#I love doing comics but they make my wrist explode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkykeiji · 4 years ago

Text

i like the way they run, then fall, then die

character: shigaraki tomura

genre: gore/violence for torture, then smut

notes: this takes place before the events of break my bones but act as my spine! please, please heed the warnings. the entire first half of this is a torture scene. if you’re just here for the smut and would prefer not to read the torture, scroll all the way down to the three stars dividing part one from part two - you can still read the smut without reading the torture if u wanna, all you need to know is that tomura tortured + murdered a boy who had been harassing the reader at university and now he’s coming home. please please please stay safe <33 | title credit: nitro cell by city morgue

warnings: 18+, torture, murder, blood/gore, graphic depictions of violence, daddy kink, spanking with a belt, edging, mild degradation, possessiveness/generally toxic relationship

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

He isn’t usually one for torture—all this pleading drives him absolutely insane, makes it feel like a thousand tiny bugs are crawling under his skin. However, when it comes to someone who has wronged you, well…that’s a different issue entirely.

Men who bother you deserve to be tortured within an inch of their lives, and Tomura will gladly endure their pitiful begging; he wants to hear them beg and plead and cry like the pathetic pieces of shit they are. He wants them to suffer, and to suffer immensely, for even thinking about touching something that’s his, for daring to utter a disrespectful word to something that’s his.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Bleary hazel eyes open, blinking twice then squinting as they try to adjust to the bright light, a head full of orange curls lolling back heavily. It takes the boy’s hazy mind a few moments to register the fact that he’s tied to a chair, thick rope binding him to it.

Tomura knows the boy recognizes him almost instantly when their gaze meets and his hazel eyes widen in an almost comical manner, breath hitching painfully in his chest as he chokes on a gasp. A wicked, toothless smile spreads across Tomura’s face.

He’d have a hard time forgetting those ruby eyes that, impossibly, seem like they’re glowing under the fluorescent lights of the old abandoned A.F.O laboratory; those same eyes that had glared at the redhead over your shoulder only a few days ago as Tomura caught you in his arms.

This boy had been pestering you for a while now. You hadn’t thought much of it the first day it happened, wrote it off as some overeager and overconfident college boy, but by the third day you were sure this classified as harassment. Sick of repeating yourself and firmly telling the boy that you have a boyfriend and you’re not interested, you whined to Tomura about it that night after dinner, your head in his lap as his slender fingers carded through your hair—and inadvertently sentenced the boy to death, right then and there.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life when you spotted Tomura leaning casually against the Maybach after your last class had ended, the day after you had voiced your complaints. Taking off the moment your eyes met, you ran into his waiting arms, cutting the boy off mid-sentence. Tomura must’ve given that boy an awfully nasty look, because the harassment magically stopped.

Or so you thought.

Nevertheless, the boy manages to spit out a shaky, “Wh-Who are you?” as he begins to struggle against his restraints.

“Aw, come on, you know who I am,” Tomura says like their old friends, walking a few feet towards him with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Where am I? What am I doing here?” his eyes dart around the room wildly, barely pausing on the three men leaning against the wall behind Tomura before they find his face again, big and frenzied.

Tomura’s smile spreads, revealing sharp white teeth. He isn’t usually one for torture—all this pleading drives him absolutely insane, makes it feel like a thousand tiny bugs are crawling under his skin. However, when it comes to someone who has wronged you, well…that’s a different issue entirely.

He doesn’t answer the boy’s questions, instead opting to pull out his phone and scroll through it quickly.

“You wanna see the love of my life?” there’s a slight bite to his tone as he shoves the device in the redhead’s face, pale hand gripping it so tightly it trembles a little.

The kid’s eyes fill with tears as he stares at your smiling face, tiny sobs beginning to sound from deep in his throat. His eyes flit between the screen and Tomura, an impending sense of doom looming over him.

“She’s real pretty, isn’t she?” he asks mockingly, a hint of a pout in his voice. “Pretty enough to harass, yeah? Pretty enough to render you incapable of understanding the word no, eh?”

“I’m sorry,” the kid’s already wailing, pathetic sobs beginning get under Tomura’s skin, blunt nails absentmindedly scratching at his wrist and forearm. “I-I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, I swear!”

“Ah?” Tomura stops for a moment, blinking at the kid with wide eyes, mimicking astonishment. “Now I know that’s a lie,” he smirks. “I heard her tell you, several times. Do you have hearing problems? Is there something wrong with your memory?”

The kid stares at him, mouth opening and closing quickly, exhaling shallow breaths in rapid little huffs.

“You seem to be hearing fine right now,” Tomura continues, voice still painfully calm. “And you remember her, and me, so I doubt there’s something wrong with your memory, right?” he stops, only a few feet from the kid now. “Right?”

The poor redhead can’t find his voice, only able to emit these tiny, pitiful sounds in the back of his throat, peppered between his obnoxious sobbing. He shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again, movements jerky and frantic.

Tomura’s eyebrows knit, and he tilts his head to the side. “Well, which one is it?” his voice is so casual, and he sounds almost as if he’s worried about the boy’s inability to decide.

Sighing after a beat of silence, Tomura tuts his tongue and shakes his head, cocking his gun. “Shame,” he points the gun at the kid’s head, closing an eye as he adjusts his aim, tongue poking his cheek.

“No!” the kid cries out, squirming against his restraints. “I-I—You’re right! There’s nothing wrong w-with my hearing or my memory, please—”

“Mm, thought so,” Tomura says softly to himself, nodding as he swiftly readjusts his aim and pulls the trigger, shattering the kid’s right kneecap.

The redhead lets out an absolutely bloodcurdling scream, throwing his head back as he thrashes wildly against the thick rope again, the legs of the chair scraping against the concrete.

“Ouch!” Dabi laughs from his spot on the floor, leaning back against the far wall, blue eyes dancing with mirth.

“Ugh,” Chisaki groans beside him, looking away in disgust.

Tomura takes a moment to admire his work, Dabi’s encouraging laughter inspiring another bout of confidence to surge through his chest. He had been close enough that the bullet caused the entire kneecap to explode, sending little bits of bone and flesh flying, thick blood immediately beginning to cascade down the boy’s leg, soaking straight through the denim of his jeans.

“Now,” he continues, speaking over the boy’s shouting with a levelled voice. “I’m gonna cut those pesky ears off your fucking head, since you don’t seem to use them,” he looks over at Dabi and nods once, prompting Dabi to hop up and leave the laboratory.

“But before that,” he stops in front of the kid and leans forward, his face only a few inches away. “Do you wanna know what her pussy tastes like? Hmm? I bet you do. I bet you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

He’s still blubbering, Tomura’s words barely registering, ears ringing from the gunshot. Crimson eyes search his face intently, bright with the intoxicating mix of adrenaline and exhilaration that the rush of torture affords him. Tomura wrinkles his nose a little at the snot running down the kids face and onto his lips, face red and streaked with gleaming tears.

“I’ll tell you,” he says, voice dropping into a growl. “It’ll be the last thing you hear before I take those good-for-nothing ears from you—what a treat!” he laughs a little, resting his hands on his bent knees, inching forward just a hint more. “She tastes like strawberries and honey; the perfect balance of tart and sweet. God, her cum’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, the most decadent cream…Fuck,” he breathes, pulling back with a malicious grin. “Now you got me craving her,”

Dabi returns then, coming to stand beside Tomura, and the kid’s so consumed with pain that he doesn’t even notice the little reciprocating saw in Dabi’s hands.

“Ah, thank you,” Tomura says as he takes it, a devious smile spreading across his face. He turns the saw on, testing it by squeezing the trigger a few times. “Perfect. Now,”

He grabs an ear by the cartilage and yanks, holding it taut from the head. The kid squirms, trying to wiggle his way out of Tomura’s grasp and he growls, asking Dabi to hold his head steady.

The saw slices through the ear like butter, cleanly slashing it from his head in one quick motion. Blood begins to gush from the wound immediately, streaming down the redhead’s cheek, thick, sticky drops dripping off his jaw and onto his collarbone.

“One,” Tomura counts gleefully, tossing the ear to the side. It hits the concrete with a sickening splat! a few feet away.

“Very Mr. Blonde of you, Tomura,” Chisaki rolls his eyes as Tomura moves onto the next ear, Dabi nearly snapping the kid’s neck as he forces his head to tilt the other way, allowing his boss easier access to the second appendage.

“Oh!” Dabi gasps as the saw neatly slices the second ear off. “We should set him on fire,” he suggests, sapphire eyes glittering at the prospect.

“Oh?” Tomura looks up at him, intrigued, decapitated ear still hanging between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you have any kerosene in your car?”

“Nah, but I could go get some—”

“Can we please finish this, already?” Chisaki whines, pushing off the wall and walking towards the two men. “My lunchbreak is almost over,” he checks his watch, frowning.

“Alright, Mr. Head Chemist, your lunchbreak is almost over. You have to head back to work—we are gonna find some kerosene,”

Chisaki sighs, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers. “Your father would like you at the lab today, Tomura,” he says flatly.

Tomura groans, shoulders slumping as he dramatically throws his head back to glare at the ceiling. “But the lab is so boring when there aren’t any experiments or testings going on,” he complains with a slight pout.

“I could finish him off, if you want,” Dabi offers.

“No! Where’s the fun in that? What good is torturing him if I don’t even get to see him die?”

“Look, I don’t care how you do it, just hurry up,” Chisaki spits, turning to walk away. “I’m going to my car—you better be in yours in five minutes,”

“God, he’s no fun,” Tomura mutters to Dabi, who nods in agreement.

“I heard that!” Chisaki hollers as he continues walking, not bothering to look back.

“You were supposed to!” Tomura calls in response, rolling his eyes. “Damn,” he sighs in disappointment, turning back to the boy. His face is slippery with blood, pouring down either side and streaking his neck and the collar of his polo shirt. He’s gone into shock from the pain, screams cut off into choked little whimpers and hiccups. “Looks like our playtime ends here,”

He shrugs, almost indifferent, cocks his gun again and fluidly aims at the boy’s forehead, pulling the trigger without a second thought.

Wet splatters of crimson stain the concrete, echoing throughout the mostly vacant building, the boy’s quiet little sounds cutting off abruptly. Tomura watches as the light fades from his wide, terrified eyes, watches as the hazel goes from vibrant to dull, and the kid’s head falls back, blood beginning to trickle down the bridge of his nose.

A car honks twice outside and Tomura snarls a little to himself, whipping his head around and glaring at the door to the lab, hanging half open and letting pale sunlight leak in.

His grip tightens around his gun, fingers flexing around the metal warmed by his palm. “I’m gonna kill him,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

“Nah, don’t be stupid,” Dabi laughs, shaking his head a little. “We still need him,”

✰ ✰ ✰

Tomura returns to the penthouse earlier than expected, startling you when large hands wrap around your hips just as you’re removing a loaf of freshly baked banana bread from the oven.

“Aw, baby, playing housewife?” he coos, breath hot against your ear, before taking the lobe between his teeth.

A sigh slips through your parted lips and you lean back against his chest, tipping your head to the side and eyes closing.

“Our bananas were going bad,” you explain softly, in a bit of a trance as nimble fingers rub small circles into your hips.

“Oh?” he asks, as if he’s genuinely interested, lips leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. “It’s so cute when you get all domestic,” tender hands slide up your torso, coming to cup your breasts as he kneads them gently, tweaking a nipple through the thin material of your dress.

Your back arches as you try to press into his palms more, quiet mewls spilling from your lips.

“What’s gotten—” you cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath as teeth sink into your skin. “What’s gotten into you?”

Tomura usually isn’t this…soft. He’s affectionate for sure, but his after work affections usually include slamming you up against the nearest wall, counter, or table and almost violently claiming your mouth with his, tongue invading viciously as rough, eager hands rip off clothing.

“Missed you,” he mumbles against your skin, tongue tracing the fresh bite. “What, daddy can’t miss his baby?” A hand snakes down your body and slips between your thighs while the other stays preoccupied with rolling your nipple between his index finger and thumb.

Little hands fly out to grip the edge of the counter as you yelp in surprise, steadying yourself as he pinches your clit. A dark chuckle sounds deep in his chest, vibrating against your back.

“Already so wet?” His fingers prod at your little hole through the flimsy material of your panties. “Did you miss daddy as much as he missed you?”

“I-I always do,”

“Oh yeah?” Moving your panties to the side, the pads of his fingers tease your slit, collecting wetness. “And did you happen to be thinking of something naughty while you were playing housewife?”

Two fingers push into you just as you open your mouth to respond, a small strangled hiss escaping your throat. It burns a little, tiny hole stretched around the digits, sucking them in.

“Hmm?” he frowns, looking almost concerned. You’d believe he was, too, if it weren’t for that wicked glint in his dark eyes, shining every time you emitted a soft noise of pleasure instead of an answer.

And then he’s curling his fingers against your spot every time you try to speak, frustration building in your chest until you’re finally able to force out, “D-Daddy, fuck me al-already!” lips set in a deep pout and eyebrows pushed together.

His fingers halt their ministrations entirely and he pulls back to look at you, ruby eyes studying your face intently, firmly pressing his lips together. It takes your clouded mind a few moments to register the words you just said, the high, whiny tone you just used…then your eyes are widening and a gasp claws its way out of your throat, shaking your head vigorously as if to say, I didn’t mean it!

“I’m feeling good today,” he begins slowly, voice even and controlled. “So you’re getting off with a few spanks for that attitude of yours. Now go bend over the dining room table,”

His voice sends chills pebbling across your skin, spikes of ice shooting up your spine. You want to protest—he can see it in your eyes, the urge tickling the tip of your tongue. You want to tell him you didn’t mean to talk back to him, promise! It’s just that you want his cock so bad! You swear! Scarlet eyes watch you sharply, daring you to utter the words, looking almost as if he’s hoping you do, just to give him an excuse to lengthen your punishment.

But you don’t want that—a longer punishment means you’ll have to wait even more before his cock’s finally inside you—so you force yourself to swallow the words and nod solemnly, sulking towards the table and draping yourself over it.

Calloused hands run up your thighs, taking the hem of your little dress with them and bunching the material around your waist. He smirks at your cute little panties, hands running over your ass and kneading for a moment before he hooks his thumbs in the waistband, pulling them down your legs. You step out of them and a low laugh rumbles in his chest as he feels the soaked material, bunching it up and stuffing it in his pocket.

The wood of the table is cool against your cheek, your heart palpitating in your chest as you anticipate the first hit.

Except it doesn’t come, and a beat of silence passes before you hear the gentle clinking of his belt buckle.

“No!” you gasp, little fingers curling around the edges of the table as you hug yourself closer to the surface, eyes snapping open and consciously forcing your head to stay pressed against it, not daring to look back at him. “No, daddy, please, not the belt,”

“Aw baby, you’re precious,” he chuckles a little, the sound making your stomach flutter. “Good girls take their punishments without complaint, and you want to be good for daddy, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, nodding against the table. He hums to himself.

“You will get twenty lashes for your behaviour, and you will count each one aloud,” Tomura explains as he folds the belt in his hands, the leather squeaking softly. “Do you understand?”

You nod again, earning yourself a superficial slap on your bare skin from the back of his hand. It still stings.

“Use your words,”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, feeling the smooth leather in his hands.

A tense, heavy silence settles in the air, your chest swelling as you subconsciously hold your breath in expectation of the first blow, crying out when the belt finally collides with your ass. The leather cuts into your flesh, leaving thin welts across the soft skin. Sharp slaps echo throughout the empty penthouse intermittently, mingled with the soft sounds of your uneven breath and pathetic little whines.

By ten, you’re whimpering into the table, tears leaking from your eyes and sharp edges biting into your palms as you grip it.

By fifteen, you’re full-on sobbing and having difficulty staying still, hips wiggling and legs trembling as you cry out the numbers, muffled by the table.

“Daddy,” you hiccup, blinking your bleary eyes furiously to clear them from tears. “Daddy, I’m sorry,”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Tomura says a little breathlessly behind you, cock straining against his slacks. “You’re almost there baby, five more to go. Be a good girl and finish your punishment,”

The statement makes you cry harder, but you manage to force out the words, “Yes, daddy,” between your wailing.

The last five are, admittedly, the most difficult for the both of you. Your soft whimpers of “Please, daddy,” and “Hurts, daddy,” nearly enough to make him forego the final five. But an intentional brat like you must learn her lesson.

When the final hit comes, you unclench your fingers from the edges of the dining room table and flex them, feeling proud of yourself for taking all twenty. Tomura’s pressed up against you in an instant, his body folded over yours, pinning you to the table.

“My pretty little baby girl, you did so well,” the words are whispered into your hair as cold hands caress the stinging skin, using his feet to nudge yours further apart. “So good for me,”

A hand trails down and between your thighs, nimble fingers slipping between your folds. He groans a little as the pads of his fingers collect your slickness; you’re still so wet.

“Such a good, good girl, getting this wet for me,”

“Please daddy, c-can I—” a little hiccup cuts you off, the pad of Tomura’s thumb swiping across your cheek to catch a stray tear as you struggle to look back at him. “Can I have your cock now?” you whimper out, eagerly pushing your hips back and into his hand, almost as if you’re trying to grind against it.

Christ, what did he do to deserve such a good little slut like you? Your lashes are still wet, little droplets of water clinging to them, soft sniffles still catching in your chest. And you’re staring at him with those wide, glistening doe eyes, your lips puffy from crying, desperately awaiting his answer as your hips move in little circles, trying to catch your clit on his fingers.

You can feel his cock, pressed up against your ass through his pants, and it only makes you crave him more, little hole fluttering around nothing.

“Yeah?” he breathes, lips at your ear. “You want it?” he pushes his hips against you more, laughing a little when you whine and nod your head fervently, rubbing your ass back against him despite the way your sensitive, wounded skin snags on the rough material.

“Yes, yes, please, I-I want it,” you babble, your head gone hazy from the intense, heady mix of pain and desire, no longer able to think about anything else except how badly you need him to fill you up.

“Do you think you deserve it?” his voice drops an octave, smooth and low as two fingers dip into you again.

“Yes,” you respond without any hesitation.

He hums softly to himself, fingers pumping in and out of you slowly, knuckles curling periodically, pressing forcefully against your gummy walls and pulling broken, needy whines from your throat. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough, intense spikes of pleasure that have your stomach swooping as your hips squirm, trying in vain to bounce on his fingers, to speed up the pace just a little more.

“Please daddy,” you’re sobbing again, words garbled through spit and tears. “Please, please fuck me,”

“I am fucking you, baby,”

And you hate how unaffected he sounds, just a slight breathiness to his voice, hate the way you can hear his smug smirk.

“With your cock!” you cry in demand, a violent shiver coursing through your entire body as his knuckles press into that spot again, hard and ruthless in his assault of your poor pussy.

“There you go again,” he says, voice fading into a growl as his fingers begin to viciously curl over and over, rapidly picking up the pace. “Being a fucking brat. And you were doing so well, too…Didn’t your punishment teach you anything? Only patient little girls get daddy’s cock in their soaking little cunts,”

“Oh, daddy, please, please, I-I’m sorry! I just—”

“Maybe I’ll fuck your throat instead,” he muses, sadistic smile spreading across his face as you weep loudly, shaking your head with vigour and chanting out the word no. Tears are steadily streaming down your soft cheeks and Tomura’s not sure he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight. It makes his cock throb, laughing at the way you moan wantonly when he grinds it against you again.

“You’re a greedy little slut, y’know that?” he whispers in your ear as the tempo of his thrusts increase more. “You’re lucky daddy’s giving you anything at all after the tone you used in the kitchen,”

“Bu-But I took my punishment!”

“Oh, my poor baby,” his voice is sickly sweet, fake and syrupy and absolutely dripping with derision. “Poor thing, has to take daddy’s fingers instead of his cock, poor thing has to have her tight little pussy stretched out before she can take my cock, you poor fucking thing,” a hand collides with your ass, the resounding slap! of your skin against his palm ringing in your ears, a pretty handprint already beginning to form on your abused skin.

You nearly scream, cutting yourself off midway to bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to leave little purple indents in the flesh, breathing out harshly through your nose.

“Insatiable little whore, thinking she’s entitled to my cock,” he spits, thumb finally finding your clit and rubbing quick circles into it. He can tell you’re close, pussy pulsing around his fingers, entire body jolting with each swipe of his thumb over your sensitive bud.

“Feet apart, damn it,” he growls as he kicks at your ankles, forcing your legs to spread again.

Teeth bite into your tongue, refraining from nearly blurting out that you can’t help it, it’s too much, the pleasure is practically blinding, your thighs instinctually squeezing around his wrist.

And, God, you’re so close. He knows, of course, is able to read every micro-expression perfectly—every hitch in your breath, every mewl bubbling past your lips, every twitch, jerk, quiver of your body—and every time you’re teetering on that edge, he stops, slows his pace, takes his thumb away completely, until you’re a sweaty, shuddering mess, until you’ve gone dazed and numb from how badly you need to cum.

Finally, finally, when he thinks he’s tortured you enough, when your legs are nothing but trembling jello, when you’ve been fucked stupid by just his fingers alone, vocabulary seemingly reduced to the words daddy and cock—finally he removes his fingers and pushes the head in, and it stings a bit as your cute little cunt struggles to stretch around him.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” he breathes out, as if he isn’t the one who doesn’t ever fuck you with more than two fingers even though he knows that the girth of his fingers are, obviously, no match for the girth of his cock. Merely able to whine in response, you impatiently push your hips back, and then he really fucking snaps.

Before you even know what’s going on, your aching little hole is being filled entirely with one harsh, quick thrust.

He sets a ruthless pace immediately, growling about how much of a little cockslut you are, how you’re practically starving for his cum, how his cock must be all you dumb little brain can think about.

Your sweet cunt is clenching around him after only three drags of his cock against your spot, and the laugh he barks out is nothing short of vicious. His thrusts don’t slow, fucking you right through your orgasm, grunting about how pathetically easy it is to make you gush all over him.

The legs of the table screech as they scrape against the hardwood, Tomura moving the entire piece of furniture with the force of his powerful thrusts. And all you can do it take it, eyes rolling back as your fingers grip the edges of the table again, desperately trying to keep your legs from giving out entirely, body gone limp and bouncing vehemently as his hips piston into you.

Then he’s spilling himself into you, spurt after spurt of hot cum filling you up as his hips stutter, cock pulsing, strands of silvery-blue hair stuck to his forehead and neck.

Christ, you look so gorgeous all fucked out from his fingers and his cock, thick cum leaking out of you and down your inner thigh. The head of his cock drags over your ass, smearing excess cum across your skin, an extra little reminder that you are his, that you belong to him.

It glitters under the low light of the dining room—the sun’s almost completely sunk below the horizon now, the dim neon glow of the city spilling into the penthouse through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Mine,” he says softly, just a huff of breath forced from his heaving chest, thumb swiping though the cum and rubbing it into the deep, swollen welts.

Yes, you think, too far gone to use your words, throat sore and raw from your crying. Yours, forever.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #bnha #mha #bnha smut #shigaraki #tomura smut #tw degradation #tw violence #tw gore #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw murder #tw toxic relationship

672 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 4 years ago

Text

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

acotar tag list

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthankz @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @perseusannabeth @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp @tothestarswholistentodreamers

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ansgt #modern au #acosf #acotar #acotar fic #nessian angst #julemmaes writing

134 notes · View notes

btxtreads · 4 years ago

Text

Stuck on You

CHAPTER TWELVE: NOT A LOVE SONG

↳ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader

↳ word count: 1.8k words

↳ rating: G

↳ genre: fluff, soobin is an annoying little shit.... anNOYINGLY CUTE

With sweaty palms and a determined mind, Y/N stomped across the lacrosse field. Her eyes actively seeked for the tall bown-eyed bown with the messy black hair often frolicking around the field with his lacrosse stick.

Her eyes landed on Soobin, whose hands were slung around a younger boy she recognized as someone named Hueningkai. His eyes crinkled as he snorted with laughter at something the younger said, unaware of the approaching girl.

“Hyung, I think someone’s here to see you.” Another younger boy, Taehyun, said to Soobin as she approached.

Soobin’s head perked up, a smile on his face as he swiveled around to greet the girl.

“Hey!” He cheered as the girl slowed to a stop in front of her. “What’s up?”

The girl hesitated as Soobin continues to smile, patiently waiting for her to speak.

“I—I changed my mind.” Y/N mumbled. “About the thing you said a few days ago.”

Taehyun immediately groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation as Hueningkai muffled his laughter. Soobin only grinned, tilting his head.

“What about it?” Soobin asked, smirking as he fiddled with the net on his lacrosse stick with a hum.

Y/N smiled irritably at the boy’s nonchalant act before sighing as the boy looked over at her once more.

“Let’s date, Soobin.”

Soobin didn’t reply. He only giggled once more, lips upturned as he passed his lacross stick to Hueningkai. He took two bold steps forward before he grasped Y/N’s hips and pulled her flush against him.

“Okay,” Soobin said before closing his eyes, leaning down and crashing his lips roughly against hers.

Y/N’s hands reached up to course through his hair as she responds to his kiss, head tilting to the side as he deepens the kiss even more—grip loosening on her waist and traveling to her hips as they pulled away.

Y/N burned bright red as she lowered her hands from his hair to rest on his shoulders. Equally as red-faced, Soobin shot her a grin as he fiddled with the belt-loops on her pants.

“You’re a nice kisser.” Soobin said softly, making Y/N sputter out.

“Thank you, you too.” she squeaked as she slowly pulled away. “Haha, I gotta get to class.”

Taehyun, who was watching the whole scene with Hueningkai a few feet away, spoke up.

“Y/N, class does not start for 2 hours.” Taehyun raised an eyebrow making Y/N blush redder.

“Uh, I’m teaching.”

“You’re teaching?” Soobin asked, hands still on her hips.

“Look, that’s Yeonjun!” Y/N laughed awkwardly as a mop of pink hair appeared by the bleachers. “Bye!”

Soobin chuckled as Y/N shot off towards the pink-haired male, stumbling over her feet. Taehyun pocketed his hands, raising his eyebrows at Soobin. Hueningkai sighed and shoved the lacrosse stick back over onto the tall boy.

“You really did it, huh?” Taehyun snorted shaking his head as Soobin grinned.

“Isn’t my girlfriend so cute?”

On the lunch period of that very same day, Soobin found himself lounging on a picnic table under the shade of some trees on the school field. Sitting across him is Y/N, pulling out a sheet of paper.

“Okay, so let’s draft up some fake-dating ground rules.” Y/N nodded to herself as she searched her bag for a pen.

Soobin rolled his eyes with a grin, placing a pen on the table as he sipped on a jumbo cup of soda.

“Where’s Yeonjun hyung today?”

“He’s in detention with Hueningkai, they made their experiment explode again.” Y/N replied curtly, before picking up the pen.

“That happened to me once.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she repeated her previous words.

“Ground rules.”

“Why make some?” Soobin wondered. “That takes all the fun out of it.”

“God, I’m dating an idiot.” Y/N mumbled as she wrote CONTRACT on the paper.

“Hey, I’m pretty smart.” Soobin shrugged.

Y/N sighed, ignoring the boy as she thought of the first rule.

“No kissing.”

Soobin’s eyes widened comically, mouth forming into an immediate pout as he whined.

“Why not?”

“Look, Bin.” Y/N sighed, ignoring the way the boy brightened up at the nickname. “I’ve never actually had a relationship before other than Yeonjun—and it was a good relationship, okay? I just wanna keep all my memories of dating good.”

“I’ll treat you right, I swear.” Soobin pouted. “Quick question, did you guys have sex?”

Y/N stopped, raising her eyebrows at the boy.

“Why is this even a question?”

“You’re talking like a virgin.” Soobin shrugged, making the girl scoff.

“I’m not.”

“So, you did have sex?” Soobin tilted his head making Y/N groan.

“Why are you so curious about this?”

“Because we’re best friends and you’re fake girlfriend,” Soobin explained. “Best friends know about this stuff.”

“My best friend is Yeonjun—This is a business deal.” Y/N sighed.

Soobin gasped dramatically, hand on his chest as his face contorted into a deep frown. Y/N groaned internally as the boy turned his head over to the side, eyes casting off into the distance.

“It hurts.”

Y/N set the pen down, propping her head on her palm as she observed the theatrics of the tall boy. Soobin turned back to the girl with a smile, raising his eyebrow.

“What’s up?”

“You know, I always thought that you were the soft, shy boy.” Y/N said, smiling softly.

“What, are you falling in love with me?” Soobin teased, making the girl drop her smile with a sigh.

“Nevermind.” Y/N sighed, shaking her head and picking up the pen to write down the rule. “No kissing.”

“Non-negotiable?”

“Nope.” Y/N shook her head.

“But we’re dating?” Soobin asked. “How can we convince them we’re dating if I don’t kiss you?”

“Kiss my cheek or something,” Y/N shrugged. “Just not the lips. Also you can do something cute, hands in my pockets or something—Very Molly Ringwald.”

Soobin tilted his head.

“That’s so lame.”

“What?” the girl asked. “It’s a romcom classic? Sixteen Candles—John Hughes?” Y/N blinked at Soobin’s look of confusion. “Okay, rule 2. We watch Sixteen Candles.”

Soobin only shrugged, continuing to sip on his soda as Y/N continued onto the next rule.

“Rule 3—don’t tell anyone we aren’t really dating, except for Yeonjun—I already told them, and Taehyun and Kai suggested it, so.”

“First rule of fight club—don’t tell anyone about fight club.” Soobin nodded along, as if reciting a memorized line.

“What?”

Soobin blinked over at Y/N.

“Have you never…” At a shake of Y/N’s head, Soobin winced and grabbed the pen from her hold. “Rule 2 add-on. We have to watch Fight Club.”

Y/N chuuckled at Soobin’s sloppy writing, about to take the contract back when Soobin continued to the next rule.

“Number 4, you have to go to all the parties with me.” Y/N opened her mouth to protest but Soobin only shook his head. “Yeonjun-hyung goes all the time, and I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“Fine.” Y/N acquiesced with a pout. “But bring me to school everyday.”

“Only if you come to the lacrosse outing with me in a few months.” Soobin laughed.

“Isn’t that like the big team building that’s really just a 2-day party at a resort?” Y/N asked.

“Yep.”

“Nope.” Y/N shook her head, but gasped when she saw Soobin already jotting it down on the contract. “Hey!”

“Sorry, babe. Non-negotiable.” Soobin grinned as he returned the paper. “There, I’m good.”

Y/N sighed and took a quick glance at the final contract. With a small nod, she signed at the bottom.

“There, the deal is done.”

“You’’re making this sound illegal.” Soobin grinned in amusement as he signed the paper.

He propped his head on his palm and watched as Y/N filed it safely in her binder. Soobin, then, tugged off a thin bracelet on her wrist—something she always wore just for the heck of it—and sealed it around his wrist, much to her surprise.

“What’s this for?”

“A gift from a girlfriend,” he started, placing a soft kiss to her nose. “to her boyfriend.”

Y/N burned bright red as Soobin pulled away with an amused smile, making her sputter in her seat and touch her nose.

“Why did you do that?”

“Can’t a boyfriend kiss his girlfriend?” He laughed. “You said anywhere but the lips.”

Face still red, Y/N sighed.

“Fine, but don’t lose the bracelet. It’s kind of important.” Y/N said, packing up her bag.

“I won’t trust me.” Soobin said before standing up and slinging an arm around her waist. “Now come on, I’ll bring you to your next class.”

The next day, Soobin and Y/N walked side by side with smiles on their faces as they entered the cafeteria—Soobin’s hands wrapped tightly around her waist. Soobin tugged the girl closer to him, a grin on his face as he placed a kiss on her temple.

Face red, Y/N ignored the jealous glares from girls and curious glances from boys their way. Her face burned redder when she felt Soobin’s hand slide down her waist, to her hips and settle inside the back-pocket of her jeans. With another grin, he lowered his lips to her ear with a smile.

“Am I doing it right, babe?”

Y/N cracked a small smile.

“Is there really a right or wrong in this situation, Bin?”

Soobin chuckles before pulling his hand from her pocket, twirling her around to face him—wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his forehead on ehrs.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Y/N giggled, cupping his face in her hands. “This is cheesy.”

“I know, right?” Soobin chuckled back, reaching to his jacket pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper and tucking it inside her pocket.

“What was that?”

“Some lyrics I found in the internet. Thought it was pretty cute.”

“A love letter, huh?” Y/N tilted her head. “What’s this for?”

“Don’t know, but it’s cute.” Soobin grinned, placing a kiss on her forehead. “See you, then.”

“See you.” Y/N giggled, waving goodbye as Soobin winked at her, walking backwards until Taehyun and Kai finally arrived to drag him away.

“Well, that was something.” Yeonjun smirked as he appeared, arm leaning on Y/N’s head.

“Fuck off, Choi.” Y/N sighed as Yeonjun pulled her away—willing herself not to think about Soobin’s letter.

Against her will, she pulled it out slightly and peeked at the words.

You’re always on my mind, I think about you all the time.

With a small smile, she shoved it back in her pocket and willed it out of her mind.

Not a love song. Definitely not a love song.

211 notes · View notes

qyllenhaal · 4 years ago

Text

the magic hour ❛ the devil I know ❜

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k~

warnings: 18+ only!!! handjob & age gap (Chris is at least in his late 40s/early 50s while reader is in her mid to late 20s)

A/N: Here is a short little blurb I wrote. Next week I plan on posting a fic where a new person inserts this messy universe. Another fic for a new person will probably be coming next weekend too!

Enjoy!

7 o'clock was a magical hour. Fall was quickly approaching so the sky was usually dark a few minutes after. Most of the people have left the building and the halls were quiet.

Y/n was pressed into Chris' side, her hand moving rapidly around his length. Her bracelets rattled together to her annoyance but Chris liked for her to keep them on since he was the one who bought them for her.

"We all went in with the same plan, but that dickhead fucked everything up."

He just wouldn't shut up.

Chris just came back from D.C. and the stress was evident on his face. That's why Y/n was trying to calm him down with her hand. She gave him a temporary distraction when she first played with his zipper then pulled him out of his pants. However, he had trouble pushing his grievances to the side for just one minute.

"Does that make you mad daddy?" Her grip tightened and he groaned. Y/n hoped she was going to get his full attention by doing that but his thoughts still wandered over to his presiding anger.

He only stopped rambling when a finger danced on his cheek and forced him to look in Y/n's eyes.

"You know I really, really desire you and I'd love to shit on other politicians with you. But please let me get you off.

Chris looked at her, annoyed for a split second, and he gruffed. But he wasn't going to stop her from wanting to get him off. He'd be stupid to do so when they didn't already have as much intimae time as it was. He relaxed against the back of his office's couch. Once he shut his mouth, he was truly able to feel just how she was doing her best to make him feel good. A look of concentration on her face brought a small smile to his.

"Just like that. Such a good girl for me, trying to make me feel good. You're an angel." He kissed her cheek and Y/n felt blinded by the praise.

Chris felt like he was going to explode. it had been days, almost a week, since he had relief. He tried to get himself off in that house he has in D.C. Thoughts of Y/n flashed through his mind but it only reminded him that he was becoming dependent on her -- even to get off.

Y/n loved feeling him pulse underneath her hand. She could see the cogs in his head still turning, but at least he was silent and in the moment with her. She loved that it was her that could reduce him to nothing. He grunted when she would add more pressure.

"I'm going to fuck your fist, okay?"

It was a bit comical hearing him talk like that with his public persona in mind but she nodded anyway.

Chris's hips moved upward to get more friction. It felt like heaven and he found himself slipping away. The only thing on his mind was her, and her hand/ He opened his eyes to look at her and she was already staring back at him. She placed her forehead on his and he reveled in her closeness.

"Please cum for me?" her voice was small and pleading as if she was on the receiving end of pleasure. But seeing him with his mouth open and feeling the weight of his cock in her hand made her wet.

"Want me to make a mess on your hand Button?"

"Yes, please cum!" Her begging made Chris smirk. "I want to see you cum!"

He made her feel desperate for it. Just a few minutes ago she was telling him to shut the fuck up now she was begging for him to cum all over her hand. She just wanted to see Chris' face contort in pleasure and hear those cries spill from his lips; it's her favorite thing in the world.

His hips stilled and white liquid spurted from the tip of his cock. He grunted while Y/n sighed lovingly. Drops of white coated and warmed her hand. She still stroked him, milking him for all he was worth until he was grabbing her wrist to stop her.

She loved to hear him sighing and trying to catch his breath. There was always a lost look in his eyes when he came because of her. That familiar gaze always came back when he locked eyes with her and a smile always spread across his lips.

"You're incredible."

The pat he gave her thigh was weak. Chris looked down at her messy hand and back to her face, waiting for her next move. She still had her hand wrapped around him but her grip was looser now.

Y/n let him go and brought her covered hand up to her mouth. Her tongue darted out to slide against the skin on her hand, collecting his cum onto her tongue. Chris watched her doing something so filthy and groaned. He felt his cock twitch but he tucked himself away and zipped himself up.

"If Paul is giving you a hard time then let me know. I know one of his staffers that can put him in his place."

"Is it that boy you went on a date with?"

The room fell silent and Y/n looked away from his burning eyes. She tried to keep it quiet, but maybe he overheard her talking to one of her co-workers about it. her and Chris weren't exactly committed to each other so she shouldn't have felt as bad, yet she did.

"it's okay...you can tell me." His voice was honeyed and his hand stroking her thigh coaxed the truth out of her.

"Yea it is. it was just one date though. I doubt it'll happen again."

"Can I ask why?"

She folded her arms, reluctant but unable to stop herself from speaking.

"He held my face...at the end of our date he held my face and kissed me. It reminded me too much of that thing you do."

Chris was surprised to hear that, but it was a pleasant surprise. He was on her mind just as much as she was on his. It stroked his ego, he couldn't lie, but it also made his heart swell.

"You're so precious."

His soft words and soft voice beckoned her into his arms. She leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Y/n was going to have to leave soon but she pretended like each second was an eternity. She still had a lot of questions about him and what this was. But there was no doubt behind any of his intentions and that soothed her.

#chris evans x reader #senator!chris evans x reader #senator!chris #senator!chris evans #chris evans smut #Chris evans x y/n #smut #TDIK series #fic

187 notes · View notes

johnshelbystoothpick · 4 years ago

Text

'NO MORE HIDING'

[PETER MAXIMOFF X FEM!OC]

WARNINGS — explicit sexual references, strong language

WORD COUNT — 1,608

PROMPT(S) — “just a little more” & “i want everyone to know that you’re mine”

TRANSLATIONS — koroleva; queen

WRITTEN FOR — @lazylangdon’s one shots contest, round four (smut); she is also the one who was kind enough to make the above graphic for me! <3

———

“If we get caught, Maximoff, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Peter quirks his signature grin, all cockiness and bravado with no trace of humility to be seen. If Peter Maximoff is capable of embarrassment, it is not something that has ever been witnessed by another human being. Certainly not by Arcadia, at least, and she is quite literally capable of feeling his emotions - something she ordinarily finds useful, but in such circumstances as these the arousal radiating off of him in waves threatens to submerge her in a sea of eroticism.

“I love it when you’re feisty,” he growls lowly, dipping his head so that silver hair brushes against her sharp cheekbones. It tickles, but the sensation is sensual as opposed to playful which one may consider strange for somebody with as natural an affinity for immaturity as Peter. If Arcadia has learned over the past few months that the Peter Maximoff the world sees is not the whole man but rather a fragment projected.

Her fingers twitch with the need to move and suddenly Arcadia finds herself sympathetic to Peter’s everyday plight because this must be how he feels in any given situation: like things are moving too slowly. Torturously, agonisingly slow.

“I’ve never really understood the whole academic spiel,” Peter says after a lengthy pause, “but damn if thinking so hard doesn’t look hot on you, Brodeur.”

She rolls her eyes, more exasperated than annoyed, and her hands find the collar of his shirt. Yanking him forward with more force than strictly necessary, Arcadia effectively swallows his sharp intake of breath when her lips crash against his own.

It’s messy and without preamble, as is always the case when the two of them can find a spare moment alone away from the prying eyes of telepathic professors and fathers who aren’t yet aware that their adult son is living under the same roof as he is, currently making out with his girlfriend in an abandoned classroom two floors above his bedroom. There is still the raw passion that consumes Arcadia whenever Peter is in her presence, but the tenderness is quashed in favour of the rapid removal of clothing and skin-on-skin contact which drives her dizzy with desire every time.

“Are you done with the whole hate sex act?” Peter questions, one eyebrow raised. He’s obviously amused, almost definitely aroused if his body’s natural reaction is any indication, and looking at Arcadia through pupils blown wide with lust.

She brings a hand up to his cheek, cradles it for a moment, then lightly drags her nails across his cherry red, kiss-swollen lips. “Just a little more,” she whispers, breaths tapering into uneven huffs when she feels Peter’s hands weaving through dark tresses and lightly tugging the strands with just the right amount of pressure that the pain is gratifying. “How am I supposed to be annoyed with you when you make me feel like this?”

“It’s all part of my natural charms,” he claims brazenly, breath hot against the shell of her ear. The phantom sensation of his words across her skin sends a stimulating jolt of pleasure through her entire body. “Now, do you wanna talk or do you wanna make out?”

“God, you are such a boy,” she scoffs, slapping his arm lightly. It may have been effective in conveying her point, but it only makes Peter’s salacious smirk widen as he grabs her wrist and pins it above her head with a victorious expression.

“You love me for it,” he states.

It is not a question, though Arcadia finds herself nodding along nonetheless. “And what if I do? I could show you just how much, if you like…” She bats her eyelids with a faux innocent expression.

Peter groans, the sound deep and guttural. With her unrestrained hand pressed flat against his chest, she can feel the vibration of the sound. “Don’t say shit like that right now,” he warns, “I’ve gotta meet Jubilee for training in fifteen and she’ll never let me live this down.”

Finally, it’s Arcadia’s turn to smirk as she glances down at his hardening erection. “Not my problem, Pietro.”

Something she has come to learn in recent weeks is just how much her boyfriend enjoys being referred to by his given name in any circumstance, but especially when they are alone and domesticated, so to speak. The pressure on her wrist increases for a second before Peter relaxes, exhaling slowly.

“You’re a fucking tease, Arcadia Brodeur.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

He leans forward to capture her lips in a kiss which is so uncharacteristically soft that it takes her by surprise. His tongue moves languidly, glides effortless with hers as though they were destined to come together in some synchronised dance, and a plethora of metaphorical fireworks explode in the small room they are encased in.

“I love you,” he says against her lips, repeating the words a dozen times when his mouth leaves hers to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses across the expanse of the exposed flesh of her neck. His teeth lightly graze her collarbone, then again in the same place with a sharper bite, and Arcadia lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a shriek at the paroxysms of pleasurable pain it leaves in its wake.

“I love you,” he rasps once more, tongue flicking out to soothe the stinging pain he had caused. Arcadia finds herself missing it, though the expert way that Peter works his tongue against her flesh more than makes up for the loss. “And I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

He brushes his lips against her palm before finally releasing his hold on her wrist which hangs limply at her side for a moment before both of her arms wrap around his neck, clasped at his nape. The ensuing staring contest is charged with electric energy, the sexual tension so palpable one could almost certainly reach out and touch it.

“I love you too,” she says at long last when the silence has run its course. “I just wish we didn’t continue to hide away like this is something to be ashamed of.”

He cups her cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the grooves of her cheekbones. “I’m not ashamed of us, koroleva,” he insists firmly, “I just didn’t want to put any strain on our relationship with the whole Daddy Issues thing I’ve got going on here right now.”

“You’re an idiot,” she deadpans, “if you think I wouldn’t want to be here with you every step of the way, Peter. Even if your dad is terrifying…”

“Nah, he’s a softie really,” Peter claims, “otherwise he’d have smothered me in my sleep by now with how annoying I act around him.”

“Just around him?”

Peter mock gasps. “I am hurt, Arcadia. Shocked and hurt.”

“You should get over it pretty fast, Quicksilver,” she teases before unlooping her arms and giving his abs a firm pat. “You’d better go now before Jubilee sends out a search party.”

They both know that she would, so Peter doesn’t object beyond a frustrated sigh.

“Maybe deal with that first, though,” she adds. Her hand reaches out to lightly palm him through his jeans, revelling in the ensuing groan he emits as the heat travels from her cheeks to her clit in a way that causes her knees to quiver. She hooks her thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans to steady herself.

For a moment, neither of them speak. They aren’t confident that they could string together a coherent sentence with their hips grinding together with unadulterated lust; their ragged breaths indiscernible from one another’s so that it seems impossible to know where Peter Maximoff ends and Arcadia Brodeur begins.

“To be continued,” he pants after a minute or so has passed. He takes a step back but doesn’t tear his hooded gaze away from the dishevelled Arcadia. “We’ve got unfinished business here.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Arcadia responds, excitement rushing through her at the thought of continuing their little rendezvous. It’s excruciating to have to wait, but she figures having sex in a classroom with windows overlooking the lake where hoards of people seem to be more often than not probably isn’t the wisest decision, no matter how much she and Peter may enjoy the thrill of sneaking around so carelessly. The soft, red lace of her panties becomes wetter with the thought.

Alas, public makeout sessions are hot in places like the mall or the cinema, not so much at a school.

Pausing just before Peter leaves, she has to ask, “Seriously though; why this room?”

Peter’s smirk returns with a vengeance. It’s unclear whether this is due to whatever answer he may give, or if he’d picked up on the tremor in her voice as she’d asked. “Because Scott and Jean walk past here every day at precisely three pm,” he informs, watching with impish glee as her eyes widen comically, “and would you look at the time. No more hiding, koroleva.”

The clock strikes three hardly a second later and Peter gives a mocking salute before speeding out of the room in the blink of an eye.

“Peter Maximoff, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Peering through the open doorway, Scott and Jean make no effort to conceal their snickering. “Might want to deal with that hickey first, Cady,” the redhead advises, flouncing away with her boyfriend before Arcadia can formulate a witty retort. She can feel the amusement emanating from the couple as they disappear.

God, she needs to get her own place. And possibly a new boyfriend. First things first: makeup.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter and arcadia #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver imagine #evan peters #x men fanfiction #jean grey #scott summers #erik lehnsherr #magneto #charles xavier #professor x

97 notes · View notes

artaefact · 4 years ago

Text

back to you.

➳ 857 words | angst, romance, apocalypse au | kim taehyung x f reader | pg-15 | swearings

author’s note: inspired by this and part of the BGW drabble marathon !!

prompt: types of love (theme)

It’s as if time slows down for you, and your world tilts ever so slightly. Your gaze widened with utter shock, taking in the figures that enter through the door, specifically zeroing on one of them.

He… He’s here.

You remain standing in the back area of the ward, unable to process the scene unravelling in front of you. The seven men are all bloodied and bruised but… Alive.

Taehyung is alive. And he’s standing right there.

The tray in your hands clatters to the ground, loud enough to silence the buzzing hospital ward of the shelter momentarily and cause his chocolate eyes to fall on yours. Emotions swimming inside his eyes as he makes a move towards you, but you don’t stay long enough. Turning around, you burst through the back door with tears welling up in your eyes.

He’s alive!

So many emotions are coursing through you as you stumble through the rooftop of the shelter—relief, happiness, sadness, guilt, anger, and so much more. You have a hard time processing everything as you fall on your knees a few steps away from the door, chest heaving heavily as tears stream down your face.

“No! I’m not leaving without you!” Your grasp on his wrist tightened as he led you to the small opening of the air ventilation.

“Y/N, we don’t have much time, and you’re the only one that can go through.” He indicated the air ventilation. “The boys and I will be right behind you.”

You shook your head rapidly. “But—”

“Bring the serum to the Boss. That is your mission.” He cupped your face between his hands as his determined gaze bore into yours. “I will find you again. Trust me?”

“You’ll be right behind me?” You muttered, eyes glistening with tears. He nodded, smiling reassuringly. Bringing him closer to you, you placed your lips on his, and he responded with equal fervour. Once you pulled away, you whispered, “I’ll be waiting.”

A sob escapes your throat while the tears keep on falling. The familiar frustration rises inside your chest once more, and you feel undeserving of Taehyung’s love.

Now you know he made it out alive, and you are beyond relieved. But he didn’t have to go through it if it wasn’t for you since you were supposed to be the one to retrieve the serum to prove your loyalty to the group. But, no, Taehyung went against orders and followed you instead, even dragging his friends along. And when a group of zombies appeared, you were the one pushed into the air ventilation with the serum as they distracted the zombies and fend for themselves.

You had hoped when you slid down the ventilation, when the rescue team came along and secured the serum, and when you shot down incoming zombies one by one, waiting for him. But that hope dwindled the moment the research facility exploded.

There was nothing you could do to save him and his friends back in the mission as you struggled against the rescue team, clawing your way to get back to him. The team had to drag you away to the shelter, leaving behind Taehyung and his friends.

What’s the use of all that combat training if you can’t use it to save your loved ones?

Drowning in your own thoughts, you fail to notice the door to the rooftop creaks open slowly. Taehyung immediately went looking for you after his injuries were treated. The doctor even instructed Taehyung to rest first and talk to you later. But Taehyung being Taehyung, refused to do so, and he’d only rest after he finds you.

And he does.

His heart breaks at the state of you weeping on the ground. He strides forward, then kneels in front of you.

“Y/N…” He says slowly. “I’m here. I’m… I’m back.”

His words only make you cry harder, and it saddens him even further that he can’t stop your tears. Wordlessly, he pulls you into his chest, rubbing your back comfortingly until you finally calm down.

You pull away, sniffling. “A-Are all your wounds treated yet?” He nods, still holding your hand tightly in his. “Why aren’t you resting?”

“I had to see you first.”

“Why don’t you ever prioritise yourself?” you whimper as a lump forms in your throat.

If it wasn’t for the truth in your words, the situation would’ve been comical as you manage to stand on your feet and cry again. “You need to rest.”

As soon as he’s up on his feet, he pulls you back into his embrace. Burying his face on the crook of your neck.

“I thought I lost you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper. “I-It hurts so much.”

“I’m sorry…” He mumbles, holding you a tad tighter.

You pull away slightly, cupping his face between your hands. “Promise me that we’d stay together from now on?”

Despite the puffiness of your eyes, you’re still as beautiful as ever in Taehyung’s eyes. He nods, placing a brief kiss on your palm. “It will never happen again.” Taehyung kisses your forehead then cradles your head against him. “I promise, my love.”

49 notes · View notes

otonymous · 4 years ago

Text

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part IV (End): Courage, My Love

Description: The final chapter. The Big Bang 😉 Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: physically aggressive behaviour, ex-boyfriends, angst, size kink, profanity, vaginal fingering and intercourse Word Count: 4237 words (~21 mins of thrills, real talk, fluff and smut) Author’s Notes: To all the lovelies who have been patiently following this story: you’ve made it! 🥳 Welcome to the final chapter in this Shaw saga, where we aim to go out with a massive bang (pun intended 😆). Once again, thank you all for every like, reblog, and comment I’ve received on this story. You are all amazing, and I appreciate your support! 💕

As always, tagging the lovely @op-peccatori — I hope you enjoyed this story! I certainly had lots of fun writing this! Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, dear readers, and happy reading!

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

The quiet is back.

But there is no peace, no relief in the monotony that follows after the man known as Shaw burst into your life like a bolt from the blue, stirring up long forgotten feelings like dead leaves animated by a carefree wind — here one minute, gone the next.

And with each passing day, hope erodes.

Little by little, your heart learns not to race as the clock above the magazine rack approaches 1:30.

It becomes harder to remember the sound purple sneakers made walking through the store.

You stop hoping, wishing, to see a head of lavender hair; that the next person to approach the register would place a cup of Pepsi mixed with Coke on the counter, amber-eyed gaze speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Days become weeks, and then eventually…

…you stop counting them altogether.

* * *

“You’re looking good. I see you’re doing well for yourself.”

He reaches for the jade pendant hanging around your neck, eyes flashing with amusement when you hit his hand away with an audible smack.

“What the hell do you want? Haven’t you already done enough?” You say through grit teeth, steps quickening as you head for the better lit part of the street, trying to outpace the man and silently cursing the fact that returning to the convenience store was no longer an option at this point.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that. It took a lot of effort to track you down and I waited a very long time for you to get off work. It’s cold, dark and lonely out here. Is that any way to treat your boyfriend? Or friend, at least?”

“ ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ asshole, and you’re no friend of mine, especially not after the way you took my life’s savings and ran.”

“Baby, it wasn’t like that—”

“Oh yeah?! Did you try telling that to the loan sharks too before they came and trashed my place? I had to move, Leto, because it wasn’t safe for me anymore, not with the way they kept harassing me and the neighbours asking about your whereabouts. They even came to my office. I lost my fucking job. So don’t come around here and tell me that I’m doing well for myself.”

Breaking into a sprint, your mind races as you try to think of a way to lose your ex, anger and anxiety prickling every nerve in equal measure. He had ruined your life, singlehandedly taken away everything you had. And though you had known him once, desperation has a way of making monsters out of men.

And right now, for all you knew, he was desperate and dangerous.

“Please, I just want to talk. I don’t need much this time, just a little bit to get me through this rough patch. I’ll pay you back, I swear, just…just STOP FOR A MOMENT!—”

You shriek to feel Leto wrap his hand about your wrist, but before he could tighten his grip, another arm is thrown around your shoulder, pulling you back until you’re pressed up against a hard, muscular chest, staring at a close up of Snoopy riding a skateboard.

“You got business with my girl?”

That voice. Dangerous and cocksure, yet comforting like nothing else as the muffled words reverberate through the tiny bones of your ear, a prelude to the soothing ba-bump of his heart, rhythm steady and concrete as the ground upon which you stood.

Shaw.

He’s really here.

“Hehe. Your girl?” The derision in Leto’s voice makes you sick to your stomach; you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop as he looks Shaw up and down, zeroing in on his old t-shirt. “Tsk, tsk. So, not only do you enjoy wearing second hand clothing, you also have the habit of picking up sloppy seconds?”

BOOM!

Deafening thunder rolls moments after a bolt of lightning rends the night sky in two, throwing a jagged spotlight on the fury written on Shaw’s face when he moves just as fast to grab a fistful of Leto’s collar. The muscles of his forearm bulge as he holds up the entirety of Leto’s bodyweight in one hand, the sky opening in a sudden downpour as your ex struggles in midair, rain dripping almost comically from dangling feet.

And when Shaw brings Leto’s terrified face up close, the ferocity in those amber eyes sends a chill up your spine.

“This is the last time you’ll ever talk to her, see her, even think about her. Or else I’ll find you and take my sweet time making you wish you were never born, do you understand me?”

Head bobbing in vigorous nods, drops of water fly off the tips of Leto’s rain-slicked hair. Seemingly satisfied, Shaw tosses him onto the ground at your feet, voice low yet audible as it cuts through the din of the storm when he says, “Beg for her forgiveness.”

The fear in his expression almost palpable, Leto looks between you and Shaw — cowardice etched onto features you had once found so pleasing a lifetime ago. He prostrates himself onto the wet pavement, voice cracking in between sobs as he yells over the sound of the rain:

“P-please…please forgive me! I’m a piece of shit! I’m nothing, I’m garbage! I…I deserve to go to Hell for what I did to you! I-I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

Leto reaches out a shaky hand towards your soaked shoes before he remembers Shaw’s warning, but it is too late. Black combat boots hit the concrete hard within an inch of Leto’s face as Shaw stoops, yanking back a fistful of hair and pulling until your ex is looking up at you like a pitiful supplicant begging for mercy.

“Satisfied?” Shaw looks to you as if he were asking about something as mundane as the weather. You nod, suddenly too tired to even speak. You wanted to wash your hands of Leto, wanted nothing to do with all that had happened since you finished your shift at the convenience store. All you could do was watch as Leto scrambled away on all fours the moment Shaw loosened his hold, running until he was nothing more than a speck of darkness merging with the night.

The rain is cold, wetness driving against your body to leech even the final bits of warmth from bone. Your clothes are drenched, heavy as they cling uncomfortably to skin. But you are too drained to care, lacking the energy to even notice when the dim light of the streetlamp above is blotted out — Shaw holding his leather jacket over your head in the place of an umbrella.

All you are aware of before your vision goes dark is the anxiety in his voice when he calls your name over and over again, how weightless it felt to be carried in the cradle of his arms.

How much you missed the scent you thought you had learned to forget.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

You opened your eyes to gaze into irises of warm amber, the situation similar to one you experienced before except for the fact that this time, you were the one lying in bed, staring at a man who sat on its edge, brows knit with concern beneath soft lavender strands.

“If you slept for any longer, I would’ve had to knock on your neighbour’s door.” Shaw chuckles but the sound is hollow, mirthlessness obvious like the blanched knuckles of his tightly clenched fists.

“What…how did we…” You begin, voice raspy as it dies, a sudden sharp pain in your throat making you wince.

And immediately, Shaw is on his feet, rummaging through cupboards in your kitchen until he finds a glass. You watch him run the tap, fill it to the brim. Feel the strength of his arm around your back as he holds you up, touch lingering even as you down the water in gulps to chase the discomfort away.

“You passed out not long after your douchebag of an ex ran off with his tail between his legs. I found your keys in your purse, so I let myself into your apartment — hope you don’t mind. Although, to be fair, I was also carrying you at the time, so it’s not really breaking and entering.”

Head feeling like it would explode as the events of the evening come rushing back, you turn towards him…slowly…slowly, afraid Shaw might disappear before your eyes should any movement prove too sudden.

Thank him. Now. Before he goes away again.

He is close, so close that you can count those long, beautiful lashes; almost feel the minuscule shifts in the air between you every time he blinks — those pupils encroaching onto gold as they expand and pulling you into their depths as they do.

“Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t flinch at your question, and you can’t bring yourself to be shocked by the discrepancy between what you meant to say and the words actually spilling from your lips. And as the grey memory of days spent counting the hours of his absence settles like lead in the pit of your stomach, the only thing you knew was that your heart couldn’t survive latching onto this sliver of hope only to have it ripped away again.

All you wanted…was the truth.

“Because I can’t stand to see you sad anymore.”

There is no smirk to stretch across that handsome face, only pain that hurts your heart to see it. Resignation heavy in his voice, Shaw takes a deep breath before he continues.

“Turns out I’m weak when it comes to you. Selfish. I know I’m no good for you; there’s no future with me. I can’t give you anything, can’t even promise you tomorrow, but…I just can’t stop thinking about you. Wondering how you are. Whether you’re eating well, sleeping well. If you’re safe…happy.

“Tonight wasn’t supposed to happen. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, that some asshole wasn’t going to hassle you at work. But then your ex showed up and when he tried to get fresh with you, well…I couldn’t let that slide.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong with me but…I’m sorry, if I ever made you sad, if I scared you. I’m sorry for everything.”

His gaze drops to the rip in his jeans, the drip, drip of the leaky faucet the only sound in the ensuing silence of his confession. That is, until you say,

“I’m sorry too…that you’re such an idiot.”

His head whips up, brows furrowed and mouth slack as if caught in a rare moment of speechlessness. The shock makes him seem years younger, lending him an air of innocence that you couldn’t help but smile at.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions. I’m not so naïve that I don’t know what I would be getting into by being with you. You say you can’t promise me tomorrow, but tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. All we can ask for — hope for — is the here and now.

“Love takes courage, as does life. But a life without love…it’s not much of a life, is it? So I’m willing to be brave if that’s what it’ll take for us to be together.”

As quickly as they came, the words are gone, leaving you cotton-mouthed and faint as your heart pounds to send the blood rushing to your ears. That could’ve been the only explanation as to why Shaw’s “I knew there was a reason why I loved you” sounded so muffled you had to ask him to repeat himself.

“Too bad, I only say things once.”

And there it is again: the spark in his eyes, smirk on those lips — igniting the fire you only allowed yourself to feel in dreams of his body on yours, skin to skin like kindling to flame.

“Are you that single-minded about everything?” You ask, the smile on your face mirroring his as it approaches closer…

“Only when it comes to not letting go of the one I care about.”

…closer…

“Tell me one thing.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

…and closer still.

Lips now a hair’s breadth apart, the gentle rhythm of his exhalation blows soft upon your cupid’s bow; a shy request. Your vision is filled with him, wonderfully awash with colour — lavender, amber, the soft pink of his mouth — and you wished you were the very clothes upon his body; saturated in his intensity, dyed in his hues.

His eyes fixate on your tongue when you wet your lips before asking, “That night, when you were hurt so badly you passed out in my store…why did you still insist on coming in?”

Shaw’s breath catches, hitching in his throat. You know because you can feel it, the way the warmth stops short on your skin. And when he speaks, the eyes that hold yours tell you this is no lie.

“Because if it was going to be the last night of my life, I didn’t want to go without seeing your face one more time.”

Love is a funny thing. Formless, senseless, yet the strongest thing that could bind two strangers. You hadn’t known Shaw for long, could count the days you spent together on one hand. And still, entirely without reason, he bled into each and every hour, crept into the darkest corners of your mind to fill your weary heart with a desperation that made it very clear that love was far from done with you.

That right or wrong, the only place you wanted to be was here — held in the arms that wrapped around your body: hot, tight, safe…

…Shaw.

His lips are softer than you ever imagined when he brings his face to yours, plush silk gliding corner to corner to cover your mouth in reverent kisses — one for each night he came into your store, watched over you from afar.

Your stalwart protector.

You tasted it now, the remnants of cinnamon on his tongue from the gum he was so fond of chewing, intensified by the memory of all the times you wondered about its flavour: pink bubbles popping in his mouth as he coolly dealt with the robber, the night you emptied his pockets as your neighbour stitched him up on your bed.

Shaw tasted sweet. Far sweeter than you ever imagined.

And when his tongue slides against yours — slow and sure as it explores your mouth with increasing fervour before drawing back just as you clenched around emptiness, yearning for more, the beast within you refuses to abide.

You like the shock that passes over his face when you move, sudden and forceful, to push him onto the mattress beneath you; the artless way Shaw sinks teeth into his bottom lip in response. You like how he watches as you straddle his hips — gaze earnest and body honest, hardening as you grind undulating circles upon his groin.

But, perhaps most of all, you liked the spark of something wild in those amber eyes, an unpredictability warning that if you weren’t careful, you’d be the one to find yourself pinned to the bed.

Because wasn’t that ultimately the push-and-pull that characterized so much between you and him? Maddening at times, but always, always binding you to Shaw like some red string of fate.

So you nod when he whispers “May I?”, unable to suppress a moan to finally feel his hands on you: tracing along your jaw, cradling your face…resting the pad of his finger on your lip before pushing past to stroke your tongue.

Every sound he makes pleases; the soft hiss preceding the bob of his Adam’s apple to feel your lips pucker around his finger to suck, pink tongue enticing as it swirls along the length of that digit, drawing it deeper into the hot wetness of your mouth.

You never saw yourself as seductive before, but Shaw made you feel sexy. Perhaps the impulse stemmed from some primitive desire, an instinctive call to please the man you felt so profoundly for that shame was the farthest thing from your mind when you pulled his hand from your lips to guide it to your breast, only partially aware of how wet you were becoming from his gaze alone — half-lidded and heavy with lust.

The heat of his touch permeates your blouse, white and transparent still in patches from the rain. You watch his hands as they play: cupping your breasts in a gentle squeeze, thumbs and forefingers catching your nipples to pinch and roll until they stood stiff against the drape of your clothing, the flush of your flesh bold through fabric.

“You’re so beautiful that there are times I think you can’t possibly be real.”

His voice is low, husky. You let it wash over you, almost frightened by how stupidly happy you become, willing the magic to linger even as his words dissipate amongst the sounds of the night: neon buzzing and the faraway screams of sirens in the distance.

A world apart.

Your hands find the broad expanse of his chest, tracing along muscle before circling the nipples that stood erect against his damp t-shirt. Each twitch is endearing, every erratic breath he draws to feel your touch making you fall harder. And when he tries to focus on unbuttoning your blouse while fighting the impulse to tear it clean off your body, the stirring between your legs grows in intensity until he finally pulls the silken panels aside, a quiet gasp escaping his lips to see his necklace nestled between your breasts.

“It really does belong on you.”

The admiration in his tone is laced with a hint of possessiveness that makes you throb. Shaw pushes himself to sitting, gathering you onto his lap in one smooth motion as he buries his face in your chest, inhaling deep. You gasp to feel gentle teeth sink into the flesh of your breasts, Shaw following the chain of precious metal with his lips until it leads to the pendant. And when his tongue slips out to draw the piece of jade into his mouth, he brings your nipple along with it.

“Oh!…”

The sensation is unlike any you’ve known before, the soft wetness of his pliant tongue a searing contrast with the cool, smooth stone rubbing against the sensitive tip of your breast in equal measure. You feel his smile on your skin when you fist your hands into lavender hair, spine curving as your legs begin to tremble.

And he had yet to touch you below the waist.

“Your body responds so well to me. I knew you were a good girl.” He looks up at you, teasing shamelessly even as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts.

“Just your girl, if you’ll have me,” you say without second thought, long past the point of caring to keep your cards close to your chest.

Something breaks in that expression, the final walls crumbling like dust when Shaw blinks once…twice, revealing eyes that shine with emotion when he replies, “For the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

* * *

“Hmm!—”

Your moan is muffled, swallowed by Shaw’s greedy lips like he does with every sound of ecstasy that leaks like you do around his cock, buried impossibly deep in your body as it rocks back and forth, back and forth on his muscular thighs…

…doing your best to adjust to his ample size.

He had barely suppressed a chuckle when you first slipped your hand into his jeans, a subtle mix of pride and amusement on his face to see your eyes widen when you couldn’t quite wrap palm and fingers around the entirety of his girth.

And foreplay had only just begun.

“Still doing okay?” Shaw asks, touch tender as he brushes loose strands of hair from your eyes, lips smoothing along the apple of your cheek to feel its pink heat. “We can go as slow as you want, there’s no rush. If it’s too much, we can stop—”

“No! No…I’m okay. More than okay, I’m great. Please…please don’t stop…don’t stop…”

Struggling to string words together, your breath comes in disjointed pants as Shaw begin to thrust up — the look on his face effortlessly sensual when he bites his lip to feel you spasm around him, tight wetness yielding in increments to accommodate his body as it broke new ground.

For you had never taken a man of that size, the litheness of Shaw’s muscular body belying the impressive package he’d been hiding in those jeans. Your jaw ached just to look upon the length of that thick cock, mouth watering as a fresh wave of arousal made you press your thighs tighter together. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. Shaw had drawn you to him then — deft fingers dipping low to trace the outline of your swollen folds through moist panties, lavender head bending to kiss its lacy trim.

He took his time preparing you, licking his fingers before he eased them into your pussy — first one, then two…curling deep until the slippery sounds of arousal told him the time was ripe to introduce the third, leaving you blooming for him even as he whispered, “Think you’re ready for me to make you my girl for real?”

It borders on overwhelming, this sensation of fullness — between your legs, within your heart. And as skin stretched to capacity to accommodate the sweet friction of his slide, you wished there was a way for the euphoria of this connection to last forever:

To the one you could never forget, no matter how hard you tried.

To this man you loved like no other.

“Shaw.”

His name is faint on your breath when he falls back onto the bed, taking you with him. And as you found yourself straddling his hips once more, the altered angles of your bodies gave him the leverage to make you gasp when he begins to thrust in earnest. The eroticism of his face, lost in lust, drives all thoughts from your mind as you drop a hand to your clit, fingers drawing tight circles before his hungry eyes.

The violence of your climax takes you by surprise, having no time to consider neighbours and thin walls as the lewdest sounds escape your lips at high volume. Intense convulsions wracking your body in waves, you clench in time around your lover. The sensation proves too much to bear, drawing out Shaw’s own release as he pulls out to spill onto the folds of your pussy — swollen and pink and trembling still beneath the coat of his pearlescent seed.

* * *

“I love you.”

Morning light trickles across your walls like the slow crawl of spidery legs. Shaw’s words hang in the air between you, a final, sacred moment shared between lovers before the rest of the world wakes.

You loved the hoarseness in his voice; a testament to the hours of noisy lovemaking you had shared in lieu of sleep.

You loved the weight of his hand, stroking softly at the crown of your head.

You loved the rhythm of his heart, echoing just below your ear to confirm his existence.

“I love you too.”

You look up into those amber eyes, trying to discern whether those four little words were sufficient in conveying that fact that you adored every fibre of the man before you.

The smile that graces his face in return is tender, honest…more brilliant than the day breaking in the East.

Your hands find his body, bare beneath the sheets. And as a curious finger traces along the ridge of the scar that runs in a broad stroke across his sculpted abdomen, your gaze falls on his t-shirt, draped over the back of a chair.

“You should probably throw that Snoopy shirt away, especially after what happened last night.”

Shaw follows your line of sight, chest rising and falling in a deep sigh. “Shitty as its previous owner was, I could never bring myself to hate something that reminds me of you. Aside from saving my ass, this was the first gift you ever gave me. And I never throw away gifts from my girl.”

His girl.

The mystery of life is that filled with unknowns though it is, we continue to live, brave in the face of the uncertainty that comes with every passing day. You had no idea what fate had in store for you or Shaw, had no way of knowing if your relationship existed on borrowed time.

The only thing you were certain of was that your feelings for each other were real, that try as you might, neither of you were very good at forgetting the other. That in this moment, here and now, the only thing that mattered was this love that hit you…

…like a bolt from the blue.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this Shaw saga! 💖

Check out more of my work here! 📚 (Please do not repost/copy/alter my work. Reblogs, on the other hand, are perfectly fine and much appreciated! 💖👍🏼)

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc smut #mlqc shaw smut #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #fanfiction #my writing #elex

264 notes · View notes

thekidultlife · 4 years ago

Text

100 Things I Learned About Love | Vernon!Android AU

Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female!reader

Genre: SCI FI!! Action, Romance, Angst(?)

Word Count: 22.2k (yes another giant fic)

Warnings: A bit of death and gore

A/N: Well, I’m gonna say sorry first to the anon who requested a vernon android au when we were just starting this blog (like three yrs ago) and I only managed to finish it now;;

So this fic is a continuation (and is in the same universe) of the Jihoon Android AU The Coldest Human; The Warmest Robot. It is primarly inspired by the book “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” by Philip K. Dick and the anime “Beatless”. This one here has also elements from Huxley’s “A Brand New World” (because I just love reading dystopian novels for some reason). I kind of mashed everything together to create the world!

This will be the 2nd part of a four part series! Next would be Soonyoung’s story and then finally Joshua’s! This series kind of explores the whole world I created for it. Jihoon’s story introduced the whole world and the relationship between android and creator, while Hansol’s story explores the world of bounty hunters! I still haven’t decided fully with what to do with the rest but I hope you enjoy this one!!

Tag List: @haotheheckk, @smthingabtlove!! (because they asked to skskks)

If mornings had any color, it would be a disgusting green. Afternoons, electric orange. Midnights, as dark as crude oil. Cities were built upon lines of flickering yellow, as streets were colored with the void of space; dark, desolate, and meaningless.

Society is tinted with the same shades of emptiness. Dressed in uniform white body suits—hair covered entirely as it was deemed unhygienic—only the face bore the resemblance of the classic human being, as if it was a mask. Serene smiles and polite gestures were exchanged almost to a hundred times; laughter was hollow and chemically induced, as with tears and frowns. Frivolity and superficiality were the main trends.

As what they appear to be, is what they are actually are.

Welcome to the West Martian colony!

“Here ya go. The case’s now yours, doll,” your boss tossed a folder filled with papers on the polyester table. “Choi quit a few days ago after retiring Woozi.”

Your head perked up immediately as soon as you heard the news; disbelief painted on your face.

“What? Why?” you asked, standing up with mouth agape. He was one of your idols, your role models; the reason why you went into this line of work.

“He’s not talkin’, doll. Sadly. Told me it’s personal. But can’t blame him really, this business is gettin’ old.”

Your boss with his thinning hair and scotch-tapped broken glasses, sipped from a coffee stained mug; seemingly too overused for years of constant coffee drinking.

Yet you loved this place—this pseudo-police department home to bounty hunters of West Mars, with its crumbling brittle plastic window blinds and its moldy paper odor—all a different world than that of the city around it. You loved how it was like something straight from an Earth comic book; classic, rustic, and homey; a sheer contrast to the minimalist style of the new century.

“So what do we have here? Some andy from the Orion branch?”

A finger flipped through the factsheet with brows raised and lips in a tiny pout as you scanned the information laid before you. There were several official photographs of the unit after it was made, but none were security cam shots.

“So, from the organization…SVT-class Type-12 Vernon. The name’s too Western.”

Your boss shrugged. “The org’s just pastin’ names on their andys like butter on bread, dolly.”

“Guess so. But this Vernon just looks someone my age,” you remarked, munching on the biscotti within your arm’s reach.

“It’s an andy, YN. A hundred years, and it’ll still look the same. Now off ya go, better start retiring ‘em or you’re gonna get retired first.”

Sighing, you stood up and brushed the crumbs off your skinny jeans. Bending over, you picked up your briefcase filled with a laser gun and a V-T scale equipment as you bid your boss a short goodbye.

In reality, you didn’t want to leave the home base.

One particular reason was that you’d be taking the hovercraft and start cruising around the godforsaken city, not that it believes in any god for as long as you could account for. The city was an abomination, a stubborn mulish creation born out of rejection of the old, ancient ways—ways that had led to the destruction of the Earth, ways you still hold on to despite migrating to Mars. Despite being physically present, and even born in the red planet, you knew your heart was still back on Earth. You were proud to be to be human, with ancestry from the noble home planet, and everything which diminishes humanity is your enemy.

—you paused.

Lips parted, eyes transfixed.

A thousand snowflakes suspended on the air as if you were in a colony-sized snow globe. You continued to wonder, because you had never before seen snow in its truest, purest form, and everything you knew about them was from data gathered on Earth.

You removed your glove to touch one floating. It was cold, you shivered. However, it did not melt as you expected it to be as it only glistened against the dark backdrop of the city night like holographic particles.

“What the—!”

As if deliberately cutting you off, the hovercraft swiveled across the air, its power flickering on and off until it was unable to balance itself, swerving up and down across the night sky. You held on to the metal rails, as the turbulence brought you to your knees, the alarm systems of the vehicle blaring on your ears.

“Fucking hell…!” You cursed, grabbing your laser gun as the vehicle plunged you towards the empty streets of the city. Fortunately enough, you were trained to encounter these sorts of problems and thus, you were able to jump towards the nearest rooftop before the hovercraft exploded upon impact to the asphalt road.

Sighing, you watched the flames burn plastic and metal as if you couldn’t believe what you had just experienced. Well, of course it was unbelievable. So far, the only adventure you had experienced in your whole life was your day-to-day job of ‘retiring’ andys, which could get a bit messy but those were on balmier days. Normally, it wouldn’t get pass you to laser a hole on an andy’s head, but if you’re doing it like ten to twenty times a week, it could get boring.

Bam—!!

Your thoughts were placed in a halt as several other hovercrafts continued to fall from the sky like shooting stars, except that people could get killed. But havoc proceeded as it did, where lines of self-driving cars suddenly powered on and chased after human beings who had heard the crash and checked what had happened.

“What the fuck is happening?” you whispered, eyes peering on the alley beneath you. Hopping on several rooftops and sliding down the gutter towards the ground, you cautiously approached the main road, seeing if there was anyone who was in trouble. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone loitering around at this hour anymore.

You checked your intercom for any news or announcements from your home base or from the AI government, yet there was none. As it were, your intercom was actually having trouble projecting a hologram or following any of your commands seemingly halfway hacked.

“Dammit, I couldn’t get hold of HQ,” you grumbled, running towards a nearby police android to alert its human command center. “Hey, could you get in touch with your district station? It’s getting chaotic here.”

Yet the android only stared at you, its eyes blank as if you were a mere holographic image. The artificial smile on its face, which was made to comfort humans interacting with it, seemed more sinister than welcoming. The prolonged silence causing your heart to thump in anxiety.

“Hey? You heard me? Tell the—”

“Hi there. I’m Akiro. What can I do to help you?” It’s human voice making shivers crawl down your skin.

“I said, alert the district station! Haven’t you detected the level of violence��”

“Hi there. I’m Akiro. What can I—Hi there. I’m Akiro—Akiro—Hi—Hi there. H-H-H-Hi-i-i-i—”

The malfunction was obvious in its speech. It wasn’t unusual for an android to malfunction but when it began moving closer and closer to you, you took a step back, dread treading on your spine. Androids made you uneasy as humans once felt ill at ease with clowns—its artificial expressions making its lack of a soul even more prominent, triggering your fight or flight response.

It continued to move towards you until a snowflake dropped on its head, stopping as if it was suddenly glued to the ground. You hesitantly walked closer to it, inspecting its dead eyes to see if it had returned to normal. Raising an arm, you reached for its control box hidden behind its neck.

It grabbed your wrist, without warning. You gasped and began struggling to release yourself from its vice grip, yet you knew how strong androids were.

“Fuck it!”

“Hi there—Hi—I’m A-A-A-Aki-Akiro,” the android continued talking as if its movements were controlled by a remote system.

You moved to reach for your laser gun at your back pocket but the android was swift enough to twist your arm in a lock on your back. It pushed you to the ground as you grit your teeth at the scrapes on your knees and elbows, but you couldn’t break free.

“What can I do to help you?”

You groaned. “Maybe letting go of my fucking arm?”

Gathering your wits, you pushed yourself off the ground, rolling sideways and then kicking the android who was thrown off-balance with your two feet. As it fell to the ground, you grabbed your laser gun and without hesitation, pulled the trigger to blast off its processor.

As the headless android dropped to the asphalt, you sighed in relief as the adrenaline continued to pump into your veins, breathing heavily from all the action. You didn’t understand why the android was behaving out of its initial program and attacking you, a human, who it was supposed to protect.

While you were resting, the glaring headlights of a self-driving car were flashed towards your direction.

Disoriented, you froze to the ground as you tried to make do of your situation and surroundings. However, just like the android, the car sped right towards you in its maximum speed, as if it was trying to kill you. As soon as you heard its tires screech, you willed yourself to move away as the car missed you in just a few centimeters—throwing you to the ground and slammed itself towards the nearby wall.

Without even letting you take a breath, an arm was encircled around your neck, making you unable to breathe; its grip tightening gradually. Two other androids—one a police android, the other a personal helper—faced you with their blank stares as if they were zombies ordered to kill any human on sight.

The helper android had your laser gun on its possession as it slowly aimed it on your head. Panic rose as you tried to remove the arm locking you in place. Mentally, you were cursing at how you had underestimated the situation and let yourself die under the hands of goddamn androids.

Silently, the android pulled the trigger and you braced yourself for impact.

Except it didn’t come.

Your eyes were forced open when you heard the sound of metal dropping to the ground. What you saw had your eyes widen in astonishment as another small disk stuck itself on the police android’s head and split it into individual pieces. In a few seconds, you were dropped onto the ground, choking on your knees as the pieces of the android holding you fell into heaps next to you.

“Are you okay?”

A warm voice asked as a hand was offered to you. You looked up to see doe-like eyes gazing at you with a curious but a worried expression. His slightly curly caramel colored locks fell to his forehead softly as if it were made of the finest materials.

You nodded silently, still stunned by everything happening around you.

When you didn’t take his hand, the mysterious man carried you on his back as he walked you away from the site. While you were being carried, you noticed how he was ‘destroying’ the approaching rogue androids with a disc-like device which would stick on their skin and eventually ‘disassembling’ them to several parts.

“W-who are you…?” you finally asked, your voice returning despite still being painful.

Grabbing another disk from his pocket, the guy hurled it towards an incoming self-driving car which had it stopping, its parts detaching themselves automatically.

“I’m called Hansol. The snowflakes are nanobots which hacks the AI in androids and cars and drives them into killing humans. Unfortunately, I don’t have the capabilities to stop it,” he replied, his voice kind of removed, which had you wondering if he was an android or not. “Though I think Jihoon can.”

“Then…this…this will all continue?” you asked unbelievingly. You didn’t want it to continue, of course. More people would die and you still weren’t sure to what extent the casualties are because of this sudden outbreak.

“The snowflakes will lose its power when its controller is far away. So far, Joshua is already gone from this area.”

“Joshua? An android?”

“Yeah. SVT-class Type-03 Joshua. We came here together, and I tried to convince him out of it, but he wants to test out his abilities.”

Having enough evidence, you pushed yourself away from Hansol and landed safely on the ground with an abhorrent look on your face.

Aiming your laser gun at him, you shouted. “You’re an android too, aren’t you?”

Hansol simply gazed at you with his piercing eyes—tempting you to retract your accusation.

“Yes, I am. SVT-class Type-12 Vernon,” he replied, then looking down on the ground as he scratched his nape. “I like the name Hansol better though, so I want to be called Hansol from now on.”

You grinned. Your prey presented itself right in front of you without you giving an ounce of an effort.

“I’m supposed to retire you, you know?” you remarked, still aiming the gun at him. “And I will.”

Hansol stared at you with a frown on his lips, obviously disliking the fact that he was about to ‘die’ tonight. In fact, he didn’t want to die. He had a lot of things he wanted to do, so many questions yet unanswered.

“I’m…I…I don’t know how to plead. The data is incomplete in the cloud, but, um…don’t shoot me…please,” Hansol replied as he raised his arms.

You were obviously taken aback by his plea. You couldn’t count how many androids begged for their lives because there were none. He was the first one who ever did it.

Shaking thoughts of doubt, you tried to reason with yourself.

Androids don’t plead. They escape. Kill.

The most efficient way out is what they do.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” you shouted back; your finger threatening to press on the trigger. “You might be using analog hack for all I know.”

He scratched his nape again, unable to give an appropriate answer. “Well…I guess I could only ask you to trust me.”

You laughed sarcastically. You have never seen an android use deception so badly.

“If that’s too much to ask, then I guess this is it,” he continued, looking at you again straight into the eyes with his evocative gaze.

You just couldn’t believe what you were hearing. For all the years you spent hunting androids, never had you encountered one who had basically given up without any chase or struggle, especially from one who had every capability to squash you like an ant. You couldn’t help the itch to ask.

“Why? Why give up?”

Hansol shrugged, his gaze on the yellow lines outlining the faraway city buildings. “If I fight back, I will hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You gazed right into his eyes for a moment, trying to gauge the truth in his words, trying to calculate if he was using analog hack against your weakness as a human being. You dislike androids but never had you seen one like him.

“How should I know that?” you shouted again; laser gun still aimed at him. “Using tricks like reverse psychology…I’ll give you an A+ for creativity.”

“I’m not lying,” the android instantly replied. “If you have to kill me, then there is nothing I could do. I made a vow to myself never to hurt humans because that’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to see anyone suffer because of what I did. For some reason, it pains me as well.”

If only you could see how wide your eyes were, or how your lips parted in disbelief the moment you heard him. It almost gave you goosebumps. The air that hung underneath his every word felt so real and heavy that you would have never thought it was uttered by a mere android.

Androids and morality? Fucking hell…who would’ve thought you’d string those words together in the same sentence.

He was more human than most people living in the city. An android—known for their lack of soul; born only to be enslaved by their own programming; without their own thoughts, their own convictions.

But here is one in front of you, willing to die for his own principles; saying it pains him to see you hurt. That is not what androids do. Not in a million years.

What the hell is he then?

You threw your arms up in the air and tucked the laser gun in its holster as you made one big, ugly groan.

“Oh fine! Fuck it! I give up!”

Whether or not he will run away or he will kill you, you didn’t care anymore. It was a risk. You blame your biological flaw to see human traits in objects if he ever did harm you, but whatever, you decided to trust him.

With a small smile and a tiny huff, Hansol walked towards you slowly.

Heart hammering against your chest, you were deathly afraid that he might twist your neck or blast a hole through your chest. You couldn’t be so sure with these androids.

As soon as he had reached you, Hansol placed a hand on top of your head; your eyes squeezed tightly shut as if trying to brace for something bad coming. Yet as soon as you felt his hand, you opened your eyes and gave him a quizzical look.

He only smiled.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

The following morning was the same as ever. Except, not.

“—last night which appears to be a massive AI hack on neighboring Sectors 3, 4 and 7—“

With eyes heavy and a cup of coffee, you pressed another button.

“—71 people dead and more than a thousand injured, hospitals are in full capacity as of the moment—“

Another press of a button.

“—and take a deep breath. Happiness is found within Mercer as we continue to ascend up on the hill—“

“What a load of crap,” you muttered, turning to another channel. It was still six in the morning and you were already in a painfully awful mood. It could’ve been easily fixed with a Penfield Mood Organ but that was another can of shit you’d rather not touch with a ten-foot pole.

“—Mrs. Kim?”

You hadn’t caught on with what the news anchor was asking Mrs. Kim, but you could already take a gander that it was definitely about last night.

“My husband…He was just…he was truly a hero,” Mrs. Kim answered, wrecked by staggered sobs and sniffling of noses. You continued to watch, wondering what had happened to Mr. Kim—crushed by a car? Ran down by a flaming rogue hovercraft? Murdered by an andy?

“Your husband a hero, Mrs. Kim?” The interviewer repeated, coaxing the other for details. You waited for the dramatic reply after Mrs. Kim had settled herself down from the crying fit she was having.

“Yes…someone was stealing our ducks last night—“

You paused.

“During the whole chaos?”

“Yes, sir,” she sniffed and you rolled your eyes. “He—he tried protecting them yet they murdered him! Those bunch of foul-hearted bastards! Our ducks! Our Muscovy ducks…they were fifty grand a piece—“

You switched the TV off, now more tired and irritated than you were when you had turned it on about an hour ago. If you were asked to name one trend which just tasted like shit to you, that would probably be the current craze over owning animals. The whole Mercerism thing was only running second to that.

“I, uh…made some pancakes,” a foreign but familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, making you turn your head towards the doorway. With your eyes set upon Vernon, or Hansol, as he liked to be called, you instantly recalled what had happened last night.

You wondered if your brain disappeared that time or your common sense simply deteriorated because there was no way you would let a half-a-million-dollar bounty money just run free. Not to mention that he has all the capabilities to decapitate you in a millisecond.

Inwardly groaning, you gave him a small glance as he waited for your response with sheer curiosity. At least he followed you to your apartment and now you have a free housekeeper.

But that was last night, this was today. You can certainly do something about it, but you weren’t really in the mood for it. A headache was threatening to split your brain into half and racking your brain about the moralities and the whys of your decision last night wouldn’t really help anyone.

“Oh, right, right,” you replied absentmindedly, removing yourself from the cover of your flannel blanket and walked towards the dining room of the small apartment your meager earnings could afford.

It was a simple place. White walls, dirty carpet, and a worn-out sofa which had seen better days. Kitchen was slightly okay—the once white tiles now yellowed with age; the grout covered in black mold of unknown origin. The view was horrendous; covered up by dark globs of factory shadows and the ever-present rumbling of the monorail as it passes by.

Being a bounty hunter wasn’t exactly a glamorous job. It wasn’t like you were the police, who, as a matter of fact, are now mostly made up of androids. A bounty hunter does the nitty-gritty jobs the police wouldn’t do; such as hunting androids. Yet you liked this job. Even if it was stupidly exhausting.

Settling on your chair, you gazed at the expertly done pancakes and bacon, sending wonderful scents of home to your senses. You wondered why you had never thought of getting a helper android for yourself with how convenient they are, yet considering the fact that one helper was an inch away of killing you last night, it was better that you hadn’t.

“I hope you like them,” Hansol said, placing a bottle of maple syrup on the table. “I searched the cloud and it says you liked pancakes and bacon.”

Awkwardly, you nodded at him and then looked down on the piping hot breakfast on your table. You continued to gaze at it, the burnt patterns on the pancake beginning to take form of an image in your head, and then back at Hansol who was just standing at the side.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, as soon as he noticed the blank look on your face, curious if the cloud made some mistake.

“N-no! It’s…it’s fine,” you replied, waving your hands to and fro. “I just, um…are you just going to stand there?”

Hansol raised his brows at your question, his doe eyes widening just a bit. “Ah, me? Yeah. Isn’t this the right way?”

“The right way?” you asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yeah, the right way. I’m an android so I can’t sit with you. I heard from the cloud.”

“Why not?”

Hansol shrugged, the kitchen towel in his hands hanging. “Heard it’s inappropriate according to human table etiquette. Besides I don’t need to eat and I don’t really get tired.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at his response. “Human standards, what a load of bull. You just standing there makes me uncomfortable. So, you either sit down or you scram.”

You could tell that he was definitely taken aback, and began wavering if he should follow you or not. In the end, Hansol was forced down on the chair in front of you with a nervous look, awkward in his seat as you continued to stare at him.

Finally acknowledging that everything was alright, you began to drip maple syrup on your pancakes. The android was only watching you and your actions—very typical android behavior; gathering data from its surroundings.

“So, you’re Hansol?” you began, slicing through the three-tiered pancake tower with a knife.

“Yeah. Vernon is my model name, but I want to go by my own name.”

You raised your brows at him, biting into a forkful of food. “Cool. You picked that name on your own?”

“Yeah. It was the name of a musician I liked, so I took it.”

“Oh,” was the only thing you could say, because deep inside your head, you were already in a state of confusion.

For all the years working as a bounty hunter, this was the first time you’ve ever seen an android want to name himself after a musician he liked. Hell, this was your first time seeing an android have preferences. Usually, they would reflect the preferences of the human being they were talking to, but you haven’t even said anything about yourself to him other than your name.

No. He probably accessed the cloud or something. Androids of his caliber usually have better access to the place data miners dump people’s personal information.

Is this how advanced the Nexus 9 really is? If so, this could potentially cause a stir among bounty hunters. If they can’t identify their prey, things could potentially end up disastrous.

“You do know I’m assigned to retire you? Or kill you, to be exact. Not sure why we’re still using euphemism towards damn machines but whatever,” you pushed on, curious of how he would respond, thinking if there was anything more to the Nexus 9.

“Yeah, you told me last night,” he replied immediately and at the most flippant way; as if he wasn’t talking about being killed by the person in front of him.

“And…you’re not worried?” you asked, eyeing him up and wondering what was currently running in his processor. “I could just whip out my laser gun and fire a hole through your head while I eat this pancake, you know?”

Hansol leaned his head to the side, looking as if he was trying to process an answer to your question.

“I’m not worried. I mean, if you wanted me dead, you would’ve done it already,” he replied, as a matter-of-fact.

“What if I’m just too lazy to do it today? I could do it any other day I want, any time I want, and the thing is, you robots can’t even predict it with your fancy algorithms,” you smirked at him, your prejudice against androids showing through.

Yet even with your provocations, Hansol remained calm.

“It doesn’t matter. The fact that you haven’t done it yet means a lot to me. That’s why I trust you.”

At his answer, you simply frowned; unamused that he rebutted you with a good response and by the time he replied, you had already ran out of rocks to throw at him. So, in the end, you simply scoffed and finished your pancake, leaving him by the dining table with an irate glare.

Hansol watched your retreating back as he began to clean up the mess on the table. He was truly being honest with his words—he trusted you, and if he dies at your hands, well, that was it. Even though he didn’t really want to think of that possibility.

It was strange that the thought of you betraying his trust hurt more than the thought of dying.

“I’m going to work now. Don’t even think about leaving this place,” you told him as soon as you returned from the bedroom, all geared up. “There are other bounty hunters out to get you, and I don’t want them to get my bounty money.”

Silently, Hansol nodded as he saw you pick up your work equipment and your laser gun in a manner that seemed routine. Before you took another step further however, you stared into his eyes, thinking, pondering what you were about to do.

Slowly, you raised your arm and allowed the laser gun on your hands to unfold, pointing towards his direction. You saw the crosshairs between his doe-like eyes—an image you frequently saw seconds before you blow a hole through an andy’s processor. A decision made in a fraction of a second can ultimately change your life—that if you simply pressed the trigger within your grasps, Hansol would no longer move, or talk, or look at you with evocative gazes.

At that moment, you had all the power between “life and death”, as he unquestioningly relinquished it all to you by simply standing there in his spot in front of the kitchen counter.

Hansol felt himself tense up despite his calm exterior. He could already see it, just after thinking about the possibility, yet he never thought reality felt more painfully sharp than his thoughts were.

Your fingers brushed against the trigger. Just one press and he will be gone and you will be rich. Just another day as a bounty hunter. Could you do it?

You sighed.

In the end, you lowered your gun and turned to the other direction as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll be late for work,” you simply remarked, more to yourself than to anyone and then left him there in the kitchen, still stunned. You wondered if your shoulders felt burdened because of the heavy gun or because of the decision you just made.

Quick footfalls echoed across the dreary hallway.

The place stunk like hospital antiseptic and muriatic acid; matching the dim-lit atmosphere illuminated by only a few incandescent bulbs hanging every two meters. There were glass windows every so often, and if you took your time to peer through, you would see rows and rows of human-sized cylinders filled with a greenish liquid; all connected by wires the size of your torso to a place you simply assumed was the power supply.

“What an ironic place to hide for an andy,” you remarked as you looked around. Your partner this time, by the name of Morrison, scoffed amusingly at your comment.

“Who would’ve guessed they’re in a fertilization plant?”

You frowned. “What a gloomy place to be born in.”

Exactly as the name suggested, fertilizations plants ‘manufacture’ children. While that is as disgusting as you thought it was, that is the reality of the world you live in. While there are a few rare exceptions, people no longer have sex—it was too animalistic, too impure of an act to participate in.

Thus, the solution to a declining population is just to make babies just like how factories make your easily reproducible mug sitting on your kitchen counter. You couldn’t even deny the awful truth that you were made in one of these factories (you know, just like your mug). And more disappointingly, there was truly no ethical problem, because the world today only worships one god: Purity, in its coldest and most cruel manifestation.

In the end, aren’t we simply androids as well? Just made up of blood and guts?

“So? Have you caught on to that SVT andy yet?”

Morrison suddenly asked, dragging you back from your inner thoughts. You took a double take.

“The what—?”

“The SVT-class andy,” he clarified, “you know, the Vernon one.”

The mere mention of his model name made you purse your lips in annoyance. If only you could say that he was in your apartment doing some arbitrary thing an android would do if they were left alone.

“Still nothing. I was supposed to do an initial search last night but after being caught in all that chaos, I just went straight home,” you lied, having no choice. There was no way you would let everyone know you have something worth half a million bucks in your dingy, totally unsecure apartment.

“Well, no one could have it easy with these military grades. They’re craftier than your average andy after all,” he shrugged, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Remember when Choi Seungcheol took almost three months to locate SVT-class Woozi? Man, I could still remember coming with him to a dozen places just to look for leads.”

As soon as Morrison reminisced memories with the former chief, you feel a bit heavy hearted. You did look up to him as your hero.

“You ever knew why he left?” you asked.

Morrison only shrugged. “Some say he just got tired of this awful job. Some say he was getting married. Most of them are just gossip anyway.”

You only sighed. “I guess we might never know the truth.”

“C’mon! Choi wouldn’t want you depressed! Straighten those shoulders! We have an andy to face!” your partner smiled, again giving a strong shove on your back. “Today’s just a commercial grade escapee. It wouldn’t be that hard. Peyton had it already detained and ready for questioning.”

Sucking in a huge amount of air and exhaling loudly, you prepped yourself up for some wonderful, heart-palpitating action.

“Alright! Let get it!”

As soon as the both of you entered the room, which was definitely a locker room prepared by the factory staff for your visit, you could already see the subject sitting quietly in front of a steel table; a dim white bulb only giving light to the gloomy room. It was definitely a classic cult-style interrogation room you’ve seen in vintage silent films.

“Good day to you sir,” Morrison greeted as he set his fedora on top of the table and prepped his V-T scale. “I am Agent Will Morrison. You are under suspicion of being an android and we will be administering this test to confirm it or not.”

“I told him so many times already! I’m being framed! The manager hates me and he’s been spreading those rumors!” the man screamed, his face heavy with fear and anxiety.

“We’ll see. If that’s the truth, then there’s no need to worry,” you retorted back with a clipped tone.

You then placed your hands on his shoulders, asking him to wear specialized VR glasses and then carefully arranging the electrodes attached to a spectrometer on his face.

“Settle down now. You don’t want to affect the test results, right?”

At your cleverly concealed threats, the man stopped his outbursts and looked at you in fear. You simply smiled at him before giving Morrison the go signal.

Identifying and hunting androids almost every single day of your life, you couldn’t even count in your head how many times they went for this flimsy cover-up story. They probably thought they were being clever or something.

“So, Jonathan West, age 35 and working as a plumber in one of Sector 3’s fertilization plants, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied, unbeknownst to him, the test was already starting.

“You are accused as the android who committed the Palmaide Apartment murders wherein six people were discovered to be brutally murdered and then embedded inside the concrete walls of the apartment.”

“Sir! I’m not android! Please believe me! I have a wife and two kids….! I-I can’t possibly be the murderer!”

You slid unnoticed under the shadows beside Agent Peyton, although still nearby enough to the subject that it would be easy to subdue it down if it goes berserk.

Watching the test being conducted for the nth time, you could easily claim to have memorized all hundred and fifty questions in the questionnaire.

Most questions are practically the same—asking how you would react to certain and usually gruesome scenarios—all designed to gauge micro-expressions and reactions. It is a common belief that androids do not have these sophisticated and almost undetectable movements on your face. Hence, the electrodes.

“I want you to immerse yourself in a certain situation,” you could hear Morrison speak as he turned on the virtual reality system. “Tell me what you think of it.”

Here it comes. Your thoughts turned rancid as you recalled the contents of that video. It was made to intentionally cause distress in humans—limbs being torn, live vivisections, disgusting lobotomies and other gruesome things that could make your stomach lurch; and more importantly, it is intentionally shown to be done to people the subject knows in real life.

Tests such as the Voight-Kampff Scale however are hardly perfect. Humans are complex creatures and are fundamentally unpredictable variables. Different people react to one single scenario in a million different ways. Even if you are looking for signs of empathy—a true testament of humanity—not everyone exhibits it the same way.

That’s why, no matter how many times you’ve blasted a hole through an andy’s head, you would always have this unreasonable nagging feeling underneath your gut that screams you might be wrong. You might actually kill an innocent person.

As you stood there and studied Jonathan West, you realized that his expression turned from disturbed to one of sheer horror. It was quite easy to know, to be honest—he turned pale and looked as if he just wanted to pluck his eyes out and forget that he ever seen what he was seeing right now. It was too real to be simple analog hack.

“Sir…I-I…please make it stop! Please, please….I can’t look anymore,” He muttered weakly, looking as if he was really going to puke big time, which prompted Morrison to immediately close the virtual reality system.

The man was still panting when it was shut down; visibly distraught by what he had seen. Agent Peyton, who was silent during the whole ordeal, then went to the man and asked him if he was alright. In the end, Peyton gave him a glass of water before the test proceeded as it should.

In your opinion, after that display, the subject was already leaning to the ‘most likely human’ side of the spectrum. He wasn’t making red flags which could mark him as an android, though he had a few quirks such as making a rather hollow laugh. Some humans have that kind of laugh, so you didn’t really mind it.

There are days when the excitement of discovering an android wouldn’t really pay you a visit. Sometimes, humans are mistaken as androids either because of their personalities, or by people who simply don’t really like them. Just like how it was in this case.

After a series of more questions and tests, Morrison was also convinced that Jonathan West was human. Besides, the processor level of the android you were looking for wasn’t capable of doing such complex analog hacks.

Even after a deliberation between the three of you outside of the room, it became a unanimous decision to exonerate the subject of any of the accusations placed on him. While you were still a bit doubtful, both Morrison and Peyton—men of more experience than you have as a bounty hunter—agree that West was human and the rumors simply might have been caused by office politics.

“Mr. West, the three of us have finished deliberating and we have decided that you are indeed as human as you could be,” Morrison began, sitting on the same seat he had been for the past few hours.

The man let out a heavy sigh of relief as he made a bashful smile. “Oh my god! Thank you so much, my good sir! Thank you! Thank you!”

Studying the exchange just beside Morrison, you made a small smile. In the end, you didn’t make a mistake and he still had a chance to live. Accidentally killing someone just because of some careless assessment was something you’d rather not go through in your entire life.

“Well, we thank you for giving us your time,” Morrison said as he stood up and walked towards the man, extending a hand. “And we apologize for the inconvenience.”

West shook his hand as they walked towards the door with you and Peyton following closely behind. It was finally over, and you could finally think about what you’d have for lunch. It’s been a while since you had some simple sandwiches. Going for a Subway down 14th Street would be great.

Your eyes found themselves again watching the man and your partner Morrison. You can’t stop smiling at how peaceful the day had become, contrary to what you were expecting.

“It’s no problem, sir!” West exclaimed. “Thank you for trusting me.”

You halted. Your smile faltering.

Those words rang loudly like a deafening siren in your head.

Someone had said those exact same words to you the day before, but for some reason, right now, those words made you shiver in dread; fear dropping down the pits of your stomach.

You instantly averted your alarmed eyes towards West who had been looking back at you as well.

He gave you a blank look.

He knew. You knew.

In just a span of a few seconds, you immediately seized his wrist, twisting it behind his back before tackling him to the ground. You saw the glint of a concealed knife in West’s hands before it flew away to some indiscriminate area of the room.

The man struggled yet he was pinned down by your whole body weight, unable to move—a tactic you learned through experience by subduing andys day in and day out.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your laser gun and fired it center of his forehead. The man lay still in a matter of seconds.

Your heart was beating wildly. You had finally done it.

For a moment, you feared that you might see blood and pieces of bone after the bright light of the laser dissipated. Yet when you finally stood up, huffing, the only thing you saw was the bright red glow of metal heated to melting point.

The two men beside you only stared at the motionless body of the andy with stunned expressions in their faces; unable to believe that they had almost made a grave mistake.

Everything it did was an incredible display of analog hacking.

Because androids are incapable of creating actual emotion, they simply react to the environment and transmit the appropriate response as dictated by the cloud and by their own programming as a means to communicate properly with humans. Using this technique and the fatal flaw of humans to anthropomorphize objects, androids are able to give the impression of ‘humanness’, of having a soul. That is analog hacking.

By ‘hacking’ through people’s ability to empathize, androids are able to deceive, to give a feeling that they too have a soul. It almost killed all of you today.

Eventually, your colleagues’ stares migrated to your direction while you were still gathering yourself.

“What?” was the only response you gave.

It was only until later that noon, as the three of you enjoyed a wonderful lunch at the 14th Street sandwich joint, when Morrison finally put an end to his curiosity.

“Say, YN,” he began, his mouth full of sandwich. “That andy earlier. How’d you know it wasn’t human?”

You were in the middle of sipping from your can of soda when he opened that question. You could only scrunch your brows together, looking for the right way to answer the question.

“Well…” you replied, unsure of how to say it. “I just…I guess I just knew. There’s really no secret behind it. We just exchanged looks and I knew he was about to stab you.”

Peyton nodded. “Pure instincts, huh?”

You knew he was only acknowledging your reason, yet to you, it felt like he was questioning whether you were telling the truth or not. And to be perfectly honest, you were lying by omission.

Because after all, you can’t just tell them that the way that andy said those words and the way Hansol said it, felt so drastically different.

It only took as far as thirty minutes for Hansol to get bored of your characterless apartment and began to get curious about the city of West Mars. Peeking from your dirty windows, all he could see were the tall skyscrapers, fluorescing still despite the morning sunlight, and the numerous utilitarian-looking factories doting the Martian landscape.

He guessed this was a neighborhood no one really fancied to go to, other than those who actually live here—the specials, the dirty, the outcasts. Even after a few hundred centuries, human civilization barely took one foot forward. Even after the Earth had died and most of the population moved to space colonies, life was still the same. There were still oppressors and the oppressed.

Hansol clutched his tightening chest; his eyes still transfixed at the smoke belching from the factory chimneys.

It had been months since he began to feel something. At first there were small bursts of ‘pressure’ in his chest, just some unexplainable pangs of ‘pain’, ‘guilt’, and ‘conscience’— it all began when his fellow android Joshua started murdering people. Six people; a family.

Hansol couldn’t bear to watch it and tried to stop him, yet he also got embedded into the wall with them. The only thing saving him was his ‘second brain’ or a backup processor installed only in him, which was supposed to aid him in his tactical assessments. Otherwise, he’d be dead as well.

He tried to save those people, but he had been a few hours late. In the end, he could only call the police. All this time, whenever he recalled that certain memory, he had to hold himself together. All sorts of things swirled inside him that he thought he might have had a hydraulic leak, but there was nothing physically wrong with him upon inspection.

Jihoon called it ‘emotion’, as soon as Hansol contacted him—born from the rumored empathy organ installed inside all the SVT-class androids. It blurred the lines between human and machine. Hansol couldn’t understand it, even until now, he didn’t have a tight grasp on such an abstract concept. All he knew is that he didn’t want to see anyone get hurt because of him anymore.

Just like those six people.

Caught himself in reverie, Hansol decided to explore the city some more. Staying in your apartment seemed to be making him…reflect. If that was the right word.

He silently apologized to you as soon as he stepped out of the front door, a bit guilty that he had to disobey. But he wanted to do a few things first, and most of them involves going out of your apartment. If he could just go out and then be back before you were back from work, it was as if he never went out in the first place. Well, at least to you.

Going wherever his feet took him, Hansol found himself out of the slums and in the middle of the busy city center.

The tall buildings from the distance were now like crystal towers before him, extending to eternal heights to the heavens beyond. The bright lights of large TV screens flashed in vivid technicolor as it sang ads for the miraculous Penfield Mood Organ, while the throngs of people clad in all white body suits walked across the glowing asphalts beneath their feet.

The thrum of city life vibrated all throughout the crossing like a magnetic field pulsing at every nanosecond; almost undetectable by an indifferent crowd, yet to Hansol, it was almost as if electromagnetic waves were coursing through his skin.

He placed his hand over his chest; trying to ground himself as soon as he felt his heart (if he did have one) soar over something much bigger than life. He tried to put his finger on what to call it, but he guessed the closest he could describe it would be something akin to what humans call ‘wonder’, or ‘amazement’ or ‘astonishment’.

“Good morning, sir! I am Akito, the police android! Is there anything I can help you with?”

Just like that, Hansol’s bubble was popped as soon as the android appeared. It seemed like he had been standing in the middle of the city center for far too long that it made him quite suspicious.

“No, I…I’m about to go anyway. Thanks, Akito,” Hansol replied, still quite disoriented from the sudden intrusion, but left his place eventually.

Wandering around the area, he noticed a variety of shops and stores, and even some that he didn’t really understand what for. Yet when he was browsing over the different designs for the white body suits most people seemed to enjoy wearing (not like it had other designs), he found what he was looking for.

Well, first on the agenda, then.

After a rather filling lunch, you and your colleagues went out of the restaurant and hopped into the company hovercraft to go back to the office. Since the whole hunting went surprisingly well and ended earlier than expected, there weren’t any hunting jobs scheduled for the rest of the day.

As you laughed at the joke Morrison cracked about how Peyton didn’t utter a single word for the first six months when he joined the company, you spotted a rather familiar figure from the distance.

You frowned and inwardly groaned.

“Boys, I think I have a few errands to do in the city center. You go on ahead,” you told them as they looked at you in bewilderment but reluctantly agreed.

“Well if that’s the case, see you tomorrow, YN,” Morrison replied as he wore his hat again. “Good work today!”

“Thanks! Good working with you two as well!” you told them and the pointed at Peyton playfully. “Better start working on your goodbyes too. See ya!”

As soon as there where gone, making sure that their hovercraft were already a few miles away from where you were standing, you marched irately at the subject of your irritation. It seemed he had moved places from where you had first seen him but you doubted if he had seen you as well.

“Mister, mister! Do that again!”

It did take time for you to finally locate him since he was pretty much easy to spot relative to the city dwellers who were in all-white body suits. Voices of children were getting louder as you went deeper inside the nearby park, and finally, you caught up to him blowing bubbles in sizes no one would probably be able to do other than him.

“Hansol,” you called behind his back, your hands on your hips and frown on your face. “Why’s your hair black?”

Eventually he turned around and saw your rather upset expression which made him avert his gaze back to the ground. The children around him (and yes they were wearing those stupid body suits) looked at the both of you in wonder, surprised that their entertainment aka Hansol had stopped blowing bubbles all of the sudden.

“Who’s she, mister?” a child asked, probably confused at your sudden appearance. “Your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no,” Hansol replied, ready to explain everything. “I’m actually an android—”

Letting him finish was something you’d rather not do, so you immediately covered his mouth.

“Sorry kids, we’ve gotta go now!” You apologized and then managed to drag him out of the park, away from all those children.

Reaching a faraway bench at a rather remote place, you made him sit and contemplate about what he had done. Hansol seemed to know what was wrong and proceeded to sulk at the far end of the bench with a downcast look.

“Well?” you began, your arms crossed and your brows furrowed. Standing in front of him like that, it only made him feel a bit more guilty.

“I, uh…I’m really sorry…” he replied, still unable to look at you. He didn’t calculate the fact that you might be in the same area as well thus his plan had failed. He should consider attaching a GPS tracker on you.

“Didn’t I specifically tell you to not go out of the apartment?” you reprimanded him. “You could be seen by my colleagues and you’d be dead!”

“Sorry…I just wanted to change my appearance so I could hide more easily.”

You groaned and sighed heavily.

“You could be killed! You were lucky it was me who caught you the other night! You think other bounty hunters would just magically trust you if you asked them pretty please?”

“Then why did you?”

Hansol threw back a question right at you like a curve ball and it hit you hard right at the gut. Taken aback, you simply pursed your lips and glared at him.

“Please don’t ask me that,” you replied and then abruptly turned around. “C’mon. Let’s go back.”

Watching your retreating back, just like this morning, Hansol silently regarded you and your response. In the end however, he couldn’t understand anything, and eventually rose up from his seat and followed you home.

“Tell me more about yourself.”

You asked one day, as the both of you enjoyed a quiet breakfast on a Sunday morning.

It was clear to you that Hansol was not your ordinary android. He does things and says things which clearly were not ‘android’ by nature. As someone who identifies and hunts down androids for a living, you thought you already knew how to distinguish a human being from an android, but considering your confusion towards Hansol, it seems like you clearly do not.

Which is why, you had to ask.

“Me? Uhh…” Hansol scratched the nape of his neck, thinking what parts of himself should he tell you because there really was a lot of information about him. “Well…I’m an android designed for tactical assessments.”

You raised your brow at him, clearly pondering why that was the first thing he wished to share with you. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, I, uh…I gather data, consolidate them and then give an assessment of what choices the enemy could make during battle. I just give information and it’s Jihoon who would give the orders and the others would do the fighting. I’m a non-combatant type.”

“So that’s why your only weapon are those disks. They’re for self-defense,” you replied, leaning back. “Anything else?”

Hansol only stared at you, caught off guard that he had to provide more. “Uh…my birthday is on February 18.”

You nodded at him, unsure how his processor actually works, because it seems like he’s been giving you random things about him. “You mean your manufacturing date. Andys don’t give birth.”

“You could say it like that, but I like to think it’s my birthday,” he replied, and you arched another brow at him as you took a sip from your cup of coffee.

“Why?” you asked. The more Hansol talked, the more you sink into bewilderment. You regarded yourself as someone who could tell the difference between an android and a human being, yet right now, as you conversed with Hansol, that fine line was beginning to get blurry.

“I think,” he began, snatching you away from your thoughts, “I think there’s just something special with a birthday than a manufacturing date. It’s like…how do I say this…if you have a birthday, you matter as an existence. You were born to leave a mark in this world. As an android who isn’t exactly ‘alive’, I’d like to know what mark I would leave.”

Utterly speechless was what you were after you had heard Hansol’s explanation. It was weird, truly weird how he had the self-awareness to question his purpose, and you were sitting there wondering if any of the androids you had retired before had thoughts like this. If they did, you weren’t so different to a murderer as you thought you were.

As guilt began to spiral inside your gut, you tried to rationalize your concerns. Hansol was just different, probably using a novel way to use analog hack. Yeah, he’s probably analog hacking you—pretending to have deeper thinking and consciousness which he could easily access through the cloud. That scenario had the highest probability to be true.

“Oh, wow,” you replied hesitantly, gazing at the empty plate before you. “I—uh…I don’t think I’ve ever met an android like you.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice seemingly curious. “I guess maybe because we have an up-to-date processor….”

“Maybe you’re right.” You quietly scoffed. Are the organization’s labs really that advanced to even mimic human thought?

Smiling, you stood up from your seat. “Why don’t we take a breath of fresh air?”

Hansol glanced at you with a questioning look. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, just a trip to the grocery store.”

Hansol had several presumptions before he arrived to the West Martian Colony, before he had met you.

From what he had gathered in the cloud, human beings are always unpredictable. They were not run by any program, any command, not like his kind who were bound to the beck and call of a few strings of code. Humans follow their “heart” or whatever that means. They are selfish and cold, kind and warm.

Hansol was definitely apprehensive. He had never met any human being aside from his creator and a few scientists who would come and go into the labs like a cold draft. Yet despite that, Hansol knew deep down, that he doesn’t hate people. He certainly doesn’t hate you.

His brothers’ views towards humans were varying however. Hoshi, or Soonyoung was a lot more carefree, though he believed in the traditional roles of an android servant and a human master. Jihoon was too preoccupied with figuring what was wrong with him that he didn’t seem to care about them (though it seems like he has that sorted out now, according to his last status report). On the other hand, Joshua disliked people. He always made it clear to his brothers that humans were weak and that androids had long outpaced their creators.

Clear enough to make him murder people just to show you how he looks down on them.

It was interesting listening to them in past back in the labs. However, now that he had escaped and had met you, these memories began to resurface in his processor. Hansol had no idea why, to be honest. Was it because he was beginning to interact with a real human being in a much closer environment? That would be an interesting theory to explore, but right now, Hansol had to focus on where you were taking him.

“—are you sure you haven’t met another android before?” you asked him, the first part of your question he hadn’t caught. “I mean; don’t you have that info in your cloud?”

Hansol hummed, scratching his head. “I have my brothers and I met a few police androids, but other than that, I don’t have much experience. As for the cloud, it only stores pure information. We cannot derive actual experience from it.”

“Ah, I guess that’s right,” you replied, realizing that maybe it was like gathering information about something only through a book. It’s likely not going to make anyone instantly good at something.

For a while now, Hansol had been studying you. He was quiet about it, but he always wondered why you haven’t retired him yet. It was no secret that he was your assigned target, but surely, a mere plea from that night wouldn’t change your mind in an instant. Humans are so unpredictable.

“Hmm…we should sit here,” you suddenly said, stopping before a stone bench. “This has a great view of the shopping plaza.”

As you had said, it indeed held a spectacular view of the massive plaza just a few steps in front of you. There were several boutiques, cafes, stores of every shape and size—yet of course, it was as drab as it can be.

Everything was white, as Hansol stared at one giant building, from the stone ground to the shops, buildings and even the latex suits people wore as they walk around. The only redeeming feature it had were the ever-changing holographic ads shown on the white walls.

“Looks stupid, doesn’t it?” you remarked as you seated yourself on the bench with a cold expression.

“Is that why you’re not wearing those suits?” he asked as he sat beside you, glancing at the plaza.

“Everyone else in this city is stupid,” you told him, ignoring his question.

“Why?”

You snorted loudly. “Look at them Hansol. Why are they wearing those stupid suits from head to toe? Look at how they’re all smiling so happily as if everything’s alright. It’s stupid.”

Hansol continued to stare at them, gazing at every face, every being in that plaza. Of course, he could remember all of them because of his impressive processor, yet despite that, he couldn’t understand what you were trying to say.

“But those are just clothes,” he replied, shrugging.

“Not sure if an andy like you would get it. But it’s more than a fashion trend. It’s an ideology.”

Ideology. He turned that word over and over inside his mind, trying to milk out anything substantial from that word alone. A way of thinking. What are these people thinking then whenever they decide to wear those body suits? Why would they do that?

Your questions seemed to have opened a whole new world for Hansol to explore. Human ideology; there were so many of that from the old century alone—liberalism, fascism, socialism. Why do humans subscribe to these thoughts and beliefs? And what would that mean to him as an android? Would he be able to subscribe to an ideology? Or had he always believed in one, just never realizing it?

If that’s the case, would he be able to find his purpose in it?

“What do they believe in?” he asked you, now fascinated.

Glad that he asked, you immediately replied.

“Purity. Cleanliness. Everything that is old is dirty, bad, and everything that is new is clean, good. I mean, I could understand why. It’s our fault that the Earth is basically a one big garbage dump. Maybe we just want to wash our hands clean from all of that guilt. I don’t know.”

“Why is that stupid then? I think that’s a valid reason.”

“That’s true,” you replied. “But that was how it was back then. It used to be an ideology. Now, after hundreds of years had passed, it had been so ingrained into the culture that no one really asks why is clean good and dirty, bad. People are being ostracized because of this and no one really understands why. It just seemed to have become desensitized. It’s true meaning forgotten.”

“What do you mean?”

You scoffed. “Ask one of them why they where those body suits and I bet you they would answer it with something like ‘it’s clean’ or some sort of bullshit. Ask why the Penfield mood organ is such a huge trend nowadays, or why they would submit themselves to chemicals just to induce happiness.”

“People couldn’t bear to feel any longer. Emotions have become so burdensome that it’s just easier to change your mood with one press of a button. They just do whatever other people do and, in the end, it became some sort of a mob mentality.”

For once, Hansol saw true despair in your eyes. Even if you appear to hate how the world is, he knew you were just deeply sad at how things ended up. Anger is after all, expressed when you are too sad to cry.

It struck a cord inside his processor, for some reason, as he felt the urge to do something to make you feel a little bit better. He didn’t understand why, but he knew what he should do.

Silently, Hansol took your hand, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. He felt warm, was what you immediately thought while you anticipated what he was about to do.

“It must be lonely living in this city. There are people all around you but they all feel like ghosts. Passing by, passing through the walls and then disappear without a trace,” he began as he kept on gazing at your connected hands, talking as if he was expressing his actual thoughts.

“Hansol…?”

“That’s why, as this city becomes more and more alienating…” he continued; his honest eyes piercing right through yours. “I’ll be your friend.”

For a moment, you gazed at him, too stunned to even utter a sound. It was just a simple proposal of friendship, yet why does your heart feel like it’ll burst from the seams?

“W-why…?” you asked, becoming more and more conscious about how he was gripping your hand so tightly; his thumb brushing your skin in slow soothing circles.

“Why, you ask…I’m not even sure myself, but,” he replied, “Maybe I just want to make that sad look on your face disappear.”

You pursed your lips, head totally blank for any response.

You shouldn’t just say that to anyone, you know?

Not to me who’ve never felt something like this before.

The sound of lasers fired. Muffled voices; indiscernible against the background battle noise.

It was another day out in the field, and you were lucky there were five of you hunting a military grade android. During hunts like this, you don’t usually share the earn; it was all for the experience. Besides, how much would you even get if the bounty was divided upon five people?

You zeroed in on your prey. Shooting a laser beam at its direction, you deliberately let it miss as the android dodged it. When it had stopped running, you slid on the gravel and kicked its feet off the ground, then turned around faster than it could recover. As you aimed your two laser guns at it, the image of Hansol flashed in your brain, which made you hesitate to press the trigger.

“YN! Watch your head!”

To return to your apartment with a bandaged forehead and a huge frown on your face was enough to let the door slam behind you. It was both stupid and humiliating to falter in the middle of a simple mission like that, especially if the reason was the android living in your apartment.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to retire Hansol several months before yet here you are still hung up and getting more and more sentimental towards him as the days pass by.

You couldn’t help it. You were only human.

If he wakes you up in the morning with a smile and some PB & J; if he talks about his sudden interest in various things with an eager look; if he greets you as you return home from work, dinner on the table and then asking you about your day; if he holds your hand and says he’ll be your friend—could you even stop yourself from softening up?

You were clearly angry with yourself to let this whole thing get to this point.

Were you really that lonely that you would even find comfort in an android?

Tossing all of your equipment—V-T scale, laser gun and leather bag—on your worn-out sofa, you went straight to your bedroom and found the subject of your frustrations, sitting on the bed and looking at the window with a rather pondering gaze.

“Say, YN,” Hansol started, without even waiting another second to pass by. He probably knew that you were going home the moment you left the office.

“What?” you replied, unbuckling the holsters on your belt and all the safety gear you had on your body. “I’m not in a good mood so make it quick. I just got hammered by an android.”

Before he replied to you, Hansol decided to turn around and look at you with those eyes that seem to gouge the truth from the depths of your being. It made you halt all your fussing and returned his stare back at him.

“How do you know the difference between an android and a human being?” he asked which made you turn your head slightly. What a simple question to ask a bounty hunter.

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” you replied as you placed your hands over your hips. “Humans have empathy while androids don’t.”

“But what if something was invented to make android experience empathy? What then?”

You blinked several times at his second question and then began chuckling. “You mean an empathy organ? Sorry to burst your bubble but that’s not even real. It’s an urban legend.”

Hansol made a side eye as he pondered what he was going to say next, his expression basically unchanged.

“Just hypothetically speaking, if an empathy organ does exist, how would you know the difference now?”

“Eh…if we’re hypothetically speaking, then I don’t really know. I wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore if that’s the case. I can’t risk making a mistake and kill someone, not to mention that if androids begin crying before me and beg me for their lives, I wouldn’t be able to shoot them at all.”

As soon as you uttered those words, you paused and contemplated.

You gazed back at him—realization dawning on you; your eyes wide with incredulity.

It was no longer a matter of if. Someone had already begged you for their life and you didn’t shoot them.

No. No way.

That’s not possible.

At your silence, Hansol never confirmed or denied your realization and simply stared at you with those powerful eyes; waiting for you to finally digest it all.

“This isn’t hypothetical at all, is it?” you finally asked, your expression uneasy.

“No, it isn’t.”

You sighed frustratingly but it made sense.

If Hansol really has an empathy organ, everything he did—asking you to trust him, his un-Android like responses, him holding your hand—everything made so much sense. And while it did provide some answers, it gave you more questions as well.

First of all…

“H-How is that possible?!”

Hansol shrugged at your sudden outburst. “That’s why we escaped from the organization. We don’t know how it works or if it’s really installed inside of us, so we went our separate ways.”

“So…so…!” you pointed your finger at him, still incredulous. “There’s more of you?”

“Yeah. All of the SVT-class androids have empathy organs installed while we were being made in the organization’s laboratories. At least that’s how Jihoon suspected it.”

“Jihoon?”

“Yes. SVT-class Type-07 Woozi. He stayed behind the labs to search for our original creator. He did find her daughter and they’re working on an experiment to test the validity and the effectivity of the empathy organ.”

For a minute you felt like the ground was going to swallow you whole. There was too much go on, too much information that you can’t properly process them all. Falling on your knees to the ground as you leaned against the bed for support, you felt like you were going to have an aneurysm.

“YN? Are you ok?” Hansol dashed to your side in Mach speed, his hand easily finding your back.

For Pete’s sake! You’re the reason why I’m not ok!!

“I’ll get you a glass of water and some ice for your head injury. It seems like it could be the cause of your headache,” he told you and the disappeared towards the kitchen, completely oblivious of your dilemma.

Goddamn it.

Didn’t Choi Seungcheol retire Woozi already? If the andy’s still alive then did he fail the mission? If he did, then why did he confirm that he retired Woozi?

And then it seems like there are more empathy organs out there. Not to mention I’m living with an andy who’s supposed to have one.

It wasn’t even two minutes before Hansol was back with a glass of water which you promptly drank, and then allowed him to settle himself behind you while he was giving a cold compress to your head—all done without complaints because you were too lost in your thoughts.

No. No. No.

An empathy organ is just a myth! Something like the Holy Grail or something! It’s impossible for Hansol to have one!

But…it just fits so well with all the strange things he had done so far! Who android would hold your hand just because you looked sad?

Wait. Get yourself together, YN.

Hansol is just a weird android.

He’s totally chill and a bit spaced out. He sometimes says really deep stuff and then comforts you so gently that your problems just melt away.

That’s…That’s what androids are supposed to be right?

Without even realizing, Hansol had already wrapped his arms around your waist. It was only until you were done with your internal monologue that you realized the warmth you felt from behind you.

“Wha-what are you doing!” You exclaimed, though still unable to move because of how he was holding on to you tightly.

“Oh, this?” he began, completely oblivious to your embarrassment. “I’m embracing you. I wanted to know if it feels as warm as what the cloud tells me.”

You groaned, struggling to get free. “Don’t patronize me! I know what a freakin’ hug is! Now, let me go!”

Instead of opening his arms, Hansol instead pulled you closer to him, making you flush even more. “Sorry. Just endure it a bit longer. The data I’ve gathered is still incomplete. Besides, now that you know about the empathy organ, it’s safe for me to test it on you, right?”

“What! I never—”

As soon as you met his eyes, you were unable to finish the rest of your words. There he was again with those eyes that just makes you screech into a complete halt. It was so intense that it almost gave you shivers down your spine.

“Do you really hate it?” he asked again. “I’ll let you go.”

You allowed a few moments to pass by—the sound of passing cars and the incessant ticking of the clock was what you could hear, as well as your faint breaths.

“Fine. Do whatever you like,” you finally conceded and leaned against chest. It was warm.

With a calm smile, he nuzzled against your shoulder. “How did you get that injury?”

“Oh, this? I almost got my head whacked by an android,” you replied plainly, almost forgetting that you were actually having a bad day because of what had happened.

“That’s unusual.”

“You could say that again. I just got…distracted.”

Hansol raised his brows at your reply; noting the pause between your words. Since he cannot place his chin on your head, he decided to prop himself on your shoulder, his lips near your ear.

“Was it because of me?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice being so near to your ear. It made you ticklish and pulled back away from him just for a tiny bit.

“You’re too close!” you exclaimed, flushed and uncharacteristically nervous. “And I didn’t get distracted because of you!”

He sighed at your response. “Sorry. But I’m glad it wasn’t because me. I’ll be troubled if I distract you from your work.”

Pursing your lips, you only returned to your original position in silence. You have been distracted me from work since the beginning.

“Maybe I can help you?” Hansol continued talking when you didn’t reply.

“With what?” you chuckled cynically. “Hunting androids? Don’t you feel bad about killing your own kind?”

“Well, some humans don’t feel bad if they kill other people. What’s the difference?”

You scoffed. “Touché,”

“I’ll help you if you’re in trouble.” He pressed on and you could only groan in exasperation. While he tends to be a bit spacey, he can also be stubborn. It’s not like you can stop him if you refused.

“You’re weirdly obstinate—”

About to add an explanation, your words were cut short however by the doorbell. You stood up to get it but got dizzy from the sudden change that Hansol decided that you better sit down and rest.

As he padded his way across the living room, Hansol opened the door to see no one except for a bag of food on the ground. He tried to look around and assessed the surroundings, yet he found nothing suspicious.

Confused, he leaned his head to the side and eventually decided to take the food inside. It didn’t seem harmful.

“Wonder who that was,” he muttered before going back inside.

As a freeloader, Hansol took it upon himself the responsibility of maintaining your apartment in tip-top shape. From the floor to the ceiling; to every nook and cranny he finds—he made sure that everything was sparkling clean to the point that you thought you went to a different apartment when you went home.

It was easy to pretend he was a regular every day helper android since he always kept to himself at most times, and other than visiting a regular antique vinyl shop in an indefinite area of the city, he never really did anything out of the blue.

Hansol had two leeks, one in each hand as he assessed which one was the best using his state-of-the-art processor. The engineers at the labs probably never thought his military grade processor would be used in this way but it was extremely helpful. He tossed the one on his left to his grocery cart and the other back to the stall—concluding that it was already at 40% freshness and most of the chlorophyll and other biominerals had died out.

One of his responsibilities was making sure that groceries and other supplies in your apartment were well-stocked. And while it did make you furious at how he easily hacked into your bank account to access money, you eventually gave him permission to go on grocery trips for you because of how he efficiently did everything.

He turned his cart to the left, its squeaky rusting wheels making it hard to keep it moving in a straight line.

Next stop was the chicken aisle. He remembers seeing a photo of you in the cloud as you enjoyed a bucket of chicken nuggets, and he plans to make them for dinner that night. Halting the troublesome cart before the freezers, Hansol checked the display if there were any of the chicken nuggets he wanted to buy.

“This one’s too expensive…” he told himself in contemplation.

“Hi! I’m Martin of Fresh Daily Chicken! How may I help you?”

And there were those androids again.

Hansol knew they were just following their program but it was getting on his nerves. They kept on bothering him every single time he went out that it was very tempting to just dissemble them in front of his eyes.

“I’m fine, Martin. You can go help someone else,” he replied, wondering if there was an edge to his tone as he returned the chicken back to the freezer.

Instead of leaving though, Martin gripped Hansol’s arm tightly, as the other stopped and glared at the android with suspicion. In a beat, Hansol flicked his hand away and stood still for a moment, assessing the situation at hand. Nanoseconds pass, he finally realized what was happening.

“Joshua. What are you doing here?”

His voice was filled with animosity; his eyes like fire flickering. Hansol knew his brother was up to no good as soon as he showed up using a hacked android.

“Sharp as ever, aren’t we?” the android replied, the tone of its usual monotonous voice reflecting the malice of the hacker behind it all. “I guess I should expect no less from an android made to evaluate things.”

Hansol wasn’t having any of this small talk. “If you don’t have anything important to say, I’m leaving.”

“And what? Play house with your bounty hunter?” the android sneered. “She doesn’t trust you as much as you trust her, you know?”

Hansol threw daggers at the android with his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

It made a rather hollow chuckle. “Did you forget how despicable humans are? She’s planning on retiring you and your pleading won’t help you now. That’s why…”

“That’s why what?” Hansol felt uneasy.

“That’s why I’ll help you finish her off first.”

Like the wind howling, the android’s words felt like a siren blaring right into his ears. If he had any blood, it would’ve been boiling by now. If only looks could kill, the android would’ve been long dead.

“No. I don’t need your help and I never will. Get fuck out of here before I—”

“Fine, fine,” it responded rather dismissively, unperturbed by Hansol’s threats. “But if you need me, I’m just one call away.”

And just like that, Joshua disappeared. “Hi! I’m Martin of Fresh Daily Chicken! How may I help you?”

Hnasol sighed and returned to his grocery shopping.

“Empathy organ?”

A boisterous laugh was all you could hear across the otherwise silent donut shop. You frowned, clearly annoyed.

“Didn’t know ya believe in those bullshit urban legends, YN.” Your boss replied, crumbs falling down his shirt, and thus has been looked at disgustedly by the people around you.

“Just answer the damn question, please,” you replied, giving him a not-too-pleased expression.

“What can I say?” he shrugged, “It ain’t real.”

You hold off clicking your tongue, and instead averted your gaze to the window beside you, towards the quiet concrete and asphalt streets of West Mars. Thinking that you could achieve something by bribing your boss with donuts, was a dashed dream. He easily dismissed the notion, now munching on some more donuts you had bought with your own pay.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s real or not. I just want to hear what you know about it,” you insisted, pushing your plate of donuts to his side.

He gulped in some coffee. “Well, for one, we don’t know where it is. Rumors say it was made by an engineer in the org, and they died without telling anyone.”

An engineer in the org? You felt like you have two pieces of the puzzle right below your nose, yet you couldn’t wad through the multitude of memories you had.

“Some say it was silently waiting in that engineer’s lab, but not gonna lie, doll, I myself don’t think it’s in there. Can’t be too easy,” he eagerly chomped on a bavarian. “It was prolly never built, kinda a blueprint of some sort.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Your boss chuckled again. “It’s just not possible! Look, have you ever heard of the phrase ‘good in theory but not in practice’? It’s just like that. You can’t build something science can’t even understand.”

You slumped on your chair, disappointed at his replies.

“C’mon now, doll. Stop digging around urban legends and focus on getting more andys to retire,” he continued when you didn’t reply. “Besides, you still got that SVT andy on your plate, don’t ya? Better set your eyes on that. These military grades ain’t just your ordinary tin foil man.”

Sighing, you silently berated yourself for letting this situation go out of hand.

“Alright. I’m still working on it though.”

You really weren’t. The fact that Hansol was still alive and kicking after several months since you the assignment dropped to your lap was proof that you were procrastinating. And becoming weaker.

You cursed yourself.

“Just a little warning for you. These andys, like the SVT line, are notoriously good at analog hacking. So, do be careful with handling them. Just because they told you you’re friends, ain’t gonna stop them from killin’ you when it suits them. They’re smarter than you’d expect.”

Pursing your lips, you felt your boss’ words weigh down upon you like a pile of stones.

You shouldn’t have trusted Hansol.

It was a gamble you shouldn’t have made in the first place.

The sun was already high and bright; blinding your eyes with its garish lighting as you stood before an android you just made into Swiss cheese with the number of holes you created a few seconds ago. Kicking off the dead weight, you decided to find the other one.

Another day out in the field means another chance to falter and fail even in a simple mission. You had already hesitated once and it had cost you a head injury. If you hesitate again, what would it cost you this time around?

It was getting into your nerves.

Was it truly wise to trust Hansol all this time?

Even if he had no intention of hurting you, it was your job to retire runaway andys before they harm anyone. Therefore, it makes sense to shoot him dead with a laser gun; no questions asked.

Then what was stopping you?

You stalked the andy a few meters away from you like a lion in a hunt; eyes laser focused and ears picking up every minute shuffle. The laser guns on both your hands were ready to shoot yet it wasn’t the right time or place.

Running a few meters away, you shot a few laser beams into the air; the sound echoing across the apartment rooftops in resounding waves. Your target tensed up; alarmed at how the sound was nearby.

You laid your trap.

The android began calculating the most efficient way out and then stood up from its hiding place, unaware that it was the moment you were waiting for. It jumped towards the nearest building and crouched beside a water tank, sniffing the air of your presence.

You grinned. “Looking for me?”

The android looked up, its eyes blank but you knew it was surprised. With two laser guns on both your hands, you aimed at it from the top of the water tank, the sun casting a glare over you. Lunging from its position, it made a narrowing escape as it sacrificed one leg to a laser beam.

It was all over.

You caught up and then threw it to the ground with one harsh kick. Stepping over its torso; effectively pinning it down, you took one good look.

“Did you know that it takes about three minutes for the Nexus 7 processor to calculate the next best move?” you told the android, despite knowing it wouldn’t really listen to you. “Enough time for me to set you up.”

“In the past, it only took you a minute.”

The android rebuked you, making you scrunch up your brows. How the hell did it know that?

“You’ve grown weaker, bounty hunter,” it continued, a grin creeping up to its lips; making its rather soulless expression more unnerving. “Could it be that you like us now?”

“Shut up,” you replied, aiming the two guns at its head. “That’s not going to stop me from retiring you.”

“What if I beg for my life then? Will you spare me now?”

You stopped.

The hands clutching your guns became unsteady. Its words zeroed in at your predicament just like how you had obliterated its leg with numerous laser beams—mocking you; taunting you with your weakness for Hansol.

“You think you could separate androids into your moralistic categories of good and bad? That android is only using you, you know? Like poison, gradually weakening your resolve until you could no longer pick up your laser gun. And when that time comes, he would strike and he will kill you.”

Your temper flared up.

You pressed the triggers furiously, your foot holding it still as laser after laser shot through its head. Even if the head was no longer recognizable, you continued to shoot just to please the rage and frustration weighing inside of you.

As the concrete beneath your feet began to weaken, you eventually stopped; realizing what you were doing all this time. Breaths heavy and eyes wide, you stared at the android which became, more or less, bits and pieces of burnt metal and hydraulic cables.

It still irritated you, so kicked it as far as you could so you wouldn’t be able to see it.

When you returned to the office to hand over the post-hunt report, Morrison was waiting for you t your desk; the serious and alarmed look on his face making you anxious.

“Morrison,” you acknowledged him, tossing your report to your table as well as your various work equipment. “What brings you here?”

“YN. We need to talk,” he replied, his tone of voice not so different that you had originally assumed which only heightened the tension of the situation.

As you followed behind him, you wondered what he wanted—was it about your dwindling work performance? Are you getting fired?

You only knew the answer to your questions when he stopped by a deserted hallway and then faced you. It was all your fears could ever hope for.

“Please tell me YN, that the person living in your apartment isn’t the SVT andy, Vernon.”

Your heart, along with your gut immediately dropped.

“W-what…”

“A few months ago, I saw you with someone walking around the city. I thought it was your boyfriend so I ignored it. The other day however, I heard you got injured so I went and delivered you dinner. That’s when I realized that the person you’re with was the SVT andy.”

If only the ground could swallow you whole. If only you could disappear at that exact moment. You had no explanation. You had been found out. You had nothing in your defense and the only thing you could do was hang your head low and avert your gaze out of guilt and shame.

“YN…”

“I’m sorry…” you replied, voice just above a whisper.

“Is that andy holding you hostage? Is it threatening you?” Morrison asked out of concern as soon as he saw you. “I could help—”

“No. This is my own doing,” you replied. “This is my own fault.”

“Then…why?” he asked. “Among all of us here, you were the one who hated them the most. Have you become sentimental towards them?”

“How the hell would I know!” You screamed as you tremble in both rage and despair. “Do I look like I’m enjoying it right now? Look at how weak I’ve become! Look how I almost died just because I hesitated to pull the trigger!”

“YN…I—”

“Shut up. All of you shut up,” you cut him off. “This is my problem and I’ll solve it on my own.”

Turning to the side, you marched down the hallway and left Morrison stunned and worried about you.

You tightened your fists until your knuckles turned white. Guilt, shame, anger—everything swirled inside of you like a thick soup; slowly pushing you downwards to a spiral of turmoil.

Androids would always be androids no matter what they say. Hansol was only using the way he knew he would survive. Even if it meant deceiving you.

You were angry.

More to yourself than anybody however.

How could you let yourself be swayed by an android’s sweet talking? You felt like an idiot; trusting his words, getting soft and sentimental for a mere android. You were weak and you hated it. Like slow moving magma, your rage was scalding you from the inside until you could no longer bear it. You pushed pass the entrance way and escaped to the streets of West Mars.

How could you be so susceptible? How could you allow him to easily manipulate you using your own desperate need for companionship? How could you allow yourself to succumb to such a baser kind of human emotion?

As a bounty hunter, you should’ve tossed all of them aside a long time ago. You should’ve been erased that weakness when you first began.

Yes, it was lonely. But in order to succeed, one must be alone on top of the mountain with no one to depend on.

You allowed the day to pass you by. As the afternoon became night and the flashing lights of the city returned to illuminate the streets with animations at a million frames per second, you sat high above a building and watch it al unfold like flowers blooming at night. As the dark skies slowly encroached the sunset reflecting the red dunes of Mars, you waited for the exact moment to solve all of your problems.

Problems of your own doing is something you have to solve by yourself. It was your fault that you believed in him when you clearly knew you shouldn’t have. Even if it weighs your heart, the guilt you felt was heavier.

You shouldn’t have allowed things to get to this point. Thus, you reap what you sow.

Head still swimming, you returned to your apartment at the wee hours of the morning. It was the perfect time; the calculated time—because you knew Hansol was at the living room, charging up next to a wireless charging station he himself had built. You saw him at that exact position; sitting, leaning against the wall with head hung low as a circular light glowed underneath the skin of his nape.

You knew what you have to do.

He was defenseless before you; asleep and unaware of what you are about to do. It was perfect this way— he couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t feel anything.

As you looked at his sleeping figure, you couldn’t help but notice how his now dark hair tumbling against his forehead in a soft caress, how his long eyelashes padded gently across his skin, how his soft breaths echoed across the room. Even at these last moments, he still caught you off guard.

Yet beautiful things erode and fade away like the fleeting spring.

You raised the laser gun to his forehead, your finger already by the trigger.

You can do it YN. Just one press and he’ll be gone. All your problems will be gone, and you’ll be able to return to your everyday life. You’ve done this so many times already.

He’s only an android.

‘…Vernon is my model name, but I want to go by my own name.’

He can be easily manufactured again and again like a replaceable object.

‘…As an android who isn’t exactly ‘alive’, I’d like to know what mark I would leave.’

Your hands trembled as your chest tightened into a vice grip. You couldn’t breathe.

Stop it.

He’s only using you for his own means. You don’t matter to him.

‘I’ll be your friend.’

‘Maybe I just want to make that sad look on your face disappear.’

He looked so peaceful, so innocent and so forgiving. Not like you who had been dirtied by the sins of humanity. You knew that even if you shot him, he would still smile and say ‘I understand.’

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

He’s just faking everything. He’s just deceiving you YN.

‘Thank you for trusting me.’

You screamed one painful cry; your knees giving way and sunk to the carpet in a thud. Hands propping you up as tears continued to stream down your face, you couldn’t stop crying all the pain you held inside for all these years. It was too painful.

You can’t do it.

“Just kill me now, goddamn it!” you shouted yet your eyes were looking at the floor, too scared to know if he was awake or not. “If you’re planning to kill me eventually, then do it now! Kill me now while I still trust you!”

In the midst of your endless sobs, you felt strong arms pull you into a tight embrace; wrapping you with all the love and warmth he could muster in one single action. You could only bury yourself to his chest, clutching to his shirt as if you were holding on to him for support.

“Kill me now, Hansol…”

“I won’t kill you YN. I have no intentions of ever hurting you,” he whispered as he brushed your hair gently with his fingers.

“How could you fucking say that!” you exclaimed; screams muffled. “I keep on hurting you! Hell, I even pointed a gun to you while you were sleeping! How…how could you just forgive me like that…”

“You only did what you needed to do, and if you need to kill me, then I wouldn’t mind dying. I understand that there are things you must sacrifice.”

As soon as you heard those words, you looked up to him with aghast. You could see that despite what he had said, you saw a flicker of pain in his eyes; a sadness that was accepted because there are things you simply cannot change.

“W-why…?” you asked as your heart poured out for him. “Why are you saying that even though it hurts you…?”

Hansol made a small smile and wiped away the tear stains away from your cheeks. “Because you’re the first person who ever trusted me, and it made me so happy to stay by your side all this time. That’s why even if it hurts, I feel relieved that I can at least make you happy in return.”

Stabbing pain filled your chest as if you were being pierced through by laser beams numerous times. You could feel yourself tremble as tears threatened to spill from your eyes once again; grasping to his shirt as if he might slip away any time soon.

“You fucking idiot…!” you muttered through your sobs. “You think I can still retire you after saying that? I can’t do it. I can’t…Hansol…I don’t know how or why but you matter so much to me now.”

His hand that was on your cheeks continued to caress you as gently as he could; not letting you go until you stopped crying. For some reason, he felt touched that you were pouring out all of your thoughts to him among all people in the world.

“I always kept myself so busy all this time just to distract me from all the loneliness I was feeling. I always try to be tough and cold so that my emotions wouldn’t get the best of me. But…but you showed me something I had thrown away a long time ago. You cared for me even though I tried to kill you so many times and it hurts so much how you are able to forgive me like that. I don’t deserve any of these, Hansol. I don’t deserve you.”

As he comforted you, he could feel his chest swell with so much emotion. You were crying for him, and he couldn’t help but share a bit of that pain as well. Picking up your hand, he slowly intertwined his fingers around yours and gazed at you with those eyes that easily seized you; body and soul.

“I feel like I should be saying something now but I don’t know what,” he whispered. “That’s why, I’ll just show you how I feel.”

Cupping your cheek with his hand, Hansol slowly reduced the distance between the two of you until his lips met yours in a soft and gentle kiss. It was warm and peaceful and light—as if everything which held you down were released and swept away by the cool breeze. You held on to his hand tightly, never letting go of this exact moment as you etched it vividly into your memory.

As the both of you pulled away, you gave him a small bashful smile.

“I think ‘I like you’ would be the best thing to say,” you whispered to him as he gave a toothy grin.

“You finally smiled,” he remarked as he allowed your foreheads to touch.

“Because of you.”

The both of you stayed that way until you felt your heart calm down. That night seemed to have uprooted all of your being—everything that you have built upon yourself for all these years was turned upside down. It was like a transformation; yet rather than frightening, it felt cathartic in some sense.

“Say, YN,” Hansol started, breaking the companiable silence the two of you shared. “Why did you become a bounty hunter?”

“Hm?” you hummed, gazing at your carpet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Good question. Why did I become a bounty hunter?”

“You don’t know the answer?”

“I do know why,” you replied as you became more contemplative. “I think I was just too angry at the world. Angry that I was all alone; angry that no one really cared. So, I searched for ways to release that anger. That’s when I found myself wanting to be a bounty hunter.”

He pulled you closer, nuzzling to your shoulder; wanting to give comfort to the both of you. “Did you grow up like that?”

Amused by his question, you chuckled. “The thing is, when you are made from a glass incubator, it feels like you’re an artificial existence. Even if there are parents or siblings, most of them just kind of want to play house or something. When they’re done, you get thrown out. That’s it. And somehow just like that, I ended up all alone.”

Hansol was quiet, feeling like you weren’t done talking yet.

“When I met you…when I got to spend time with you, it felt like I was in a foreign territory. I wasn’t used being taken care of. It’s always just me so, I was scared as fuck that maybe this wonderful thing wouldn’t really last. That maybe you were just deceiving me and I was being an idiot for believing that life would finally give me some slack.”

You continued. “That’s why, I thought…let’s just end this with my own two hands. That way I can still have my dignity intact.”

As soon those words left your lips, the android embracing you hugged you tighter—a silent declaration that he was never going to let you go; that you deserved better and he will give everything just to make you happy.

“I don’t think I can ever leave you, YN. I was lucky that it was you who I met that night. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to understand myself or what I was feeling. I wouldn’t be able to experience a normal everyday life if I hadn’t met you. You have become someone important to me as well.”

At that night, as you finally fell asleep on Hansol’s shoulders, he easily carried you to your bed and gently laid you there without making a sound. Unable to resist, he slipped under the covers and silently watched your chest breathing in and out.

It was the first time he felt this way. It was unbelievable.

Combing your hair as softly as he could, Hansol contemplated this future with you. He was incredibly happy, if that was how the beautiful feeling in his chest should be called—how you embraced him tightly, how you grinned at him and held his hand. Those were things he could never forget.

With that said, he had to ensure that everything would stay as it is as long as it could. Using the built-in network among the SVT-line androids, he made a call.

Beep. Beep.

Click.

“Hello, brother? It’s me, Hansol. I need your help.”

The sun was still shining like any other day; as if it was unbothered by the egregious happenings of your life. Just like how it was during your first day as a bounty hunter.

Yet everything was different now. The anger that you held on to for far too long was released to the polluted city air just like scattered ashes of a bygone age. Now you have to rebuild yourself from scratch; to start anew and live differently than what you were doing all these years. Yet you weren’t alone this time, you had Hansol to support you along the way as the both of you rediscover life and the whole point of it.

That’s why it’s important to cut the few loose strings you had and tie them securely so they wouldn’t unravel in the future.

It was your last day on the job. Your last hunt.

“YN.”

You heard Morrison call you, turning to the direction where you had heard him. You were about to leave with your hovercraft to the designated location where the andy was reported yet he had stopped before you ever could.

“Last time, I—”

“It’s ok,” you cut him off. “I think I needed it to realize what I truly want to do with my life. Being a bounty hunter taught me a lot but I guess we just overgrow things.”

“Are you sure?” he asked you.

“Yes, you could say I was happy with my decision.” You scratched the nape of your neck. “You know, I think I understand now why Choi Seungcheol left.”

Morrison grinned. “Oh, really now?”

“Yeah. I think he realized the same thing as I did,” you replied, hands on your pockets. You just can’t live with anger in your heart.

Your partner genuinely smiled at you and give you a pat on the back. “Well then, it was great working with you, YN. You’ve been phenomenal.”

“Thank you. It was a pleasure working with you as well Morrison,” you grinned. “Now, time to go for my last hunt.”

“Good luck. Don’t go easy on the andy now,” he replied while you hopped into your hovercraft.

“You bet I won’t,” you replied, smiling. “Well, see you later then!”

With those words, you turned on the hovercraft as it slowly ascended to the skies. You could see down below Morrison who was looking up at you with a bittersweet smile on his face. This business was indeed dying.

“Alright. Time for my swan song.”

Your destination for today was in Sector 12, where all the warehouses and cargo facilities were located as they enter the West Martian colony. The andy in question was a normal escapee posing as a cargo boy—which was as common as it could get.

You hoped that your last andy should’ve at least been a little more challenging. But alas, you can’t have everything.

Turning the steering wheel to the side, you avoided a tall building and continued cruising through the sector with nothing much in mind. That is until something entered the hovercraft; making it shake through the skies like a rogue vehicle.

You clung to the wheel as you braced the impact, avoiding getting tossed to the air like a pancake. Still recovering from the shock, you were greeted by a punch which completely obliterated the hovercraft’s UI and had just missed your head by a hair.

Turning around, you saw that it was the android you were supposed to retire today—seemingly fallen from god knows where to your lap. Just like how Hansol just came to you that night. Lucky.

“Don’t underestimate me, fucker,” you exclaimed as you grabbed its arm with both your hands and levered it with your shoulder to the air, sending it flying to one of the buildings below. Taking your two trusty laser guns, you jumped off of the already derailing hovercraft before it plummeted to the ground in an explosion of fire and smoke.

Landing safely to one of the rooftops, you spotted the andy running away from you.

“Hey! Don’t get cowardly now!”

Shouting, you continued to shoot laser beams at its direction, pissed that it was playing some game of tag. With a head start of a few meters and an exceptional speed, there was no way you could ever catch up to an android. The only way you could ever gain an advantage was to play the strategy game.

Disappearing from view, you hid yourself as you pursued it; minding your distance so it wouldn’t be able to detect your presence with any of its scanners. Since the andy you were after had a Nexus 6 processor, it can see you through thermal readings which had a scanning radius of a few meters.

Confused of your vanishing act, the android in question stopped running and looked around. There was no sign of you yet you can see it using a special set of goggles which was luckily inside your pocket than in the hovercraft.

As it walked in search of you, you fired your laser guns to the distance which predictably alarmed the android and dashed to where it came from. And just like that, you were able to lay your ambush—jumping out from high ground and trapping it in place.

When do they even learn? You’ve done this technique so many times that it was hardly clever strategy to you anymore.

You shot it with your laser gun, missing its head in just a few centimeters. That however, was a fatal mistake as it swerved your leg around, tripping you to the ground in the process. Without stopping, the android then aimed for your head with its fist which could’ve easily broke your skull if not for the fact that you rolled out of the way just in time.

Even if your head was still reeling and you were still on the ground, you kicked its torso with both your feet as it staggered and lost balance. You ran off somewhere, picking up both your laser guns as it continued to pursue you.

Man, I judged this way too early.

Now that the tables have turned, the both you found yourselves inside a warehouse complex devoid of any human or andy. It was kind of strange that there was no one in sight except for the both of you, yet you shouldn’t really be wondering about that when an andy is after you with a huge metal pipe.

Now that you think about it, why was it even running after you? And why did it attack you in the first place? Shouldn’t it be running away from you?

You couldn’t find time to answer those questions when a pipe was hurled at your direction, hitting the cargo container you were hiding behind and piercing through the metal. You could’ve died if not for your quick reflexes. Clearly annoyed at being in the defensive, you faced the android square on and fired your laser guns at it as fast as you could.

A laser beam hit it on its chest and then on its legs, creating rather large gaping holes on its body. When you were near enough, you kicked it hard; crashing against the doors of the warehouse which opened upon impact. In one final blow, you shot through its processor at point blank.

It fell down to the ground in one swoop. It was all over. The final hunt was done.

“YN…?”

You heard your name being called by a familiar voice you never expected to hear while you were in the middle of a hunt. In an instant, you turned your head and saw with great surprise the person you had trusted the most.

“Hansol? What are you doing here?”

“No, what are you doing here?” he answered back. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“Looks like the final guest has arrived.” A figure from the shadows appeared; a gentle expression was on his face yet there was something dark looming just underneath his presence. “Took me some time to get you moving but looks like it went well.”

“Joshua, what’s the meaning of this?” Hansol asked, his eyes dark like coal; brimming with suspicion and fury.

“Joshua? Isn’t he one of your brothers and wasn’t he the one responsible for the AI hack that night?” You asked Hansol with incredulity bearing in your eyes.

You were standing there in the midst of it all, mouth ajar and eyes wide; unable to follow what was happening. You didn’t understand why Hansol was there or why he seemed to dislike his brother. If anything, it all seemed to suspicious.

“You’re right, YN. I am one of Hansol’s brothers and the AI hack was my work,” the android calmly replied which made you feel uneasy.

“And there’s no meaning at all, brother. I just wanted to meet YN,” he replied, shrugging with a carefree smile. “And besides, you did ask for my help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help. I came because you threatened to hurt her.”

Hurt me? You dared to take a look at Joshua who seemed to notice your apprehension yet only smiled so serenely—making it even more menacing.

“Ah, as honest as ever, huh?” Joshua replied as he pocketed his hands. “Or not.”

There was no denying that Hansol gazed at Joshua with contempt; the first time you have ever seen him display such a negative emotion. You now wondered what Joshua had done in order to push Hansol, who was as kind as ever, to treat him that way.

“Did you forget what happened to that family of six a few months ago? You know, that one in Palmaide.”

Joshua continued when Hansol refused to reply. You blinked several times at his words, feeling like you were familiar with the story one way or another. At the mere mention of the memory, Hansol immediately grit his teeth; sending death glares to the other android.

“Oh? Why are you looking at me like that?” Joshua asked, and then grinned, a malicious lilt in his voice appearing all of the sudden. “You didn’t tell YN, did you?”

“Tell me what?” you answered back with a clipped tone. “Tell me what, Hansol?”

In the midst of your questions, Hansol could only furrow his brow and purse his lips. He turned his head to the side, unable to face you.

“I-I…I’m sorry. I just…I always wanted to tell you…” he began, his voice unsteady.

“What is it?” you asked again, completely alarmed and afraid of what he might say.

“I—”

“He’s partly responsible for six deaths in the Palmaide Apartments.”

Joshua was the one who answered for him; malaise dripping from every word like thick poison. You could only gaze at him with disbelief and turned to Hansol for an explanation yet he couldn’t even look at you.

“Is that true, Hansol?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper; smelling the scent of betrayal.

“I…I didn’t want to hurt them,” he answered you as he trembled like a leaf in the wind. “Joshua was—”

“I did most of the killing but he just stood there, you know? Watching as I sliced open everyone and bury them to the wall,” Joshua interrupted. “Why the wall you ask? Don’t you think human guts look pretty when displayed?”

“You sick fucker!”

You pointed both laser guns to Joshua who only looked at you curiously even though you were shaking with anger. He seemed totally unperturbed by everything; a testament that he was far from sane.

“You shouldn’t be pointing your gun at me,” he replied as he leaned his head to the side. “Hansol was only lying to you, you know…saying he cares about you. Soon enough, I’ll be dissecting you and he’ll just watch me do it with those eyes you love so much.”

You wondered if the empathy organ really exists; wondering if Joshua had one or if Hansol had one. They could really be deceiving you for all you know. Back and forth, you tossed possibilities and motives inside your head, unsure of who to believe.

In the end, you gradually moved the guns to Hansol’s direction; your eyes meeting his. He looked hurt, but you could never really tell if that was real or something faked. Even if you had so many years of experience, the true test of your instincts was at that exact moment. It was only you who could determine who to trust.

Joshua grinned at the whole situation.

“You, move!”

You ordered which Hansol promptly followed, walking to the left and in front of Joshua. Still with the guns pointed at him, you continued to shout.

“Hansol, explain to me what happened.”

With your demands, Hansol flinched and then bit his lip, scared of what you would say if he told you the truth yet obeyed you nonetheless.

“At that time, I was so shocked—I just…I didn’t know what to do,” he began as he fiddled with his fingers. “I tried to stop Joshua…and we got into a fight. I lost and the next thing I knew I was in the wall as well…”

“YN, I’m…I’m really sorry…I-I—” he continued as his voice trembled and his heart beating wildly. “I didn’t know what you’ll say. I tried to save them but I was too late…the whole thing…it scares me sometimes. I don’t want it to happen ever again. That’s why I want to protect people as much as I can…”

About to say something, the sound of slow clapping stopped you from continuing. You gazed at Joshua who was looking at the whole thing with an amused expression.

“How heroic. You can’t obviously fall for that, YN, can you?” the android remarked, his arrogance obvious. “Don’t you think it’s now time to shoot?”

“You’re right,” you replied with such a cool and calm voice; as if a decision had finally dawned on you.

Hansol feared for the worst but like he said, there was nothing he could do if you decide to kill him. If that’s what makes you happy, then he understands. If that will make you more at peace, then he can forgive you. It hurts but it hurts him more if he sees you in despair.

You breathed in, and then breathed out. With eyes that seem to pierce right through Hansol’s being, you gazed at him with those clear looks as you pointed your gun at him.

“Keep still!”

You shouted at Hansol while the other tensed up. It was not a moment to falter.

In a heartbeat, you pressed both triggers. Hansol closed his eyes and braced for the impact. Even with death at his doorstep, he can proudly say that he loves you.

“You bitch!”

Hansol could hear Joshua curse from behind him, prompting him to open both of his eyes and realize what you had just done.

Shooting two laser beams at Hansol’s direction, you deliberately missed it a few centimeters off so it would instead hit Joshua, who was right behind him. The other was of course fuming mad. Before Hansol could reorient himself however, you grabbed his hand and began running.

“I’ve seen way better acting than yours, motherfucker!” You screamed with delight as you saw Joshua bending over to a partially burnt arm and leg; throwing murderous glances at you.

“What…?” Hansol asked but you only grinned at him, squeezing his hand.

“Let’s go! I don’t think I can wipe him out with just that.”

Dashing towards the exit, you were stopped by throes of androids who blocked the way. You clicked your tongue—totally forgetting that Joshua’s main ability was designed to overwhelm the opponent— and tried to find another way out.

“Ah, even that wouldn’t work, huh?” the voice behind you resounded across the empty warehouse. “I tried so hard to eliminate you, YN. If I didn’t, Hansol would never give up his weak mindset of protecting people. Too bad.”

While he was busy with his evil villain monologue, you were trying to find a way out of your situation. The entrance was blocked and you could take a gander that the whole building was surrounded as well. You had totally forgotten about his abilities, and Hansol couldn’t be of much help either since he was never made for this kind of combat. Oh for Pete’s sake!

“Oh well, so much for trying,” he sighed. “Everyone, you can dispose of them now.”

Shit.

You gazed at Hansol for an answer yet you noticed that he was only standing there with the most composed expression he could ever muster in a situation like this.

“We have to get out of here, Hansol!” you exclaimed, seizing his hand yet he didn’t budge a single inch at all.

He was just staring at one random spot in the warehouse.

“What…”

“Sorry I was late.”

A voice you have never heard before now echoed across the area. You looked up and saw someone standing by the mezzanine, leaning against the rusted railings as if they had no care in the world.

“Jihoon. You took your time,” Hansol responded, smiling.

“Why are you here?!” Joshua shouted, now even more furious at the turn of events. For some reason, you sensed that he had just lost his upper hand.

“Hansol asked for my help. So, I came,” Jihoon replied while you noticed black diamonds floating high above the air and settled in to surround the whole place. “He knew you were bound to cause some trouble, and you did.”

“If you think you’re one step ahead of us, we are two steps ahead of you,” Hansol continued. “Jihoon and my abilities are a good match after all.”

The android who was at the center of it all was silent as he trembled with sheer rage. If you could describe the tension weighing down all of you inside that warehouse, it would be like a dense core of a black hole—as if everything was compressed to the point of singularity. You were very much afraid but you knew you were not alone.

In a quiet voice, Joshua muttered. “Get them. Kill them all.”

Without even waiting for a second, the androids from outside marched in, making you take a step back. As soon as they entered however, the androids were immediately electrocuted; shaking in a frenzy before plummeting to the ground still twitching due to the remaining electrons passing through their conductors.

“Jihoon can easily stop all of those androids. That is his main ability as a tactical adviser,” Hansol explained as he caught your shoulder. “But we should go now. Joshua will probably go after us.”

In one breath, Hansol picked you up from the ground and carried you over his shoulder; sprinting out of the warehouse by kicking a hole through the roof. You didn’t want to be carried this way but you understood why. Hansol was far faster on foot than you; besides, it was easier to shoot this way.

As expected, Joshua came running after you; cursing both your names. You began to fire at him yet he was too fast and the whole ride on Hansol’s shoulder was a little too bumpy. It wasn’t as effective as you imagined it would be.

“This won’t work” you told him, trying to distract the android chasing after you. “At this rate, my laser gun would run out of batteries, and your energy would get depleted before we could ever chase him out.”

“What are you suggesting then?” Hansol asked, climbing on top of a cargo container tower.

For a moment, you were silent as you thought of how to defeat your agile enemy.

“Say, those diamond things your brother uses…they’re the ones doing the electrocuting, aren’t they?”

Hansol nodded as he dodged the iron beams being hurled at you both. “Yes, they’re made of specials alloys that conduct well with electricity and a special aluminum coating to protect it. They can be spread out as far as a hundred meters in radius.”

You grinned. “Perfect. Now, this is what we’re going to do.”

It had been quiet for a while.

Joshua clearly lost the both of you when you made use of a container full of flour to mask your escape earlier. But he wasn’t going back. He was incredibly furious and the both of you needed to pay before he could make Jihoon suffer.

He paused and looked around. Something was in the air but he didn’t know what it was.

Without warning, a laser beam appeared out of nowhere and hit him behind his shoulder; making him stumble forward and almost pushing him to the ground. Before he could even recover, another one came flying from a different direction—now to his left.

“Calculate the angle for me, Hansol,” you ordered; a massive railgun at your grasps. It was a sleek black gun that was propped up behind a cargo container.

The both of you were actually far from where Joshua was at but with the help of Jihoon’s diamond things—as you aptly described it—scattered across the sector, you were able to locate Joshua as well as shooting him from a distance in various directions.

How? Well…

“39.9 degrees up, 5 degrees to the right, yes…” Hansol replied as he watched over your shoulder.

Immediately, you found the right coordinates and fired the railgun—the sound of its energy loading up increasing the adrenaline in your veins. The laser beam hit one of the diamonds floating above you, but instead of destroying it, the magnetic field generated by the diamond bent the laser beam as it ricochets to another diamond a few distance away, sitting at a perfect angle to hit Joshua. Like a game of BBTan.

There were several diamonds sitting just above the two of you which you alternated with so that Joshua wouldn’t be able to tell where the laser beams were coming from.

“Good thing Jihoon brought Soonyoung’s railgun,” Hansol remarked as he fixed your goggles from before; adjusting it so that he can transmit signals to it.

“Soonyoung’s another brother right?” you asked as you adjusted the crossfires of the massive gun. “Is he dangerous?”

“If you’re asking if he’s dangerous to humans like Joshua, then no,” he readily replied. “As a military-grade android, then yes. He’s the true combatant-type. I don’t think any bounty hunter can deal with him.”

You whistled. “That’s scary. I’m glad he’s not the one I was assigned to hunt.”

“He’s too carefree to be able to pull off something like this though, and Jihoon has him on a leash anyway. I’m not worried.”

Chuckling, you pulled your attention off of the railgun and turned to Hansol. “Is he still moving?”

“He’s at a weakened state now. I think I’ll handle this on my own. This is something between us, after all.”

“Sometimes I envy your sense of composure,” you remarked as you sighed. “Don’t die on me.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Just as he had said, Hansol stepped out of one of the cargo containers to face a rather battered Joshua. Using his state-of-the-art processor, he assessed that Joshua was only hanging due to the immense anger he feeling and one powerful strike can finish him off in an instant.

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” Joshua remarked his face marred with bruises and burnt marks.

“I thought maybe you’d want to give up,” Hansol replied. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than this.”

Joshua furrowed his brows as he threw daggers with his eyes at Hansol. “Save me the heroics. I’m not weak like you. I don’t need humans to help me.”

“We’re made with the same materials; the same blueprint, Joshua. You have to accept that you have an empathy organ inside of you, and rejecting it any further would lead you to deteriorate.”

“Don’t make me laugh. The empathy organ isn’t real!” He scoffed. “Jihoon made a wrong interpretation of the data he gathered.”

“I disagree,” Hansol replied. “The data I have gathered says otherwise. It was consistent to Jihoon’s findings.”

“Who would’ve guessed you got smitten by that bounty hunter! I guess I just have to convince you out of it,” Joshua grinned.

Without warning, Joshua sprinted from his position; throwing a high velocity kick towards Hansol’s direction. Hansol immediately blocked it with his arms and clutched Joshua’s ankle; smashing him down to the ground in an explosive crash.

Through the cloud of dust, Joshua hurled debris towards Hansol’s direction which he easily dodged. However, he wasn’t prepared when the other android suddenly flew at his direction; hands outstretched to grab on Hansol’s neck.

Hansol immediately countered, ducking below and grabbing the other’s neck in a chokehold before slamming Joshua back to the ground. He picked him up soon after and tossed him faraway like a curve ball. Joshua caught himself flying and saw himself crashing to the concrete floor; shards of rock and dust clouds up in the air.

“You know you’re no match for me if I use my predictive algorithms,” Hansol remarked as he looked down on Joshua who was lying on the floor. “Especially at that state.”

The other android grinned as he wiped leaked fluids from his lips. “I’m impressed. By asking Jihoon for help, the only one who could counter my AI hacking, then have your girlfriend shoot lasers to weaken me, and then finally attacking me one-on-one where you have the upper hand—your android side is showing.”

“I never denied my identity as an android. I will always be made of artificial materials. But I will not deny the fact that I have developed emotions and a consciousness of my own,” Hansol answered. “We will always be creatures of myth—a cold android swayed by their own emotions.”

Joshua spat on the floor; disgusted by his brother’s words. “I will never be like you!”

Again, he sprung from the ground and dashed towards Hansol.

The other easily countered everything his brother threw at him. As Joshua hurled an uppercut, Hansol dodged and smashed his fist at Joshua’s stomach; the other immediately curling.

“Stop this already!” Hansol pleaded; his chest tightening at how stubborn his brother could be, even to the point of near death.

“Fuck you.”

Joshua stood up, trying to land a blow on Hansol yet he was already struggling to stand upright. Hansol dodged the attack as he pushed Joshua away, putting in more distance between them. Every time Joshua tried to strike, he only ducked, dodged or jumped above the other.

“You’re looking down on me, huh? You think you’re above everyone else just because you think you understand yourself!” Joshua shouted.

“I’m not! Why are you even doing this?” Hansol replied as he bit his lip. He can no longer bear looking at his brother who he once looked up to.

“He’s right, you know?”

Jihoon’s voice resounded across the area, floating diamonds following just behind him. “It’s time for you to stop.”

Joshua clicked his tongue, knowing full well that he can’t take on both Hansol and Jihoon at the same time. With barred teeth, he glared at both his brothers.

“We’re not done here yet.”

With those words, he jumped off the building where a hovercraft caught him and escaped away from the city skylines. Hansol and Jihoon watched as their brother left, realizing that they must take significant measures to prevent Joshua from hurting anyone ever again.

“Did you do what I told you?” Jihoon asked Hansol, who only nodded in response. “We’ll have to deal with him sooner or later.”

“He’s not going to stop, is he?” Hansol responded as Jihoon turned around and waved his hand.

“It’s going to take a lot to stop him. We might need Soonyoung after all,” he replied, and then stopped walking, averting his gaze to Hansol. “While we’re planning things, you should enjoy this down time with your girlfriend. Things might get a little heated soon.”

Somewhere inside a fully automated café, Hansol was sitting beside you as he observed the people walking to and fro outside the busy street. He had been staying with you since that night and he was more than satisfied to explore his newfound freedom with you.

“So, you quit as well, huh?” a deep voice echoed across the café filled with people dressed in weird latex suits—you three being the only people dressed normally.

“There’s…I just don’t know…Seungcheol,” you replied, looking at your cup of macchiato with a pensive expression. “Sometimes, I get nightmares.”

The other man chuckled. “That those andys you retired might be human, right? Me too.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Humans and androids all seems to identical nowadays. Especially with that new research about human-android relationships…I feel like I’m killing humans when I retire androids…”

Seungcheol mirrored your expression.

“I felt the same. I felt like that for years…and the last one I did, SVT-class Type-07 Woozi…I couldn’t do it anymore. That android was too close to a human being. It was protecting its girlfriend,” Seungcheol recounted, as you looked at a newspaper article featuring a top scientist with a blond android leading the research on humans and androids, on top of the table.

“That line…there were rumors that there was an empathy organ embedded on its androids,” you remarked, relaying a very well-known information.

“He’s part of that line, isn’t he?” Seungcheol asked with a father-like knowing grin as he sipped his coffee—his eyes staring at the direction of a distracted Hansol.

You threw a smirk at him. “I couldn’t retire him. How could I refuse if he asked me to trust him?”

Your companion chuckled. “These andys knowing what to throw at us bounty hunters. But I didn’t regret letting that android live.”

You glanced at Hansol, and as soon as he realized your gaze, he looked at you curiously. “Me too. I think I’m at peace more than I was before. I didn’t realize it, but I was being stubborn.”

“You don’t dislike them anymore?” Seungcheol asked.

“I still dislike all this baloney,” you scoffed, pointing at your surroundings filled with people in white overalls with expressions induced by chemicals. “But I don’t dislike him.”

Seungcheol raised his brows at you. “I’m surprised you accepted the existence of an empathy organ.”

“I can’t deny that I’m skeptical about it, but I also can’t deny the fact that Hansol is different compared to all the androids I’ve met before. He made me realize how much anger I was hiding inside of me. He doesn’t make me feel lonely as this city does.”

“People are living in spaces separate from each other…not caring, not loving. It’s funny, you know?” you continued when your companion didn’t reply. “Androids are becoming more human, as humans become more robotic. You’d wonder what the future holds for us.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, you’d wonder.”

#seventeen #caratwritersclub #svtcreations #seventeen vernon #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #hansol vernon chwe

192 notes · View notes