’s get this over with, Sam.”

“It’s actually San -”

“Did I ask?”

San huffed quietly at your rudeness before nodding and getting up. He offered a hand and you shook your head before getting up after him. 

“Your song choice better be good or else.”

“I’ve got you covered.”

You cringed at the way he sounded so chipper and resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. San took out his phone and played the song he chose. Much to your surprise, you liked it. One nod of approval from you and San’s spirits were lifted. 

“Ok. The song is actually pretty good. Now what are some ideas for the choreo?”

San had to think fast or else he’d most likely receive more rudeness on your end. Without thinking, he spoke out of his ass and did a random freestyle dance as the song played. He almost stumbled when he looked up to see you observing him with crossed arms and an unreadable expression. After he was done, he stopped to catch his breath. 

“Sorry. I could only come up with something for the main chorus and a partial verse.”

“It’s fine I guess. In fact, I think it’s good you started dancing with the main chorus playing in the background. That way, you already have a set idea on where to go from there. If you start with the verse or the bridge, you basically set yourself up to fail.”

Despite the monotonous tone you used to speak, San took note of everything you said. He nodded and restarted the song so you two could focus on the verses and the bridge. During the time that you two were building the choreo from the ground up, San couldn’t help but be fascinated with the way you spoke and taught the moves. In fact, he got so lost in your words that he didn’t notice you finished speaking until you snapped your fingers in his face. 

“Huh? What?”

“Ugh. Whatever. I’m not too surprised that you gaped at me like a fish with the way you’re just standing there stupidly. I bet you didn’t even listen to what I said.”

He did though. 

The more you spoke in that harsh tone, the more insecure he grew. He was trying so hard to remain patient with you that at this point, he wasn’t sure if he should keep going. He never knew that learning from someone he idolized would be this difficult. In addition, it still broke his heart knowing that you thought he had ulterior motives hidden beneath his kind words and gentleman-like actions. Your intense hatred towards him became overwhelming yet he pushed through. 

“Come on. It’s break time. You can give your pea-sized brain a break.”

Instead of nodding his head enthusiastically, San let out a quiet grunt and brushed past you so he could fetch some water. You were confused since he was usually outgoing yet you thought nothing of it and shrugged before going to a secluded corner and doing whatever you wanted. 

You were so over today. 

---------------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks have passed and you finalized the choreo with San. Now you two were just practicing it so it can be ingrained into muscle memory. For someone with huge muscles, a wide back, and just an overall stature that belonged to a body builder, you were thoroughly impressed with the way San moved fluidly and had the perfect amount of body control throughout the rehearsal. As you sat down against the mirrored wall, you were looking over at San, who sat a respectable distance from you. 

It made your heart clench for some reason. 

In the times that you met up, you would constantly complain about how he was standing or sitting way too close to you unnecessarily straight to his face. You ignored the way San’s smile would fall every time you said that so when he started sitting away from you, you should’ve been happy. 

Why weren’t you happy with that? Instead, why did you grow sadder as the distance increased?

In addition, it weirded you out that he let you take control of everything. For sure you thought that he would take charge and order you around, but clearly, that wasn’t the case at all. He just followed you around, listened to you intently, and took your criticism well. 

Even if it was harsh. 

When your break was finished, you told San to get up so you could rehearse once more. He sprang up from his spot and ran over to you so he could get in position. 

“Five, six, seven, eight.”

You rehearsed your choreo flawlessly. There were no mistakes and you caught yourself looking up at San’s face. His facial expressions matched the song’s lyrics and you were fascinated with the watch he would contort his face to immerse himself in the song. You found it annoying at first and even voiced out that it was definitely too much. However, you took back your words when you realized how useful it is to have such expressions. Once the song was finished, you stayed in your ending positions for a few seconds before you pulled away. 

Or attempted to at least. 

San’s grip on your waist wasn’t too tight, but it was tight enough to keep you in place. You were growing annoyed and you were about to hit his chest and shout out at him to let you go when you froze in your spot. 

San leaned in and kissed you passionately. 

He cradled your face in his hands lovingly and his lips stayed attached to yours. Almost as if he was afraid to let you go if he pulled you away. Your hands grew clammy and you tried to shove him away but to no avail. You definitely didn’t kiss him back. Instead, you just stood still and let him kiss you until he pulled away. He connected his forehead with yours and he was breathing heavily. You caught a glimpse of a tear rolling down his face and you wanted to wipe it away so badly yet your arms remained at your side. When he spoke, it was in the shakiest voice you’ve ever heard from him. And it caused your hatred to wash away. 

“I’m sorry. I had no choice. I just… couldn’t take it anymore. My brain told me to be angry with you. To lose my cool whenever you spoke to me in such a degrading way. However, my heart told me that it would make things worse for us. I don’t know what prompted me to kiss you, but I knew that I needed to jump at this chance before I lost you forever."

“What do you mean…?” You asked him softly despite the confusion in his voice. San laughed humorlessly and looked up at you with more tears pouring from his eyes. 

“I fell in love with you. I idolized you from the very beginning. Whenever I would feel down about losing a taekwondo match or in general, I would always watch your dance videos. I was forced into early retirement from the sport after I tore a muscle in my calf and in my tricep. I had to go through surgery and a lot of physical therapy in order for me to keep functioning. Which explains why I would move stiffly in parts that were supposed to be fluid.”

Oh…

“When I enrolled in this dance class and found out that you were in it. I was excited! But then, that excitement died down as soon as you were rude to me. Every single time you talk down on me, I find myself regretting it.” 

“San…”

“I never meant to take your number one spot. I never meant to become the class favorite. I never meant to steal your friends. But most importantly…”

He kissed both of your cheeks slowly before continuing to speak. 

“I never meant to put a bigger strain on your relationship with your father.” 

Your eyes widened and the weight of the karma you were receiving was coming down on you. 

San letting you take charge was finally making sense. 

All he wanted…

Was to learn from you. 

And you ruined it. 

“San, listen…”

“No no. You don’t have to say anything. It’s my fault for always wanting you to acknowledge me with the same level of respect that I give you all the time. I should’ve known from the beginning that you would hate me, but I guess I was blinded by my excitement and infatuation with you.”

Great. Now you were on the verge of crying. 

“However, this doesn’t change the fact that I learned so much from you. After this partner assignment ends, we can go our separate ways. I won’t bother you anymore. All I ask is that you don’t be rude to anyone else please. I can take the pain. After all, I hate seeing you feel so down.” 

San pulled away fully and you wanted to protest at the loss of the warmth he provided, yet deep down, you didn’t deserve it. You watched him turn around and walk towards the corner where his bag was. Your brain and heart were fighting against each other. 

‘Don’t listen to him. He’s just acting to make you pity him.’

‘Ok but he wouldn’t tell you about his injuries if he wasn’t so humble and kind about everything.’

‘Oh please! He’s probably faking it.’

You couldn’t handle it anymore. You had to do something. As San walked past you, you ran up to him and hugged him from behind. San froze upon feeling your touch and somewhat relaxed into it. He saw your arms wrapped around his tapered waist and covered your hands with his ring-clad one. He felt a wetness on his back from your tears and he heard sniffles. Then, for the first time, he heard your voice. 

Not the abrasive voice mixed with rudeness. 

But a soft and heavily regretful one. 

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, San. In fact, I don’t deserve any of the kindness you have given me. But believe me when I say that I am so utterly sorry for everything I’ve said and done to you out of the rudeness of my heart. You’ve been nothing but completely understanding towards me and your positive words have made a huge impact on me. And what did I do? Continue to be rude.”

San turned you around and looked at you with an unreadable expression. 

“I’m… glad you look up to me. I honestly didn’t expect that from someone like you. I’m sorry for holding such a huge prejudice towards you. You’ve worked hard to prove yourself and… you deserve that spot more than me. I’m betting it wasn’t easy for you. Being in a class full of dancers, knowing that you didn’t dance since the very beginning of your life. You had your own insecurities and I made them worse with my vile and venomous words.”

You looked up at him. 

“I understand if you want to quit. But I beg you. Don’t quit. Please. You have so much potential on the road ahead of you and I want you to discover that potential for yourself. And if you’ll allow me, I would love to teach you more things so you can rise to fame one day. If not, I get it. I’m clearly not the best person to be around so yeah.”

San had enough. 

He wrapped his big strong arms around you and you yelped quietly when he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist so he could have a closer feel of you in this much needed hug. He buried his face in the crook of your neck while you sobbed on his shoulder. 

“Enough. That’s enough. Just… let me hold you please.”

He murmured deeply in your ear, voice thick with emotion and pain as he kissed the side of your head. 

“I forgive you…”

---------------------------------------------------

Today was the day of presentations for your partner assignments. Today was also the first day you felt nervous. After you and San left the studio yesterday, you cried in your room and even had your friends come over so you could apologize to them for mistreating San. You explained that you had a heart-to-heart with San during your rehearsal and that you felt guilty for being a horrible friend. You felt relieved when your friends forgave you and even comforted you when you refused to enter the dance studio. 

You haven’t faced your father since that day he announced that you and San were to be partnered up. 

Your friends reassured you that Yunho would forgive you once he sees how well you work with San. They even tried to encourage you to go first. But the pit in your stomach refused to let you agree with them and they relented. Instead, they continued to comfort you and even cooed at the sight of you going straight into San’s arms once you entered the studio. 

You no longer hated San, but pursuing something romantic with him was way out of the question.

And San understood that. He was content with being friends for now. 

One by one, each pair performed their piece and you applauded each pair. Being the extra person that you were, of course you cheered loudly for your friends when they performed their pieces. San admired your support for your friends and even cheered alongside you. Once they were done, you sprang up from your spot and congratulated them before sitting back down. Yunho announced the final pair to perform. 

You and San. 

The excitement you were feeling turned into dread and you grew anxious. You sat behind San, avoiding your dad’s gaze at all costs. 

You missed the way Yunho’s eyes flashed with pain when he saw you, his own daughter, hide behind San. 

Yunho was glad that you were able to become friendly with San, yet he wanted to cry at the way you wanted to crawl away from him whenever he threw a mere glance at you. San saw this and talked to you in a hushed manner. 

“Hey. You don’t have to face him. Just focus on me and your friends. Ok?”

You looked up at him and meekly nodded. San’s smile reached his eyes (you missed that smile so much), and you followed closely behind him before San nudged you so you could speak about the assignment. 

“Hi. Um… today we will be dancing to Unthinkable by Alicia Keys. I may have tweaked it, but San was the one that came up with the choreo on his own. So uh… I hope you enjoy it.”

You quickly got into your starting position and San mouthed how proud he was of you before the music started. 

Once you were done with the choreo, you and San stayed in your positions for a few more seconds before pulling away from each and bowing to the crowd. Immense cheers and positive shouts echoed throughout the studio. Your friends ran towards you two and gathered you both in a group hug while Yunho stood there with a proud grin on his face. 

“Alright everyone! Class is dismissed. Have a good day!”

Everyone gathered their things while you and San talked amongst your friends on how the choreo was made. The sound of Yunho’s dress shoes walking your way caused everyone to look at him. Your friends slowly backed away since you needed to talk to him. San was the only one that stayed behind. You were visibly shaking as you forced yourself to look up at the taller man. San whispered comforting words in your ear before lacing your fingers with his so he could hold your hand properly. 

“Um… hey, dad. I hoped you liked the performance. As I said, San came up with the choreo. I just tweaked it a bit. I don’t deserve all the credit so you can give him the grade -”

Yunho pulled you away from San and engulfed you in a hug. You felt a wetness on your shoulder and you realized that Yunho was crying. You awkwardly hugged him back, which only prompted him to hold you tighter. 

“I’m so sorry, sunshine. I didn’t mean what I said that day. I just couldn’t stand you being so mean. But I wasn’t any better. You have exceeded my expectations per usual, but that doesn’t make me any less proud of you. Please forgive your old man.” 

Your heart broke even more when Yunho looked at you and cradled your face in his huge hands. You properly hugged him back and sighed quietly. 

“You honestly hurt me that day. But it was deserved. I was malicious. I’m sorry, dad.”

Yunho shook his head and kissed your forehead before looking at you with puppy dog eyes. 

“Please, sunshine. Don’t say that. I know you didn’t mean them. I saw the way you looked at San when you danced together. I’m glad you pushed past your prejudice and became friends with him.” 

San felt his heart swell with adoration as he saw you two make up. He was glad he helped out and he couldn’t be happier. He walked up to you both and cleared his throat. 

“Not to interrupt this tender moment, but Y/N’s friends are waiting for both of us. We’re heading to the local diner to celebrate our success.”

Yunho smiled and chuckled quietly. 

“It’s ok. You two have fun. But no funny business between you two!”

“DAD!”

San laughed heartily before dragging you away so you could meet up with your friends. At the end of the day, he couldn’t help but feel elated when he realized that he won your respect. 

It’s all he ever wanted. 

[lizardboiii]

ANGER MANAGEMENT┃R. Sukuna

[Possessive!Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

・❥・

│Summary: Anger management was by no means your strong suit. No amount of lessons or prayers could change that. In fact, it feels like you’ve been doing a lot worse lately with the appearance of a new neighbor in your next door apartment.

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

・❥・

│cw: 18+, NSFW, violence, vulgar language, terrible humor

│w/c: 3.2k

│chapters: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) (vi) (vii)

│notes: NeighborsAU!, AncestorsAU!

・❥・

│Chapter I : IRATE

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

The pinkette moved to slam his front door shut before you caught the painted wood with your hand. Its pristine white coating had already started to chip away on the side where, like many other nights, you’ve managed to catch the door and pry it open.

You snarled at his annoyed expression, “I’m not finished yet, Pinkiepie lookin’ freak.”

The vein in his jaw pulsated as he looked down on your smaller figure in disgust, “Piss off, rat. I didn’t steal your fucking package.”

Your grip on his door tightened. The familiar feeling of hot burning rage once again coursed through your bones, “IT’S ONLY ME AND YOU ON THIS FLOOR, DUMBASS!”

He let out his own frustrated growl as he swung his door back open, almost knocking you off balance, “I DIDN'T STEAL SHIT FROM YOU, WOMAN!” 

The world felt like it slowed down for a moment. The feeling of your bottled rage finally reaching its limit. From the tips of your toes to the top of your forehead, you could feel the urge to punch, kick, and scream. A calling to let loose all your feelings you held inside.

Now normally this is where you’d remember your anger management lessons. Countdown from ten to zero, take deep breaths, and blah blah blah. 

But no. Ever since your fuckhead neighbor moved in next door your rage has been through the roof. From his overly obnoxious music taste, to his various romantic partners, you couldn’t catch a break. So, what if you let loose a bit?

Your fist swung before you could even think about the consequences of your actions. Sure, you’ve gotten into plenty of arguments with your new neighbor. But never once have you raised a hand.

The satisfying thump of a head recoiling against an open door made your heart race. The feeling to continue on, to fight, to destroy was overwhelming. Alas, no feeling could ever beat seeing the stunned face of a man who just took a punch to the face.

Swiping the blood from his nose, he glared at you with new vigor, “What the fuck?”

Another swing, this time your hand was swiftly captured in a brawny fist. You clenched your teeth in pain as he squeezed your smaller hand excruciatingly tight, his other hand capturing your shirt's collar.

You struggled against his holds, brow twitching in agitation, “Where the fuck is it?”

The scent of mint flooded your senses as he pulled your collar closer to his face, “I don’t have your goddamn package. Now give me one reason why I shouldn’t paint the floor with you right now?”

You tore your hand away from his weakening hold and flipped him off, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Brother?”

Surprised, you both turned to another, much smaller, pinkette. An almost identical copy of the asshole still clutching your shirt. Though, this one was a lot easier to get along with.

The larger man sighed deeply above you before letting you go, “Yuuji, why are you here so late?”

You grunted as he harshly shoved you back. Shooting your arm out, you caught yourself on the doors frame. Cocky fucker. Grinding your teeth together, you decided to spare your shit neighbor because of one reason only.

“Hey, Yuuji. How’s university?”

You could feel a dark stare on the side of your head, relentless and unwavering. Yuuji smiled brightly at you as he came closer to the door.

“Great! Professor Gojo totally let us slack off all day today!”

You threw a smug smirk at the man still glaring daggers at your head. How’s it feel to be ignored?

As if hearing your question his grip tightened on his crossed arms.

“Megumi, Nobara, and I went out for ice cream after class too. I didn’t think it’d take this long though,” Yuuji scratched the back of his head embarrassed.

You smiled at his shy form only to stop yourself when you noticed the man standing next to you smiling as well. Bastard. What the hell is he enjoying life for?

“I see. Alright, come on I made dinner,” his eyes trailed from Yuuji to you, “for two.”

You rolled your eyes at his hostility. Like you’d want to eat his food anyway. Knowing him it probably tastes like shit.

Not sparing a second glance at him, you waved goodbye to Yuuji and strolled back to your humble abode. A satisfying conclusion until you realized you never got your damned package.

・❥・

“I told you already, Mom. I’ve been getting better. I think my lessons are finally starting to work.”

“Are you sure, sweetie? You know if it ever gets too much again you can always come back home.”

You sighed heavily at your mother’s worried tone, “I’m very sure, mom. I mean come on, I just have one more day until my one month without an outburst!”

Your mother laughed slightly on the phone, but the thick layer of concern was still evident. Quickly dismissing any more of her anxiety, you wished her goodnight.

Shoving your cracked phone into your pocket, you hit the fourth floor button on your apartment complex’s elevator. With a quiet hum, the metal box slowly took you up to your floor.

The fourth floor was nice to live on. It was practically a penthouse. The reason being because you were its only occupant. Although, there was no sound reason for the building's vacancy, you just assumed no one in the area wanted to live in a second rate apartment. Especially when power outages were frequent.

That didn’t really concern you though. You had a home with zero people around. Not something you’d complain about.

Stepping into the outdated hallway, you took a deep breath of the stale air. Cracking a knuckle here, popping a joint there, you made your way to your lone room near the end of the hallway.

Automatically, your brows furrowed at the sight of large boxes decorating the floor around your door and the one next to it. You didn’t order anything.

Not so calmly making your way over to the mysterious boxes, you frowned as you realized the next door apartment’s door ajar. Neighbors?

A twinge of annoyance shot through your body before you quickly extinguished it. You thought back to the group lesson of today. The main focus was on allowing yourself to hear people out. Understand another person’s reasoning before you flip your shit. Having a ‘civilized’ conversation.

While someone moving in isn’t really what the lesson had been meant for, you figured you’d might as well give it a shot. Another step forward if you will.

Preparing yourself, you maneuvered around the scattered boxes in front of your new neighbor’s door. With a determined fist you knocked on the familiar white wood that matched your own. 

Movement could be heard coming from behind the door, yet there was no answer. Your jaw twitched as you knocked again causing whoever was moving to curse.

Just as you were about to knock again, the door violently flung open revealing a disheveled man. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have to pick your jaw up off the floor. 

The tall man loomed over your form threateningly. It was clear as day that you only reached the tops of his collar bones. An observation you confirmed after noticing the man’s lack of a shirt.

Speaking of which, you had to pick your jaw up again at the sight of a chiseled body. Saying he had the body of a god was no understatement. You could grate cheese on those abs. Even more striking were the strange black tattoos that marked his skin. You traced the thick black lines that covered his chest with your eyes. They only aided in the dark and mysterious vibe to him.

Begrudgingly moving your eyes up to his face allowed for a third drop of the jaw. Similar tattoos to his chest and arms only accentuated the sharp cut of his jaw. His eyes were a piercing deep red which matched perfectly with his surprisingly pink dusted hair. Did a Greek god just move upstairs next to you?

“Are you done checking me out yet?”

You felt your face burn as you glared at him, “I wasn’t ‘checking’ you out.”

A dangerous smirk pulled on his lips, “Listen, woman. I don’t have all day to play around with you. Get to the point.”

You felt a familiar rage spark in the pit of your stomach. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you threw him an exaggerated smile.

“I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself to my new neighbor,” you lifted your hand out in front of you for a handshake, “I’m (y/n) (l/n), I hope we can get along.” 

The man scoffed at you in amusement before taking your hand in his roughly, “Sukuna.”

The handshake was quick but firm enough for you to rub your hand after in soreness. The familiar twang of anger once again rose before you quelled it.

You clenched your fists, eager to just go back into your apartment, “I was wondering if there was anything I can help you with? With you being the new and only neighbor and all.”

You begged him in your head to say no. You weren’t sure if you could continue this ‘civil’ conversation for much longer.

“Sure,” you swallowed hard as he leaned against the door frame, “Do you know anyone decent enough to fuck around here or are there only women around here that look like you?”

You felt a cord snap, “What the fuck did you just say?”

A flash behind his eyes showed the clear amusement he was getting from your new attitude, “I said, is there anyone half decent enough to fuck around here or are there only noisy little pigs in this building?” 

You growled at his arrogance, “You’re one to talk, pretty boy. Do you normally piss off everyone you talk to?”

His smirk deepened, “Of course. Did you think you were special?”

Like a leaf in the wind your thirty day chip flew away from you. Bye bye progress. Back to the start you go~

White hot rage filled your senses as you poked a finger into his exposed chest, ���YOU WANNA GO, ASSHOLE? THE FUCKS YOUR PROBLEM?”

Amusement slowly formed into irritation as he slapped your hand away, “You're even loud like a pig.”

You snarled at him, “Listen here you piece of shit, at least I don’t look like I crawled out of a fucking kids cartoon with that stupid ass hair color.”

Pissed, Sukuna stood to his full height and crossed his arms, “Watch your mouth, dwarf.”

You craned your neck up and shot daggers at him, “Watch your own mouth, motherfucker! God to think I was trying to be a helpful neighbor and see if you needed anything!”

“Helpful neighbor my ass. All you’ve done so far is yell at me in my own home.”

“We’re in the hallway, dumbass!”

Sukuna backed up and rubbed his brow, “I don’t have time to deal with a little kid's temper tantrum.”

As he slammed the door in your face, you caught the closing door by the edge, “I’m not a goddamn kid!”

Sukuna shoved the door closed harder “Then don’t act like one, bitch.”

Eventually his strength overpowered your grip and he flung the door shut. The sound echoed tauntingly throughout the hallway leaving you with your own thoughts.

You looked at your hands disappointed and sighed. Looks like you’ll need to wait another month, but with that asshole next door you weren’t sure if you could make a day anymore.

Greek god your ass, more like a curse.

・❥・

It’s been a month since your dear neighbor Sukuna moved in, and without fail you two have argued in that hallway everyday. Today was no different, though maybe you took it too far by punching him.

You groaned and rolled around on your bed. You felt bad but no way in hell were you apologizing. Burying your head in a pillow you screamed into it. Why was that prick such an asshole??

Sitting up in your bed you hit your pillow repeatedly against your worn mattress. All this stress and worry was making you antsy. After jumping the poor pillow, you threw it against your wall harshly. The pillow hit the plaster with a soft thump before making its way to the floor. You growled in annoyance at the wall your pillow hit.

That very wall was connected to what you assumed was Sukuna’s room. With the amount of noise that came from it every night it had to be. 

Though the first few nights he moved in it was quiet, after a week the noise of various rock bands leaking into your room made you bang on the wall in anger. Though you figured this only fueled the desire to infuriate you as he turned it up even louder.

Another contender for why you figured his room was next to yours was the fact you had to sit through multiple nights of him railing the shit out of some poor girls. The first night it happened you remembered blindly walking over to his door and slamming your fists against the wood. 

・❥・

“Rick, I'm in love with you!”

“My dear Isabella, I can not reciprocate. For I have already fallen in love!”

“With whom, my love??? That skank Isabell!?”

“No, it is… Steffanie.”

“YOUR HAMSTER?!”

You snorted at your daytime tv while shoveling popcorn into your mouth. Your friend had been right about this channel. It really was absolute nonsense.

You watched as the woman on the screen fainted into her former lover's arms. Wow. Imagine being left for a hamster. Shifting in your seat you paused when you heard a faint noise.

Turning down your television volume you waited. Nothing. Huh, maybe you needed to get your ears checked-

“Ngh~”

The popcorn situated in your mouth fell onto your bed silently. What the fuck?

“Harder!”

Now that's where you couldn’t pretend anymore. Was your new neighbor fucking someone right now? At 10am? On a Sunday??

Your question was quickly answered by louder and whinier moans. Listening closely, you could just barely register the deep grunts of a certain bastard neighbor.

Oh hell no. You were not about to sit here and listen to some fuck fest. Abandoning your comfy bed, you stormed out of your room and over to a familiar door. 

Seething with rage, you pounded against the door harshly. The wood shook and rattled at the strength used against it. You growled at the silence behind the door and knocked louder.

“OPEN UP, FUCKHEAD!”

The door finally ripped open revealing an aggravated Sukuna, “What the fuck do you want?”

Your eyes widened as you took a moment to take in his appearance. Pink hair laid messily against his forehead, an unusual look compared to his normal gelled up style. Though most concerningly, he wore no clothes other than a thin white sheet lifted up to cover his manhood.

Trying to conceal your blush, you fumed at him, “Keep it the hell down! I can hear the goddam thrusting.”

Sukuna’s face twisted into a grin, “Jealous your dried up ass gets no action?”

You slammed your fist against the hallways wall, “At this rate I don’t need any action when I feels like I’m in a fucking threesome.”

You shivered at the deep chuckle he let out. You watched as his eyes trailed your form, feeling exposed to his watchful stare. The action made you regret not throwing anything over your tank top and shorts.

“Threesome?” He licked his lips when he returned his gaze to your eyes, “I can arrange that if you're begging for it.”

A shift of the sheet caught your attention. Sukuna lowered the thin fabric allowing for more skin to show. You felt your face burn. So the carpet does match the drapes. 

You flinched at his mocking chuckle, “Though I’m kinda busy right now, mind coming back later?”

You let out a frustrated yell and thundered off, “J-JUST KEEP IT DOWN!”

Laughter followed you as you slammed your door shut and slid down the cool wood. Fuck.

・❥・

Shaking yourself out of the embarrassing memory you glared at the wall spitefully. Boiling in rage you threw your remote against the drywall. Piece of shit. 

A harsh knock back from the other side made you clench your fists. So now he wants to complain? You went to put your hand through the drywall and yank a kicking and screaming Sukuna through before you heard a grunt.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You swear to god if you have to sit through another bang session you would really get violent. Pausing for a moment, you waited to hear the usual high pitched sounds that came from his pick of the night. Nada. Slowly you crawled across your bed and pressed an ear against the wall.

Now, don’t get yourself wrong. You were not a creep in any way shape or form. Plus, this didn’t even count if it’s your wall right? You were just trying to figure out what he was doing. As a nice neighbor would.

A hushed groan made you flinch away from the wall before returning. Resting a hand against the wall, you felt your heartbeat pick up as your ears adjusted to the quiet noises. Was he-

A strained sigh confirmed your thoughts. You bit your lip as you leaned into the wall further. His sounds almost encouraged you to listen on. Against your will, the familiar feeling of heat between your legs rose. You clenched your thighs together, trying to get a hold of yourself.

You should stop. You should get up and leave the room. Even if you hate the bastard you're still invading his privacy. So why are you staying? 

A drawn out hiss pulled you back in. Like an incubus he drew you to him. Your hand slowly started tracing down your abdomen. Have you always felt this way? There’s always been tension but you’d always figured it was just to piss you off.

You shuddered as your hand crept its way under your waist band. You hesitated for a moment. Was this morally right? A rough curse from the thin wall wound you up again. Fuck, how could someone’s voice do this to you?

Shyly, you pressed a curious finger against your wet slit, dragging up against your heat to your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath as you started to rub timid circles against your bud.

Sukuna’s deep groans slowly became more aggressive, sending another throb to your lower half. You bit your wrist in an attempt to contain the needy moans that managed to escape. Quickly, your movements became more and more erratic as you chased your high. 

Eventually, Sukuna’s moans died out without you realizing. You were too focused on the pleasure you were indulging yourself in. You bit your wrist harder, drawing blood, as your hips grinded themselves onto your fingers. The thickness of your wrist barely contained your ragged breathing as you finally reached your peak.

Mouth agape, the cord in your stomach snapped as stars flashed in your eyes. Your fingers moved by themselves, helping you extend your high for even longer.

With a final gasp you leaned against the wall and pulled your hand out of your bottoms. The clear substance that coated them looked back at you with mockery. What the hell do you just do?

・❥・

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

They cling to each other for a long time. Gradually, Eddie’s breathing stops catching with sobs, and he becomes aware of other impressions: the water dampening his jeans as he sits on the tiles, the muffled chaos on the other side of the bathroom door—people calling desperately for loved ones, hospital staff shouting orders.

And as Eddie calms, he feels when the hug shifts, when Dustin starts to shake, and it turns more into Eddie holding him than the other way around.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths, only stuttering slightly. Swallows and tries to gather himself. “What happened to your face, man, you okay?”

Dustin nods over his shoulder. “One of the windows blew at Ste—at the house when the… when the gates...”

“Shit.” Eddie pulls back a little, and he can see the evidence of it now, little pieces of glass littering Dustin’s hair. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re fine, they stayed there. It was just one window, the house barely got hit compared to…” Dustin trails off with a shrug that Eddie takes to mean compared to the whole town. “There was an old bike in the garage, so…”

“You biked here? By yourself?” Eddie had half been hoping that he’d somehow hailed a cab or something equally miraculous, can’t fathom just how dangerous it currently is to travel alone, so exposed, if the whole town is anything like the trailer park—

The ground splitting, blood red light, Steve’s blank eyes—

Eddie shakes his head. “Jesus, Henderson. You’re damn lucky you didn’t break something.” Or worse.

“I don’t care.” Dustin lets go and fixes Eddie with a fierce stare, eyes wet. “I—Eddie.” His voice breaks. “I said I hated him.”

They’re both avoiding using Steve’s name, like saying it out loud will mean they have to face the terrible reality of it.

Eddie pushes down another wave of grief. Dustin needs to hear this. “That’s—Dustin. He knew that wasn’t true.”

“Yeah.” A harsh laugh of self-loathing, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the sound. “But I still said it. That—that says—”

“That doesn’t say anything about you,” Eddie says fiercely. “You hear me? Not a fucking thing. You…” He pulls Dustin into another hug, feels the tremors of him crying. Squeezes tight. “You were just scared. No crime in that, all right?”

“Sorry, Eddie, I—I’m just. I’m really fucking scared.”

He has no idea if Dustin is really listening, wonders distantly if this is how Wayne has felt over the years, when faced with him. He just holds onto Dustin, hopes that it’s enough, hopes that it says all that he means. Christ, kid, can’t you see how much he loved you? He’d have done anything for you.

Eddie strokes a hand through Dustin’s hair, carefully removing pieces of glass. Oh, he’d have done anything for you.

And he did.

It’s only when they pull themselves up off the floor that he notices Dustin’s limp.

“You did break something.”

“I don’t think so.” Dustin stands on the foot experimentally, then winces with a quickly stifled cry.

“Hey, don’t! Here, just…”

He gives Dustin his arm to lean on, and they walk in silence. Eddie finds that he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what balance to strike. His usual joking would just ring false, but what he actually wants to do, which is keep double checking that Dustin is okay, feels too close to… to something that Steve would do.

He doesn’t want to be a reminder of all that they’ve lost.

They find Robin waiting for them outside the restrooms. Her face is pale, blotchy, and when she runs to Dustin, wraps her arms around him, Eddie remembers—

Robin’s arms tight around his chest, holding him back. He had caught the ambulance driver glancing at his watch, realised it was to check for the time of death, and now he's making a mournful keening noise he didn’t know he was capable of.

Denial flooding him, painful, overwhelming. He can’t accept it, suddenly, even though another part of him repeats ‘he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone’ like a lament; wants to scream, “You don't understand, he can’t be—he was just talking to me—”

“Why are you just—someone fucking help him!” He's reaching for Steve, but Robin's grip is strong; he just brushes Steve’s fingers, and they’re cold, why are they—

“Eddie,” Robin is whispering brokenly. “Eddie, stop, it's—it's not him anymore.”

Eddie breathes, presses his back against the wall as Robin takes Dustin’s weight with a concerned expression.

“He needs someone to take a look at that,” Eddie says, nodding at Dustin’s leg. His voice sounds normal, if a little flat. Oh. He’s numb, he thinks.

When Robin replies, she sounds similar, looks grateful at being given a task, something to do. “They're taking minor wounds on the floor below.” She gives ‘minor wounds’ a skeptical air quote with one hand.

They start heading towards the elevator, and then Eddie sees it out of the corner of his eye. Denim jacket, a flash of plaid.

He makes sure Robin is still holding Dustin before he starts to run. People jostle against him, unseeing, slamming into his shoulders, and he keeps fighting against the tide, because—

“Wayne!” he calls desperately, feeling suddenly very young.

Up ahead, someone turns. And then there is a familiar warmth around him, ushering him to the side, away from people.

“Eddie,” his uncle says, and he looks exhausted and shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

The sight of him triggers a rush of emotion all over again, and the only thing Eddie can say is a choked, “I didn't kill her.”

Wayne’s eyes soften. “C'mon, son. You know me better than that.”

Eddie’s breath hitches again. Wayne holds him, holds him like he did when he was a child and had bad dreams, a hand cupping his head like there, now. We’ll make this right.

And then Wayne pulls back, eyes flickering over Eddie. “Christ, Eddie. You hurt?”

There’s a split second of confusion; Eddie glances down at himself, sees the blood and vomit on his shirt. Sways a little, and Wayne grabs onto him in alarm.

“No, it's not—I'm fine, Wayne. Promise.” He breathes through a lump in his throat and gets out, “A friend died,” which feels so inadequate for the enormity of what had happened.

Wayne stares at him for a long moment. Then he says, very gently, “This is something big, ain't it?” He gestures to the thronging corridor, to the windows. “What you got mixed up in?”

Eddie almost laughs at that. From Wayne’s phrasing, it sounds like he just got mixed up in the wrong crowd at school, when really, just a few days ago, lost in despair, he'd somehow found the strangest, best people in the world.

And now, he's lost one of them.

“Fuck, Wayne, there's—there's so much I want to tell you,” he says. “But I—I don't know if I can. Not yet.”

It hurts to say; Wayne’s always upheld the fact that Eddie can tell him anything and everything. He can see that Wayne is about to reply as much, but then he must spot something on Eddie's face, sense the fear.

“All right, Eddie,” he says calmly. “Not yet.” Then his eyes widen a fraction, and he moves forward, as if to shield him. “Aren't the cops still looking for you?”

“I...” Eddie shakes his head. He recalls having a very distant thought that he might get arrested as they arrived at the hospital, but it had gone as quickly as it came; because he’d seen Steve—seen the body get covered with a sheet, and Nancy's hand had gripped around Eddie’s wrist like she needed an anchor, nails piercing his skin.

“Not sure,” he finishes honestly. “I—I don't think so. I don't know why.”

Wayne studies him, then sighs. “All right,” he repeats. He doesn't sound happy about it, but he can read Eddie, read that there's somehow even bigger things to worry about. “You got people here?”

“Yeah.” Eddie blinks away the image of Steve's glassy stare, thinks of Dustin—Dustin, who still needs him. “Yeah, I...”

Wayne nods. “Go. Some folks got banged up at the plant, one of the nurses said they need volunteers.” He lets go of Eddie with reluctance. “Stay in the building, all right? I'll come find you.”

Eddie nods. It’s one of the hardest things in the world, to walk away from Wayne. He didn’t think he’d ever have this back. “I love you.”

Wayne tsks, brings Eddie in for a brief, fierce embrace. “I love you, too.”

-

It’s not Dustin that Eddie finds first as he retraces his steps, but Nancy, taking a call. He sees her lips move: “Mike.” Something changes. She goes very still, her grip on the phone tightening. Then, whatever she’s saying is delivered rapidly; she slams the phone down and runs right into Eddie.

“Woah, where's the fire, Wheeler?” Eddie says. His heart is already in his throat at the sight of her; she’s white as a sheet. What fucking now?

She breathes in and out, then grabs his hand. “Come on.”

They run together. Nancy doesn't provide any explanation as they hurtle up the staircase, as she leads him to a very quiet corridor in the ICU.

“Just...” She takes a breath, collects herself. “Wait here. I'll be right back.”

And she storms through another set of doors. Eddie stands there, frozen. It’s the longest fifteen minutes of his life. When she comes back, she’s much slower, and she sits down opposite him, puts her head between her knees.

“What's...? Shit, Wheeler, you're scaring me.”

She looks up. Surprisingly, her eyes are dry. “I'm about to tell you something,” she says, “and... Eddie, I'd only tell you if I was sure.”

Eddie blinks. “Shoot.”

“Okay. They—Steve. He was being taken away. To the...” Nancy's eyes dart to a sign, and Eddie fights back nausea. To the morgue. “But then they... They've found a pulse.”

The words take a while to truly hit Eddie, as if they come from a long tunnel. When they do, he feels his legs buckle, and he slides down to the floor. He's glad Dustin isn’t here; hope, false hope, is cruel.

“Nancy,” he says, through gritted teeth. "That—that’s not possible. I—I felt him—” He can’t even say it. I felt him die.

Nancy leans forward, puts her hand on one of his knees and squeezes. “I know,” she says simply. Then she stands. “Come with me.”

But Eddie doesn't want to move. He wonders if it's all been too much, if this is a trick, if Nancy’s had enough and is finally turning him in. But then he remembers how she had held onto him as they celebrated the communication with Dustin in The Upside Down. And he sees her eyes now, sharp and earnest.

So he lets her guide him onwards.

He comes to a halt outside a room. Feels a weight in the pit of his stomach, like he’s at a turning point; that maybe this is all in his head, and he'll go right back to his bedroom, and Steve will—Steve will—

Nancy’s hand slips into his. She raises her eyebrows, and it’s not quite a smile she gives him, but the expression seems to say, Together?

As one, they walk inside.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie whispers.

In a bed lies a body that looks remarkably like Steve Harrington. There’s a cast on one of his legs, but what draws Eddie’s attention is his face, the waxy pallor of it, the mask fitted tightly around his mouth. That awful stare has gone; someone has closed his eyes. Eddie doesn’t realise that he’s holding his breath until he sees the slightest movement of Steve’s chest, the weakest rise and fall... but it's there.

Eddie turns away and retches. Nothing comes up. Nancy rubs at his back.

“I spoke to some... there’s doctors who—they know about. Everything. They told me that they're not really worried about his leg, it just seems like a normal break,” she says. Her voice wavers slightly, like she's fighting tears. “The... the bites on his stomach stopped bleeding, but... it's his lungs, they think.” She nods at the mask. “They're giving him the same stuff they gave Will, after he was in The Upside Down. They say it's the best chance he's got.”

Eddie thinks about Steve throwing up. His gasping breaths. Panicking. Fuck, he can’t breathe. Then—

“He was coughing,” he says. The memory feels hazy, as if it happened years ago. “When we were… on the bikes, to my trailer. I could hear him.”

He feels shaky again. Nancy draws up two chairs, close to Steve’s bed, and they sit.

He is aware, suddenly, of a slow but steady beeping. A heart monitor.

It doesn’t feel real. Eddie pinches the skin on the back of his hand hard, half expects to see a clock instead of…

“Fucking hell, Wheeler,” he sighs. “What are we gonna do?”

“Make sure he’s not alone,” Nancy says.

They keep a silent vigil. At some point, Nancy rises, flits out of the room. Eddie hears hushed conversation just outside, and then Dustin and Robin come in, Dustin hobbling on crutches. Robin makes a wounded noise, reaches forward and holds Steve’s hand so gently.

Eddie doesn’t dare touch him. Something in the back of his mind whispers that he might break the spell, that Steve might crumble away into nothing if he so much as—

“It doesn’t look like him,” Dustin says. He sounds torn between anger and despair. “He looks… gone.”

Eddie sucks in a breath. “I know.” Because Dustin has voiced his precise fear: that this is all that remains. A different death, but a death all the same.

-

It happens much later, when Dustin has been shepherded back to Steve’s house by Nancy and Robin. “We’ll check on the kids,” Nancy had said, “and then we’ll be back.”

“Take your time,” Eddie told her, noting the sunken, fatigued look to all of them.

They’ve been gone for just over an hour when Eddie, fighting sleep, realises that he hasn’t told Wayne about the state of the trailer. He almost wants to search for him, but he doesn’t dare leave the room, even if he can only really look at the hospital sheets, his eyes darting away from Steve’s face. Dustin’s right; he looks gone.

He hears it half in a dream, eyes closing despite himself. A radio, faintly, from another room, a cleaner leaving the door ajar.

Leaving nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town.

He jolts awake sharply, as if his body is already aware of something before his mind has understood. Still blinking away sleep, this time he does not look away when his eyes land on…

It’s barely there. But Eddie sees it: the faintest of creases on Steve’s forehead.

Eddie stares. Then it clicks.

“Holy shit,” he says, hushed, afraid that if he speaks too loudly, it will all stop. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry—he ends up doing a mixture of both. “Harrington, is this your fucking song?”

The sound of the radio fades away, and with it so does the tiniest of frowns. Desperately, Eddie picks up the chorus himself, stumbling over the words in his haste; and this time, he sees it happen, the change from an unnatural laxness to…

A little pinch in between Steve’s brows, subtle, but there.

“Fuck, it’s really you,” Eddie says. “You’re still in there.” His eyes burn with tears. He reaches for Steve’s hand, holds on despite the lingering coldness to his skin. “Christ, please keep fighting, man. Please.”