#gonna tag all the chapters for this series with 'bright lights'

[after-witch]

Bright Lights (Small Spaces Quartet Sequel) (Chapter 1)

Title: Bright Lights (Chapter 1) A03 LINK

Synopsis: When her school plans a class field trip to a new circus coming into town, Samantha Adler decides that she's going to go regardless of her mother's rules. After all, it's just a circus--what could possibly go wrong? Sequel fic to the 'Small Spaces Quartet' by Katherine Arden.

Word count: appx 1500

notes: I won't really be putting notes on this one like my regular fics; there isn't anything to really warn for outside of what you might find in a middle-grade or maybe YA horror book.

The brilliant blood-red and orange leaves came by mid-September in sporadic patches, lining the neighborhood with mismatched trees in varying shades of summer green and autumn colors. In October, the older leaf-peepers that arrived on tour buses and clogged up local bed-and-breakfasts would complain that some of the trees had already gone through their good colors and they never used to be gone by then, but in Samantha Adler’s view, it was their own fault for waiting. 

Samantha--Sam, unless she was feeling fancy or was in trouble--liked the way the trees looked as she walked to school this time of year. She often admired the way the patches of red and orange contrasted against the green, and the way the sunlight sometimes shone through them if she ran out the door a few minutes early and caught the sun rising at a certain angle. 

This morning was, unfortunately, not one of the mornings where she got out the door early. She forgot to unpair her headphones from her phone before going to bed, so she didn’t hear her early alarm. It wasn’t until her mom rapped on the door and stuck her head inside, saying her name way too loud and way too frantically, that she’d realized she overslept. 

Her alarm had been set early because she would’ve liked to take a shower and spend a little more time on her outfit and maybe put on some makeup. And because she had something really important to ask her mom, and she wanted to think a little more about how she would approach it. It was hard to convince her mom of anything, especially since they moved back to Evansburg. 

She really wished she had remembered to unpair the headphones, because the thought of showing the permission slip to her mom without at least twenty minutes of preparation made her feel like she might just vomit up last night’s bedtime snack all over the carpet.

Well, if wishes were fishes, I’d have an aquarium, she thought to herself. There was nothing to do but speed-run her morning routine and hope for the best. 

She only had just enough time to throw on clean clothes (or mostly clean; they passed the sniff test, anyway) and tie her curly brown hair into a ponytail before heading downstairs. She took a curious sniff before she made it all the way downstairs; it didn’t smell like anything, which meant that her grandpa was either having a bad day or he was still sleeping. 

Sam lived in a colorful house with faded paint that had seen better days. It was the house that her mom had grown up in. Inside and out, it was varying colors of a faded Easter Egg that desperately needed a fresh coat of paint. The neighbors--and everyone else--called it “the Egg.”

There was a time when she didn’t live at the Egg with her mom and grandpa Roger. When she was very young, she, her mom and dad all lived together in an apartment in Burlington. Eventually, her parents had moved into a rental house with a patch of grass big enough for Sam to run around in. That had been Sam’s home until she was 12 years old, or about three years ago. 

That was before the divorce and… everything else. 

Sam hopped off the last stair and grabbed her backpack from its spot leaning against the staircase. It was a terrible place to leave her backpack, her mom routinely reminded her, which is exactly why she often left it there. Rebellion had to be taken wherever it could in the Adler household. 

“Grab some breakfast,” her mom said as Sam crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She already had her laptop out on the kitchen counter and from the way her fingers were flying over the keyboard, was knee-deep in work emails. Aside from her mom, the kitchen was empty, which was a small relief. 

Olivia Adler worked at the Evansburg History Museum, which was a small local museum that wasn’t even open to the public most days, except during leaf-peeping season when it drew in a modest amount of tourists. It was a noted step down from her previous job in Burlington, Sam knew, but her mom took it because it was mostly work-from-home. 

Sam eyed the bowl of pre-poured cereal, plate of leftover muffins and orange juice that her mom had set on the counter. Definitely not her grandpa’s doing. If her grandpa Roger was having a good day and woke up early enough, the kitchen would have smelled like freshly baked bread or cinnamon french toast or homemade apple cider. Her mom cooked, too, but not as often as she used to; and nothing she made was ever as delicious as grandpa’s food. 

Sam sighed and sat down on one of the stools shoved up against the table. She picked up one of the leftover muffins that her grandpa had made the day before and began to chew. It still tasted great, though she would have to hurry up and eat breakfast or she’d be late for school. 

That was okay, she thought, because it meant she didn’t have time to agonize over what she was supposed to ask her mom this morning. She would just have to get it over with and ask and that was that. 

As if on cue, a notification popped up on her phone. It was her group chat with Elisa and Owen, her best friends. Elisa’s text was in all-caps on the top of her screen: “DID YOU ASK YET??” Sam quickly shoved her phone back into her pocket and hoped her mom didn’t see it. But her mom still had her eyes glued to her laptop. 

Just ask her, Samantha Adler, and stop being such a scaredy-cat.

Sam hated the way her stomach did flips when she was nervous. She took a drink of orange juice to wash down her muffin and then cleared her throat, glancing at her mom to see if she noticed.

Her mom looked up and paused in her typing. She grabbed a muffin of her own and took a small bite.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

Sam fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wished her mom didn’t call her things like kiddo or honey-bun anymore. They were such childish nicknames, and she was 15 going on 16. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. It seemed like her mom had started using them again more frequently in the last few years instead of less. 

The orange juice tasted too sweet for her nervous stomach, but Sam took another sip before she spoke up again. Her hands were starting to sweat a little as she pulled up her backpack and unzipped it, then pulled out a crinkly piece of paper that had been weighing her down like a brick for the past few days.

Olivia Adler raised her eyebrows.

“Did you get detention?” The question was said in jest. Samantha Adler never got detention. “Or expelled?” Her mom smiled a little, which made Sam feel a bit less horrified by what she was about to ask.

But only a bit less horrified.

“No. It’s um,” Sam said, feeling like her throat was both too dry and too sticky at the same time. Just get the words out, she thought. Maybe she won’t say no this time. “It’s a permission slip. For a field trip.”

She quickly set the paper on the counter and shoved it towards her mom with slightly shaking fingers. “It’s also extra credit for Humanities.” She took a too-big bite of her muffin, chewing through her words as if that would somehow lessen the blow of a possible rejection. “It doesn’t cost any money unless you want to send me souvenir money, but I don’t want to buy anything there, it’d just be fun to go for once.” The last words came out quick and hurried and, she hated to admit it, hopeful.

Olivia’s eyes scanned the page and Sam felt like she could practically read her mom’s thoughts as the text went from generic permission slip form to a detailed description of where they’d be going. Because that’s when her mom’s face went from coolly neutral to frowning, her lip quirked down in a thin way that Sam knew meant she was biting the inside of her cheek. It was a habit she’d seen her mom do a lot lately. 

Olivia sighed and set the paper down. She tapped her fingers on the counter. It was like the words floated in the air before they left her mouth, filling the empty kitchen with a heavy tension. 

“Sam, I’m sorry, but…” She began, but Sam snatched the paper from her mom’s hand, shoved it in her backpack, and made for the front door. 

Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes and she was glad her grandpa was sleeping, because if he was awake, he’d probably make her stop and talk it out with her mom. 

She didn’t want to talk it out. She was tired of her mom always gently saying “Sorry, but…” She was even tired of the way that her mom always looked genuinely sorry about it; looked like she had something she wanted to say to Sam to explain away her refusals, but never did. 

“Sorry” wasn’t going to get her on the bus to the field trip with her friends, was it? 

Ignoring her mom softly saying her name, Sam shoved her feet into her shoes before she hoisted her backpack around her shoulder and left the house. 

Grandpa Roger was sleeping, so she didn’t slam the front door.

But she really wished she could have slammed it hard enough to shake the house. 

[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II

Part I If you haven't read it

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany

A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.

Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.

The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.

I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.

Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Much love, everyone.

Now. The morning after graduation.

It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.

You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.

They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.

The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.

Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.

You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.

Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.

You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.

You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.

Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.

San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.

Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.

Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.

But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.

But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.

He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.

You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.

Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.

From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.

Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.

You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.

You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.

If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.

You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.

The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".

It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.

"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.

Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.

"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I  promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.

He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.

"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.

The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way. 

"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.

"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."

"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.

"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?

"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.

"We want to take care of you, baby."

And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.

They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.

"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."

"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.

"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.

"We'll look after you, chagi."

That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.

"Choi San, come back at once!"

You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.

"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.

"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.

Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.

"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.

You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.

It's all too easy to fall in love with him.

He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.

You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.

"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."

Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.

Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.

"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."

"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.

The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.

"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.

There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.

Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?

He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.

You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.

Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.

"Where`s San?" He asks you.

The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.

"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."

"Good."

What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run. 

"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.

His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.

The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"

He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.

They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.

Screw it.

You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit. 

"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."

"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.

A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.

"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.

As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.

The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.

His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."

You're done for.

"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."

He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.

Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.

You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.

"P-please…"

His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…

O MY GOD.

Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.

"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.

"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."

He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.

And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.

Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.

His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.

Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.

"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.

"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.

You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.

A real girl's dinner.

What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?

"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.

"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."

Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.

The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.

You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.

You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?

Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.

There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.

And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.

Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.

In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.

"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.

Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.

"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.

The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.

Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.

"Oh, my God, boys."

"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.

"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.

You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.

The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.

"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.

It feels so good.

San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.

"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."

Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.

You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.

His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.

"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.

San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.

"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.

And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.

A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.

"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.

"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.

His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.

"The taste is so damn good."

You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.

Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.

"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.

It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.

The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.

"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.

"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.

"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.

He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.

It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."

This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.

"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.

"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.

You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.

"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."

"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.

He's going to tear you apart.

"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.

It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.

They had blown your brains out.

"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.

"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"

San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.

Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.

"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."

You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.

In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.

He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.

You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.

"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.

"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."

You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.

You look fucked.

"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."

It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?

All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.

"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."

For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.

"Okay."

You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.

You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.

You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!

"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.

"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."

You still don't want to join the conversation.

A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.

With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?

Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.

[hannieween]

after dark | city lights series | h.js

It all started with a deal with your next door neighbor, Joshua Hong. A little harmless deal that surprisingly led you to finding love; and a part of yourself that you were still discovering.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: fluff, angst, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, boyfriend joshua, ldr ✮ word count: 16.4k

›🎧: habit – i.m | chi-ka – tabber ft. dean | singularity – v ♡ | restless – bibi | smoke sprite – so!yoon! ft. rm ♡

→ previous chapters

› nsfw tags under the cut

✮ warnings: alcohol consumption (no dubcon), smut with plot, obnoxiously long sex scene, hard dom joshua, brat reader, reader is on the pill, foul language, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, messy cumplay, body worshipping, jealousy, oral sex (m, f), multiple orgasms, manhandling, a bit of degradation kink, brat taming: pussy slaps, overstimming and crymaxing; aftercare, pet names: sweetheart, princess, baby, bunny (hers) handsome, baby, babe, baby boy (his)

✮ this is loosely proofread, i could've waited patiently for the brilliant @cvntrlseecvntrlvee to proofread this for me but i am, you guess it, impatient. haha sorry my sweet vee. i love u 🩵

✮ this chapter is for @beckyloveshannie, happy birthday, baby 🩵🥰

✮ a/n: the obnoxiously long sex scene is for me. it's a self indulgent thing, i won't apologize for how fucking long it is. you suffer with me kekekekek

✮ a/n 2: also, stick around for the announcement in the final author's note!! •⩊•

✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part viii — part two

The flight that was supposed to be short ended up extending over two hours in the air because of a weather issue. By the time you reached the airport you felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

You felt like you had failed the main purpose of going to visit Joshua. Which, in reality, wasn't your sole intention of visiting him. Mainly, you just missed him so bad it made your heart ache. The second intention was to try and make him clear his schedule for your book release party.

However Joshua couldn't do that. He didn't say why, he just said he was not going to be able to attend.

You tried to see reason within that. Joshua was extremely busy these days, recording session after recording session, meetings, networking, shows, you name it.

But, he said in the past that he wanted to be there with you on the day of the release. And you couldn't help but think that there was no way that he changed his mind in the span of a few weeks. Was recording more important than his words to you?

Again, you tried to give Joshua the benefit of the doubt.

Among all of the people coming and going in the vast space of the airport, you spotted a black haired man, wearing a bright pink sweatshirt, pacing back and forth before deciding to sit down on a bench, phone in hand, the screen so bright it illuminated his whole face.

"Mr. Yoon?" you called faking an overtly sweet voice.

He winced at the sound in surprise and lifted his brown eyes to you. "Oh, grandmaaa," he chuckled, standing up to wrap you in an asphyxiating hug, bringing a hand to your head, running his knuckles on your scalp.

"Jeonghan, stop it," you whined.

"I've been calling you, ever heard of picking up the phone when it rings?" he muttered through gritted teeth, pulling away from you almost aggressively.

"I just landed, Jeonghan. I didn't take my phone off airplane mode," you muttered with some annoyance but couldn't fight the smile that crept on your face when you saw his. "Stop it with the grandma thing."

"Don't tell me what to do," he scoffed, putting a hand on the crown of your head to ruffle your hair. "Come on, hurry, or your present's gonna die from suffocation in the car," he added with a low chuckle.

"My what?" you gasped but he immediately turned to the direction of the sliding doors of the airport. "Jeonghan!"

You had to hop quicker to catch his step. "You know for someone who's recently recovering from an ankle injury, you sure are fast," you said with a tired gasp.

"I'm not fast, you're slow," he muttered, turning to give you a look. "It comes with old age."

"Can you stop with that?!" you whined and felt more irritated when he just snorted with a laugh. "I'm younger than you."

"You might be on paper, but not in spirit," he lifted his pointer finger as if lecturing. "Did you tell your boyfriend you arrived safe?"

Your heart skipped. "Oh, I forgot," you muttered and got your phone from your tote bag.

"It's affecting your memory now," he tutted, getting the key to his black BMW M3 and unlocked the door for you, opening before stating: "And please don't sit on your gift."

"Oh, what is it?" you peaked inside the car before climbing into it. There was a large paper bag on the passenger seat. "Is it this?"

You lifted the paper bag with some reluctance as you slid onto the seat. Before you could turn around and look at Jeonghan, he was already closing the door to his car and going around it.

"Very funny," you muttered with a scoff, opening the bag to receive the smell of fries. "You said my gift was alive."

"I mean it had to be alive at some point," he pointed with a shrug.

"I thought I was going to find a pet or something like that," you muttered. "I hate your pranks."

"If you want that, I can get you a bunny," he nodded at you "Or a goldfish, so it doesn't run away."

"Someone hasn't watched Finding Nemo," you said in a mocking singsong tone.

"Pretty sure that's a clownfish, you clown," he let out a chortle and pointed at the bag with his nose. "I got you your burger."

"Oh! Thank you, Jeongjeong," you cooed happily, grabbing a fry but before you could stuff it in your mouth, it was quickly snatched away by his lithe fingers. "Hey!"

He cackled, chewing the stolen fry as his devious laugh filled your ears. "Put your seatbelt on," he started the car and immediately drove off the parking lot and into the road.

The click from the seatbelt resounded between the two of you, since you were busy munching on fries.

"I assumed you'd be hungry" you heard Jeonghan say calmly now, he maintained his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you Hannie. Want a fry?" you offered.

"Please," he sighed, leaning to your side as you put a fry in his mouth. "You should try the burger, it's really good."

You nodded, though he didn't catch that. His eyes didn't leave the road until he heard the rustling noise of the paper bag as you took the burger with your hands, unwrapping it to sink a bite in.

"But not in my car!" he protested loudly, sending quick looks at you.

"You smoke in my apartment, I'll eat in your car," you quipped and laughed when you saw his jaw nearly dislocate.

"Those two are not equivalent!" he said with a look of disbelief.

"I decide they are," you said matter of factly, showing him a slight smile as you munched on the burger.

"You little–" he cut himself off with a laugh but he settled back on his seat with a small: "Brat."

You froze for a second, getting an odd feeling. Like an unsettling chill crawling down your spine. But Jeonghan was back with his eyes set on the road, paying no mind to what your reaction was.

"Oh, I forgot to tell Joshua that I'm with you," you muttered, trying to mask the alarming jolt in your stomach.

"Did you ask him about next Friday?" he pried, when he looked at you his eyes drifted to the fry you were holding in front of your mouth.

Jeonghan parted his mouth as you stuffed the fry in his mouth.

"He said he won't be able to make it," you muttered, trying to mask the pain constricting the tone of your voice, but it was too late.

Your heart deflated.

"Mmn," he hummed with some understanding. "Did he say why?"

"Nope."

You finished typing the text and sent it to your boyfriend, locking your phone to concentrate on the big burger that looked huge in your hands.

"This is really big, Hannie," you muttered innocently before taking another bite with a pleased groan.

"Yeah, they all say that," he said with a brief chuckle.

You nearly choked on your food. "Jeonghan!" you squealed, making him laugh harder. "You're gross."

"As if you didn't know me already," he scoffed and you told on his need to change the subject when he grabbed his vape pen from the cup holder as he asked: "So how was it? Were you able to tell him what was bothering you?"

"Uh, yeah," you frowned. "About that."

"Fuck me," he groaned, his arms going slack but his hands were still gripping the wheel. "You didn't tell him?"

"I was... busy," you muttered shyly and looked away. "We talked about other things, but I never got around telling him about my... insecurities."

The car came to a stop in the parking lot of the building and Jeonghan turned the engine off, a hand immediately reaching inside the paper bag to grab some fries.

"And how do you feel now?" his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"I feel like crap," you let out a sigh, trying to mask all of your emotions but the weight was too much, making you drop your gaze to your lap. "And now he's not going to be here when I release my book and it makes me question whether I want a stupid party or not because I know I'll feel bummed."

"Why? No! I'm already scouting a place for the party," he shook his head, grabbing more fries.

Your heart sank a little. "You are doing what?" you asked with a tiny voice.

"I'm looking for a nice place where you can have your party," he shrugged. "I think I found something, but I'm negotiating with the owner so we can have an enclosed section of the restaurant."

"Jeonghan you shouldn't have!" you muttered, your tone quivering with emotion.

"I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart. It's your boyfriend's instruction," he looked around aimlessly. "He might not be there, but he is putting the black card."

"You're joking," you scoffed. "Tell me you're joking."

"My jokes are funny," he tutted. "This is not a joke."

"Jeonghan," you said firmly, your head tilting to one side.

"I'm being serious!" he smiled the way he did when he knew he was getting in trouble. "He wants you to have a nice party for your big day."

"A party he's not attending!" you whined and your eyes brimmed with tears almost instantly and you had to look away in shame.

"You're not doing this for your boyfriend, you know that," he reprimanded. "Now quit being a sorry ass and eat."

You pouted and looked at your burger.

"What?" Jeonghan chuckled at the sad expression on your face. "What, why are you doing that face? Please eat that or I will."

At that, you raised the burger and took another large bite, the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes ran down your cheeks.

Jeonghan threw you a reproachful look, but a slow and awkward smile drew on his face. "You're unbelievable," he snickered, bringing the vape and tucked it between his lips, drawing a big intake.

"And you're mean," you retorted. "You're not a good friend."

"Now you're just making shit up," he laughed.

"I am," you smiled sheepishly, taking another bite from your burger. "Mmnph this has bacon in it," you delighted with big tears in your eyes.

"Yes, princess, it has bacon in it," he muttered aloofly, unlocking his phone and typing something quick.

"How did you know I liked bacon?"

"Everyone likes bacon," he rolled his eyes and sent you a look again.l "You told me you liked bacon."

"I did?" you squeaked out, mouth full of food.

"You were drunk," he muttered, still looking at his phone.

"Mmn," you hummed, pausing for some thought. "I've been doing that quite a lot."

"What, forgetting things?" he raised his head. "Yeah, that's normal in old people like you."

"Jeonghan, no!" you whined in frustration. "I mean, getting drunk."

"Please," he brushed off. "You get drunk two weekends in a row and start getting worried. You should loosen up more, grandma."

"What do you mean?" you asked in a high-pitched whine.

"I mean... you read too much into things," he dropped his phone between his thighs. "Relax. Don't worry about meaningless things. Eat."

"Pfft," you laughed. "Wow, that's great advice, Jeonghan."

"Yeah, it's not my best one," he looked out the window, biting the tip of his thumb. "Listen, I just don't like to see you like this, okay?"

"How?" you inquired, thinking that he might list emotions he saw on your face. Sad, disappointed, deflated.

"Insecure," he replied with a tone of obviousness. "It makes you irrational. That's why you can't sleep. That's why you turn to alcohol."

You swallowed, uncertain as to how to proceed with this conversation. It seemed hard to believe that in such a short time, Jeonghan has learned how to read you perfectly.

"I'm working on it," you replied with a small pout.

"I know," he replied with a warmth coating his tone, the understanding mirroring in his gaze. "But you're not canceling this."

You breathed out through your nose while you munched on your food. The only sound you heard beside you was the raspy intake of Jeonghan's vape.

"God, I've so many things to do," you said, leaning your head back on the headrest. "I don't even know where to start."

"Do you need help?" he asked promptly. "I can help if I can."

"Thank you, Jeonghan but," you sighed with some frustration. "It's stuff only I can do."

"Let me keep you company, then," he said with a reassuring smile. "Unless you want to be alone and you're too shy to tell me."

You looked into his kind eyes for a second, but it was long enough to make you feel an exhilarating jolt deep in your gut. You looked again, feeling a bit flustered and nodded to him.

"Company is okay."

Jeonghan helped you carry one of the boxes full of freshly printed and packed books and you carried another. He looked excited as you both made your way up to your apartment.

"I haven't read your books yet," he commented, weighing the heavy box in his arms. "Makes me feel excited."

"Uhm," you choked out. "Yeah... about that."

"What?" he raised his eyes at you. The elevator came to a stop and you hurried yourself out and to your apartment door.

"You don't know what I write?" you asked as you opened the door and let your friend in, who looked avidly interested in your books upon seeing your reaction.

"Should I?" he asked curiously.

"Joshua didn't tell you?"

"He just told me that you're a writer, that's it," he cocked his head to one side. "Was he supposed to tell me?"

"No, not at all just," you breathed out, putting the box on the round dining table.

"Why don't you just cut to the point?" he asked, sounding a little annoyed now and with a low grunt, he placed the box on the table too. "That shit is heavy. For someone your size, you carried it like it was nothing."

"The difference between you and me, is that I go to the gym so I can sleep," you huffed, feigning some pride but your joke was broken by your own embarrassed laugh.

"Yeah, whatever, grandma," he nodded with a playful smile plastered on his face. "I've heard your knees crack everytime you get up, so shut up."

"You shut up!" you whined like a child.

"Tell me what your books are about," he retorted while pushing the sleeves of his pink hoodie up to his elbows.

"Vampires," you muttered, but your tone fell flat.

"Tsk. I know that," he said, making his way to the kitchen and freely opening the door of your fridge, pulling out a bottle of soju and a can, which he left one day he stopped by. To keep you company as well.

"Can I get one?" you asked, nodding to the bottle of soju.

Jeonghan stopped, his eyes zeroing on your face and nodded. "You got it," he muttered, deciding not to make a comment about your newer alcoholic tendencies.

You went to your study to get your pencil case, coming back to Jeonghan sitting down on the dining table, popping the can of beer open with eyes on his phone screen, that were dragged to your frame when you entered within his line of vision.

"Do you want to watch TV while I do this?" you offered meekly when his eyes darted down your frame swiftly.

"I was thinking of watching you do whatever it is you have to do," he shrugged, leaning back on the chair, knees spread wide.

"Uhm, okay," you replied, sitting on the chair next to him. "You're going to grow bored."

"That's what the booze is for," he replied, pouring some soju on the pair of glasses, and then poured a bit of beer. His fingers moved the glass in circle motions on top of the table and then lifted the glass to you. "Drink."

"Thank you, Hannie," you whispered, taking the glass and holding it for him to clink together.

"Cheers," he said before drinking up. "Now, about your book..."

"Ah," you nervously opened one of the boxes.

The cover was pretty. Prettier than you ever expected one of your books to look like. Even when you were up all night writing the book, you never got to imagine it would sport a jacket so pretty.

You got a permanent marker from your pencil case and opened the book, to swiftly scribble your author's signature, plus a dedication note that read:

To Jeongjeong. Thank you for being the greatest friend and blessing I never knew I needed.

You closed the book and slided it across the table to his hand.

"What?" he asked, completely clueless, opened the book and quickly read the signature. His bright, sweet eyes lit up as he looked at you. "Aw, princess, thank you."

He turned the page over, his eyes reading over the book dedication, the one that the world would see. Your heart dropped, knowing what his eyes were reading, his expression changed a bit but then he immediately closed it.

"So, tell me what this is about," he insisted, trying to change the subject. "Go on, I'm not gonna read it right now."

"The book is about vampires, magic. It has a lot of blood, drama... and sex," you cleared your throat shamefully and drank from your glass deeply. "A lot of it."

A moment dragged on, Jeonghan kept the features of his face in check, but then he broke with a wheezing laughter.

"Don't laugh at me," you whined.

"Sorry, sorry," he recovered with a sniff and then drank from his own glass.

You narrowed your eyes and blurted out: "You knew."

"Of course I knew. Joshuji told me what his involvement in the making of your book was," he sent a cheeky look at you.

"Oh," you gulped. "He did? Why... when?"

"Before you guys got serious he... uh," he dropped his gaze, seemingly deep in thought for a second and then he shook his head. "I shouldn't be telling you this, anyway but he told me about you so, it's fair game."

"What are you talking about, Hannie?" you frowned, a deep remorseful feeling settling in your stomach.

"One night I got a call to come pick him up at Cheol's bar. When I got there, he was completely gone," he sighed and looked upwards to the ceiling, much as if he were uncomfortable by the predicament of being both Joshua's friend and now yours. "You had uh... you guys had a fight, or at least he told me you were taking some time to think about what you wanted."

"Hold on, when was this?" you inquired, your heart sank upon hearing this, and desperately wanted to pinpoint the time when this had taken place.

"I don't know, a month ago? Maybe. I know you guys weren't serious yet. I took him into my car, he was crying like a baby, telling me that he fucked up, that he ruined everything with you, blablabla," he rambled, only pausing to drink from his glass, emptying it completely and then started to refill it.

"Jeonghan, stop," you raised a hand. "Slowly, please."

He sighed again, adding a little grunt in the process. "The next day, he woke up in my apartment, hungover as fuck, he almost didn't know where he was, he didn't even remember being at Cheol's bar," he leaned back on the chair again, crossing his arms over his chest. "He told me everything about you because I wouldn't let him go without him explaining what got him like that."

"Did he..." you inhaled deeply. "Did he tell you why we fought?"

"Yeah, he told me," he whispered, nodding with his head and then he smiled at you. "He told me a lot of things. He told me more about you. And I asked him why you guys got into a no strings attached thing in the first place and he told me he was helping you write some scenes for your book."

You had to look away from him for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut to the image running in your mind, causing you a deep pain that sunk into your chest.

"God," you gasped. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you opened them again.

"Look, I know you wanted a fun, snarky response from me but... I'm telling you all of this because I want you to know, he loves you," he placed a hand on the crown of your haid, ruffling your hair in the process. "He's just dumb when it comes to showing it."

"He never told me all of this," you whispered, wiping a tear from your eye with the back of your hand.

"Of course he didn't," he said, shrugging off. "He probably didn't want you to know that he cried in my car, drunk off his ass."

You leaned your head to one side, sniffing loudly. "I've hurt him so much..." you sobbed, your voice was a mere whine.

"And he has hurt you."

He grabbed his glass and downed its contents in one go. He looked at you, chin raised, heavy lidded eyes now from the alcohol working fast in his system.

"But that's what you're getting for when you're in a relationship, right?" he asked, stretching his arms over his head. "Ups and downs."

"Right," you mumbled with some thought, feeling your gaze lose focus in the wall behind Jeonghan.

"Well, we were signing books, weren't we?" he said abruptly,

You scoffed, grabbed another book and opened its lap to sign the first page while Jeonghan watched you carefully.

"Do you have another marker in here?" he asked, rummaging in your pencil case and pulling out another black marker. "Nice."

"Jeonghan, what–," you blurted out, watching him take a new book, opening the first page and replicating your author's signature nearly to the point. "The fuck?"

"Yeah, I'm not proud about this," he muttered as he put another book in front of him on the table. "But it's coming in handy right now, isn't it?"

You smiled, the sound coming from your lips drew his eyes to your face. "Yeah, knock yourself off, you little humbug."

"Hehe."

The week went by slowly again. Slower than before, it felt like.

You continued to be on top of your work, trying to channel those days  when you kept yourself so busy to even think about Joshua, back when he lived thirty seconds away from you.

So your days would look like this: wake up, tend to your needs, turn your computer on, get as much work done without dwelling on the fact that your boyfriend was far away, probably in a city you'd never been before.

Sometimes, he would have the time to call you; and you would talk for a good chunk of time. Sometimes, he wouldn't even return your texts, being so that he didn't have the time and when he did you were already asleep.

The biggest challenge for you was going to bed. But that was almost routine for you. Rolling in your bed, or trying to hold onto the pillow that no longer held the scent of your boyfriend's hair.

When the day of the book release rolled around, you lied in your bed, staring at the ceiling until your alarm beeped. You reached out to stop the annoying sound alarm from your phone and sighed, hoping that the day ahead of you wasn't as bleak as your sleepless night.

But maybe you were just being too much of a pessimist.

You hit off the day by checking your email, texts and such. Apparently your book was one of the most anticipated releases for the Fantasy genre, and the pre-release had also been a success. So you just checked if everything was going alright, not caring to see anything about reviews or anything pertaining to the reception just yet.

So you kept yourself busy towards the time when you had to start to get ready for the party later in the night. Your normal day to day tasks were only interrupted by a call from the smart doorbell ringing.

You approached the small screen and were promptly notified that someone had sent you flowers.

"Come on in," you replied politely and granted them access to the elevator.

The delivery service man was at your door in less than two minutes. The flower bouquet was arranged already in a pretty ceramic vase, a light pink bow wrapped around it, safekeeping a card.

You gently placed the vase in the middle of your dining table. Already knowing the one person who would send you flowers. But you took a moment before opening the envelope to see how pretty the bouquet was.

It was an assortment of all types of flowers and colors, white, yellow, pink, and blue. Then you grabbed the small envelope tucked beneath the bow.

Congratulations, baby! I wish I could be there to give you these in person. But I guess I can give you more flowers every day to make up for it, right?

I am proud of you, bunny. I love you and I miss you every second.

J.

[19:32 PM] you: thank you for the flowers, Josh. I loved them 🥰

You waited for a few seconds in hopes that he would appear online, to receive a text back, a call, anything. But his last message was an I love you, bunny, that he sent more than twenty four hours ago.

Releasing a sigh, you decided to give up your phone, since you had been obsessing over it since Joshua left and it was causing you so much mental stress that you thought you would break soon.

Besides, you would have to be ready soon. Jeonghan had offered to come pick you up himself. More like he just instructed you to be ready, not giving you a chance to pass it up for mere politeness.

But Jeonghan had become your friend, he was no longer just Joshua's friend.

Standing in front of the long mirror, you debated whether to change your dress into a two-piece suit, thinking it might be more in line with the nature of the celebration. But the dress fitted you well, it hugged you in all the right ways. The color of the fabric complimented your skin and the length came just above your knees, legs covered by stockings too.

With a sigh, you grabbed your high heels and went to open the door.

Jeonghan stood there, hand raised in a fist and a startled look in his eye. "How did you know I was already here?"

"Takes me about a minute to get here from the lobby and you just rang the doorbell, so," you replied with a dark and gloomy air about you. "So, let's go."

"Wait," he muttered softly, blocking your way. "Fix your attitude first."

"What?" you grimaced. But he only crossed his arms on his chest, tilting his head to one side. "Jeonghan, I just want to get over this."

His eyebrows pushed up. "This?" he hissed, now looking more serious with a low tone, adding: "This is your party, celebrating your accomplishment. Quit being so hung up on Joshua not being here. This is your night. Come on, let's go."

"Fine," you huffed, following him down the hallway and into the elevator. "I'm so getting drunk tonight."

"Tsk, ah you're so dramatic," he replied, rubbing one eye with the tips of his fingers. "But if it makes you feel better I am in the mood for a drink. Or two."

"It does make me feel better," you muttered awkwardly after the reproachful look Jeonghan gave you, then you feel your face contort into a smile. "You can get really feisty."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," he muttered and broke into a chuckle himself.

"What," you blurted and his laugh became louder. "And I'm old? You're the one saying the grandpa stuff!"

"It's your influence," he finished chuckling, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "I gotta stop hanging out with you."

"And deprive yourself of good company?" you mumbled under a breath, chest swelling with pride when you could see him choke on his words, a perplexed look on his face was the last thing you saw as you walked out of the elevator.

"Ah, they learn so fast," Jeonghan said with a long sigh, his tone rising in a sing-song manner as he closed the door to his car, you sitting on the passenger seat, smoothing out the skirt of your pretty dress.

The launch party was meant to be a small gathering between friends. Since you were an anonymous author, there was no point in having a public party or in a big library with readers so this party was just to celebrate the launch.

When Jeonghan pulled up at the drive in, the car doors were opened for both of you and you stepped out to a restaurant. The front was adorned with bamboo trees and low warm lighting.

"Hold on," Jeonghan called from behind you, and you noticed that he looked somewhat jittery, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Do you think I'm still walking funny?"

You gasped at him in exasperation. "Stop trying to distract me, Jeonghan," you whined, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, you still have a limp, but nobody is going to notice. Now can we go inside?"

"Wait, no," he laughed uncomfortably, motioning you over with a hand. "Come here."

"What?" you asked, your face dropping when you saw the serious look on his face.

Jeonghan appeared to be struggling with the tiny brooch clasped on one side of his silk shirt. "I didn't know what to get you… you don't strike me as someone who likes presents," Jeonghan began to explain, casting a meek look at your face. "And after all, you're the first writer I've ever known to publish a book."

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at his bad joke. "What is it?" you asked with excitedness now as his lithe fingers approached you.

"Can I?" he motioned to the chest of your pretty dress and waited until you nodded at him.

It was a dainty gold brooch in the shape of a dragonfly. As you ran your fingers over its small wings, you felt the small stones embedded in them.

"It's supposed to symbolize good luck," he said with a hint of nervousness.

"Thank you. I love it, Jeongjeong," you showed him a smile.

The wind picked up a little, tousling his long black hair; the fringe tangled his eyelashes and made him blink repeatedly, making you giggle. He mirrored your smile and for an instant you thought you saw something change in his eyes.

But he took a step back, pleased with the view of his gift on you, which he placed on one side of your chest.

"Yeah, it's nothing. You don't have to thank me," he brushed off, putting his hand back into his pocket. "Let's go inside.

The section that was reserved for the party was a bar area secluded at the back of the restaurant. As you approached it, being led by Jeonghan walking in front of you, eyeing you every two seconds as if confirming you hadn't run away.

"Okay, are you ready?" he said, stopping before a sliding bamboo door.

"Yeah," you replied, but your tone was full of uncertainty.

"Just put on your best smile, pretend that all of this is a surprise," he coached you just before sliding the door open, doing a half bow and his arm pointing you inside the small bar area section.

You were instantly received with a loud welcome, some of your friends were there, cheering, clapping. It totally threw a blazing hot blush on your face, but you were quick to act surprised and overly cheerful.

Your best friend, Yena, came running to you to wrap you in a hug that almost had you stumbling backwards. She laughed and bounced grabbing your hands, her joy contagious.

"You made it, you made it, you made it," she chirped with a bright smile, but her pretty eyes dimmed upon reading your face expertly. "Are you not happy? What happened?" she asked and immediately knew: "It's him, right? He's not coming."

But before you could even open your mouth to utter a word, a glass of champagne was slided onto your hand. Jeonghan appeared from behind you, handing you the glass with a meaningful look in his eye.

"Come on, have a drink," he instructed and pressed his lips into a smile at Yena in a polite manner.

You immediately downed the glass in three big gulps.

"Oh, okay," Yena narrowed her eyes, understanding the situation. "We're not talking about it, right."

The room was elegant. The walls were painted a dark color, but the warm lights shone beautifully on the pictures hanging on them, also casting shadows on the high tables.

You assumed that the area was intended for parties such as this. It seemed like an extended part of the restaurant, except it was closed off to the general consumers.

The thing about having a party to celebrate something for yourself was that you had to be the center of attention. Luckily, a lot of your guests wanted to talk about your book, about the process of writing it, about how good it was that it was out, and about making numbers.

There were one or two people from the press, sent by your agency to answer some basic questions for publicity pieces and the like. They didn't take your picture, of course, as that would defeat the purpose of anonymity.

All you had to do was have a smile on your face, be polite, be friendly, but something was off. And you didn't want to think about it, but your fingers itched to grab your phone and check if there were any messages from Joshua.

"Okay, we have like one more hour to go," Jeonghan told you, probably reading in your demeanor that you ached to go home.

"What am I going to do in one more hour?" you said insufferably.

"I don't know, I've never been to a book release party," he shrugged.

"What do you do on opening nights of plays you've directed?" you asked him.

"You mean on closing nights," he corrected, pursing his lips cutely. "It's different because a play is more like a team project. I usually just thank the people that helped me make it happen."

"I don't want to make a speech," you quickly said, seeing the little glint in his eye. "I have nothing prepared."

"You'll figure it out," he muttered before turning to the room and clearing his throat loudly.

Jeonghan grabbed two glasses of champagne, gave you one and then gave you a small encouraging smile.

"Hi, everyone," you started, a chirpy nervousness quivering your tone. You cleared your throat and once you got enough eyes on you, continued. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming, and for sharing this night with me."

You looked to the man standing by your side. Jeonghan's lips were pressed in a smile, he nodded at you and placed a lithe, delicate hand on your lower back, as if giving you his support.

"I uh, refrained from doing this party, feeling like my obligation as a writer was done the minute the first copies were printed but, that's not true," you breathed out shakily. "You're all here because you've helped me throughout this process, even with things you're aware of, or things like just being a good friend to me."

You briefly looked at Jeonghan again, his smile had fallen, but his sweet eyes locked on yours.

"I have to thank Jeonghan here, whom without none of us would be here, because I don't know how to throw a party," you heard some muffle laughter, and continued anyway. "I wouldn't have done this without you, Jeongjeong."

Jeonghan dropped his hand from your lower back, blinked slowly at you, the ghost of a smile painting his pink lips.

"How was it?" you asked nervously afterwards, feeling your limbs trembling slightly, a side effect from speaking in front of a crowd.

"You're good with words. It's almost like it's your job," Jeonghan replied, his soft brown eyes lighting up when he saw you smile and heard you laugh.

"Please," you stammered a little.

"I'm being honest," he shrugged. "You know I can be honest sometimes."

"Mmn," you pushed your lower lip outwards, narrowing your eyes at him. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well," he pondered for a second, drawing in a slow breath. "I'm always honest to you, princess."

"Why do I find that more suspicious?" you jibed at him.

He tore his eyes from your face with an embarrassed smile. "Shut up," he scoffed, raising his glass up to you and you drank with him, hearing some people clinking glasses together, some people cheering and a very distinct voice calling your name,

"Congratulations, bunny."

You instantly turned to see your boyfriend, standing behind you, so close that you just took one step to him, his arms wrapping around your body, hugging you tightly.

Your mind instantly began reeling, a thrill of both excitement and frustration coursed through you, bubbling inside your chest. "How... what are you doing here?" you gasped, holding onto him. "I thought you weren't going to make it..."

Joshua kissed your head while he hugged you, his hands rubbing up and down your back until he heard you sob. He pulled back and cupped your face with his hands, looking at your eyes with a soft expression in his face.

"And miss your big day?" he asked, leaning closer to press a tender kiss on your lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

All the words you've been meaning to tell him coiled in your throat again. The painful thoughts made you recoil, thinking that it was best to tell him in private. So you returned the soft kiss, pressing your lips on his lower lip, feeling his small smile.

"Thank you for being here, Josh," you whispered, pulling back to take a look at his face.

The bags under his dark beautiful eyes denoted not only a long and exhausting day but weeks of hard work and no rest in between. He even looked a little pale under the warm glow of the lamps on top of both of you.

You suddenly wished you could feel bad for him, for all the accumulated remorse, frustration and sadness of him leaving, for his lack of communication, for making you feel neglected, even if he didn't intend to do so.

Joshua pressed his lips, nodding at you with a knowing look when he understood the discontent on your reaction.

"We'll talk later, okay?" you mumbled, giving him a squeeze on his arm.

"Okay," he replied, his eyes drifting from your face and falling on a figure standing beside you. A tired smile drew on your boyfriend's face as he approached his best friend. "Hannie."

They exchanged a quick hug and Joshua thanked him for helping throw the party for you. With a pang of concern, you wondered then if Joshua had heard your brief speech before he decided to approach you.

Joshua let out a sharp exhale, pulling out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. "I have to take this," he told you, planting a kiss on your forehead and excusing himself out of the room.

You followed him with your eyes until you lost sight of him, releasing a sigh of your own, coming to grips with what was happening, you turned to Jeonghan.

"Did you know?" you demanded.

He pushed his eyebrows up. "Know what?"

"That he was coming!" you gasped, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to the whole exchange.

"Of course not," he leaned his head back, eyeing you with a hint of reproach. "I would've told you. You know that."

You caught the certainty in his eyes. You knew that Jeonghan was a crafty liar, but he has shown you that no matter what, he has your back.

"Why do you look like that?" he muttered discreetly.

"Like what?" you mumbled with a tiny voice.

"You're doing that thing with your face when you're about to cry. Oh no–," he muttered quickly and then, his whole stance changed, he took a step closer to you, as if shielding you from the eyes of your guests when you took a sharp intake of breath, your sob resounding loudly.

"Princess, don't cry right now," he said gently, stretching an arm to reach for a napkin on the table behind you and passing it to you.

"I'm so mad at him," you whispered, lowering your head so you could easily hide your tears.

"I don't understand. You wanted him here, you cried for days because he wasn't coming and now that he is here, you're mad at him?" he muttered hurriedly, and you looked up to see his frown.

"He didn't tell me he was going to be here," you sniffed quietly, using the napkin to carefully gather your tears without ruining your makeup completely.

"That doesn't help me understand," he gave you an awkward smile, darting a look up and then back at you. "Listen, he's coming back. You can go to the washroom behind me, or you can confront him now."

You rolled your eyes, seeing the triumphant smirk stretching on his lips, because he knew what you'd choose. "Screw you, Jeonghan."

"I'll cover you. Go," he nodded back to the hallway behind him.

You swiftly walked down the hallway and towards the door of the washroom. Luckily your quick argument with Jeonghan got you heated enough that you composed yourself from the rageful fit towards your boyfriend.

So you just made sure that the makeup you used in your eyes and your lashes hadn't run. Looking in the mirror for any signs that you had cried at your own party and when you were certain enough, you walked back to the table.

Joshua was already there, having a lively conversation with Jeonghan. Your boyfriend's face lit up when he saw you, it was an attentive look he gave you, extending a hand at you as you made your way to his side, and he quickly secured an arm around your waist.

"Everything alright, bunny?" he asked.

"Joshua," you gasped, looking at Jeonghan who was witnessing your pet name being thrown around freely.

"What?" he chuckled, his smile drawing lines on the corner of his eyes.

"Don't call me that in front of people," you whined with a high pitch tone that would instantly send a warm rush of blood to your face.

"Why? You're embarrassed of what Jeonghan would think of it, baby?" he teased and you smashed a hand against his shoulder playfully.

"Yes!" you replied in an obvious tone.

"Don't worry, baby. You can trust that Hannie won't judge," he said, casting a glance to his best friend.

You suddenly felt like you were missing something. Looking at Jeonghan who just smiled at you playfully while your boyfriend appeared to be mirroring his smirk.

"Still, it makes me feel embarrassed," you muttered quietly but it was too late now.

Jeonghan chuckled at the expression on your face, mocking you a bit like he usually does. "While you two lovebirds are tearing at each other, I have to go get something arranged," he said, swiftly making his way to talk to someone from the staff.

You awkwardly turned to see your boyfriend, who broke into a shameless laugh. "Joshua, you can't be calling me bunny in front of Jeonghan."

"Why not?" he asked, shrugging off with some ease. "He calls you princess."

"You," you choked. "You know that?"

Joshua drew in a breath, chest swelling as he nodded with his head. "Yeah, I know that," he replied shortly. "I heard him."

"I thought it was a normal thing for him," you frowned, feeling a little confused.

"It's not," he breathed out, bringing up a hand to pinch your chin gingerly. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Are you sure?" you blurted, reading the features of his face desperately. "I do-don't want you to think that–"

"Baby," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "We'll talk about it later."

You decided to let that matter rest then, thinking that it was best to start by what was more important to you.

"We need to talk about many things," you said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know," he tilted your head back using his hand on your chin, to gently press a kiss on your lips. "Let's enjoy tonight? I have something for you."

Joshua drew a small box from the pocket of his jacket. It was a black velvet box that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Your heart almost gave out as he used his other hand to open it, and your hand flew to your chest.

But it was a dainty necklace, a heart locket made of gold. Heart racing, you looked up at his doe eyes, which were smiling softly upon seeing your reaction.

"Do you like it, baby?"

"Yeah," you breathed. "It's beautiful, Josh."

"Turn around," he motioned you over so he could clasp it around your neck. You pulled your hair back to give him access to your neck and placed the necklace around it. You reached for the delicate heart locket with your fingers, feeling something engraved into it.

At that moment, Jeonghan returned with a smile on his face that told you he was up to something. "The cake is here! Finally."

"What cake?!" you gasped, your heart sinking to your stomach when he pulled out his phone and started recording your face.

"Should we sing happy birthday? After all it's your book's birthday," he teased with a mischievous grin and called, "Everyone!"

Then as if on cue, everyone around you, your guests, your friends, your boyfriend behind you started chanting a happy birthday song as a big cake in the shape of your book, was neatly placed in the high top table in front of you.

You smiled when you noticed that the art of the cake was an exact replica of the cover of your book.

As the chorus continued on, you tried to keep a smile on your face, although the blush had started to create a tingling sensation on your cheeks now from the embarrassment and from being the only center of attention.

Jeonghan smiled broadly at you, keeping the camera of his phone steady on your face. He seemed content with his work, with all of the things he planned for this night.

A warm hand parked on your lower back. Joshua gave you a reassuring smile, singing along with all of your guests and friends until the song came to its end. You almost died of embarrassment. But you smiled back at your boyfriend and tried your best to enjoy the rest of the night.

The ride back home was quiet. You didn't mind this until a large and warm hand landed on top of your thigh, squishing your skin over the fabric of your stockings.

It was a squeeze that demanded attention, a look, a word, anything. Though you continued to look out the window, a wave of remorse eating you from the inside.

You fought the need to say something, but being so that the painful thoughts plagued your mind, the best choice was to keep quiet until you got home.

Still, you slid a hand on top of his.

You burned to tell him everything that kept you awake at night, you needed him to know what you felt during the days of his radio silence.

"Is everything okay, baby?" Joshua asked, following you out of the elevator and down the hallway to your door. "You've been very quiet."

The more you thought of an answer, the angrier you felt. You bit on the inside of your cheek as you opened the door for him. The twist in your stomach tightening as you crossed the living room, discarding his leather jacket on the chair placed in one corner of your bedroom.

You had no idea if he was still close behind you, the buzzing in your ears worsening as the first hiccup came.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong," you heard him say, a hint of concern lacing his sweet tone.

"You–," you choked on a sob, turning to see his face, the face you wanted to see for days. "You made me believe you weren't coming! To what end? To surprise me?"

You saw Joshua's mouth parting as he searched for words and just as he was about to start explaining himself, your rage made you spurt out words out of your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Do you know how fucking bad I felt the whole time?" you demanded, turning away from him when you saw his face contort into a sad frown. "I thought you didn't care enough to be here, do you know how fucked up is that?"

You were standing in front of your dresser, pretending to take off your earrings but the silence from him was killing you, so you turned around again to see him.

Joshua looked at you cautiously for a second, his throat bobbing as it seemed that he too choked on his own words. "I didn't want to give you any false hope by telling you I'd be here when I wasn't sure myself," he said with a low tone, giving you a guilty look. "I tried to get as much work done as possible so I could come see you."

You sniffed, standing with your shoulders drawn back, feeling yourself guarding up again. "Why didn't you at least say something today?" you uttered, tasting the saltiness of your tears that fell on the corners of your lips.

"I've been working from six in the morning," he said, cocking his head to one side. "And then I was on another flight, exhausted so I fell asleep."

"That's a bad excuse, Joshua," you reprimanded with ire blinding you now, taking your high heels to toss them on one corner of your closet.

"All day I've been checking my phone to see if I get anything from you, do you know how that feels?" you were raising your voice now, from the bottled up emotions, the stress and frustration from today.

"Yes. I do, actually."

Joshua looked upwards, releasing a sigh that made his shoulders go slack. He looked like he hated this, to fight with you. He looked the same way he did that night when you both got angry at each other on the rooftop.

You trapped your lower lip between your teeth in an attempt to stop it from quivering and looked away from your boyfriend's face.

"I'm sorry," he said, now looking at you again, sorrow in his eyes as he took a cautious step towards you. "I'm so sorry, baby. I tried to get here as a surprise, yes. But I just couldn't leave without getting work done first and that delayed everything. I couldn't get to your party on time and I'm sorry for it."

As soon as his arms wrapped around you, you hid your face on the crook of his neck. With a strangled sob, you got the scent of his musky cologne, the very distinct smell of his skin as you clung to the white t-shirt he was wearing.

"I'm sorry too," you whispered.

"Sh, it's okay. It's okay," he shushed repeatedly, grabbing your face with his hands and leaned to look in your eyes, face to face. "You have nothing to apologize for, baby. This is on me, I fucked up and I am sorry."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," you sobbed and quieted down when he pressed his forehead against yours.

"It's okay, it's okay" he replied, swallowing hard. "Yell at me, swear at me, but talk to me, baby. Don't keep it to yourself."

"I was so mad," you mumbled, grabbing his wrists with your hands.

Joshua pulled back, giving you space to breathe. You saw the remorse in his face, his eyebrows knitting together, his big eyes following your mouth and your eyes as you continued to shed tears.

"I thought that you didn't care to be here," you confessed with a tiny hiccup.

"I'm sorry baby, that was the least of my intentions," he replied softly, but you could see the trouble it caused him to hear you say that. "Believe me, I tried to get to your party on time."

"I believe you, Josh," you replied, feeling like you could start crying again. "But I just wish you'd let me know earlier."

A deep frown appeared on his face. "I never wanted to make you feel bad, baby."

Before you could hold rein to your actions, your head tilted, your heart already giving into the big brown eyes that were pleading for you to forgive him.

"I told you that next time I wouldn't be too forgiving," you reminded him, your tone coated with a gentleness that signified your resignation over your anger.

Joshua's gaze softened, lifting a hand to caress your cheek with his long and delicate fingers. "I know, baby. I'm so sorry" he sighed in relief when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Just..." you whispered, pulling back slightly, hands encircling his neck lightly. "Kiss me."

He looked unsure for a second. As if he wanted to say more, but quickly obliged to your request, seeing that you were seeking something more than an exchange of words. You needed him.

His hand found your chin, grabbing you gently as he leaned closer, swallowing hard before pressing his lips on yours. Your hands cupped the back of his head, urging him to kiss you deeper, harder.

"Baby," he grunted in your mouth. "Don't you think we need to talk more about this?"

"No," you brushed off immediately, using your hands to press on the back of his head, crushing your mouth on his.

But even if he was returning the kiss, you didn't feel him there. You could almost hear his mind reeling.

"Please, Joshua," you sobbed, something so desperate in you that your voice quivered. "Please, baby, just kiss me."

"We need to talk," he responded. "We've been going around in circles with this. We can't solve this by having sex. You know that."

"What are you talking about?" you pulled back, retrieving your hands from his nape.

He looked at you in disbelief for a second. "I know something's wrong," he frowned. "I've known you long enough to notice when you're deflecting."

"Josh," you sighed.

"Baby, you promised," he insisted, his big eyes reading your face.

"What do you want me to say?" you blurted, digging your grave further.

"What's going on?" he asked gently.

Your heart crushed at the look he gave you. Like a lost puppy, trying to chase you, you tried to ignore the sound of his voice breaking a little.

"It's nothing," you whispered. "I've been a little bummed about you leaving—no, not leaving. I just wish you reached out to me more frequently. We talked about this last time! You've been ignoring me and I feel hurt over that."

"I don't do it on purpose," he said with a tired sigh, but he looked guilty. "I try to get all of your messages but the truth is... I'm tired."

Your heart deflated, but you quickly understood that he wasn't talking about you, or your relationship. Joshua meant his life, his career taking off faster than he or you could comprehend.

"Everything is happening so fast, I feel like I haven't had time to breathe," he said with a strangled tone. "I'm sorry, baby. I never meant for you to be affected by this. By me."

You reached out to hold his hand, making his big eyes look back to you. "Why didn't you tell me?" you asked softly.

"I don't want to burden you, bunny," he muttered, squeezing your hand. "But I realize now that it was better to tell you. None of this would've happened if I had."

You used your free hand to push his hair back from his face. "I should've told you sooner too."

The corners of his lips rose slightly. "I guess we're both learning about this, right?"

"I guess we are," you whispered.

"C'mere," he mouthed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, one arm around your waist and the other across your back, his hand reaching the back of your head.

His kiss was tender at first, his lips brushing yours softly, his tongue caressing your lower lip, once, twice until you moaned helplessly. Then the kiss deepened, demanding more from each other, your breath hitched as his mouth crushed into yours, tongues meeting with hunger.

Your hands searched for the hem of his white t-shirt, pulling it up clumsily.

Joshua pulled back from the kiss, yanking his t-shirt from his body in one movement and tossed it to one side blindly. Then you heard him inhale sharply when your hands ran over his toned pecs, to his lats, feeling the hard muscle, his soft skin.

You kissed his mouth, his cheek, a hand caressing his long hair as you moved to kiss his eyelids, standing on your tiptoes to reach him.

Joshua laughed softly, his hands squeezing your waist with urge. "Sit back, baby," he pushed you to the edge of your bed.

You obediently did so, but hooked your fingers on the belt of his jeans, pulling him towards you. You heard a gasp that resembled the sound he makes when he smiles.

"Oh," he blurted. "Baby, slow down."

You were placing open mouthed kisses on his tummy, a soft moan escaped you when you caught the familiar taste of his skin. Your hands caressed him as your kisses trailed up his pecs, licking one nipple first.

"Mmn," he hummed softly, his hand cupping the side of your head when your teeth grazed the underside of his pectoral, playfully landing more kisses around the sensitive area of his darkened bud.

You took your time doing the same exploration on the other side of his chest. The tip of your tongue lapping on his nipple, tasting his skin, the scent of his cologne.

You suckled on his skin harshly, hearing a soft grunt reverberating on the chest you were leaving marks on.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he urged when you detached your mouth from his beautiful skin, now marked with reddened spots.

You crawled on the bed, watching him follow you, pressing one knee after the other, looking at you with a gaze darkened with lust and love.

Joshua pressed his body against yours, trapped now between him and your mattress. He resumed kissing you deeply, his hand crept from your face, down to your neck, caressing your shoulder, searching for your hand to lace his fingers with yours.

"Joshua," you mumbled into his mouth as he gave you shallow kisses, moaning softly in your lips. "Baby."

"Mm?" he responded, kissing your mouth as if he wanted to melt into you.

"I want you to do something for me," you said, your breath catching when he flipped your body and his on the bed, so now you were straddling him. Some of the seams of the skirt of your dress ripped, and you pulled it upwards, uncovering up to your butt.

"Anything," he breathed, the pads of his pointer and middle finger grazing your cheek, holding you still as he placed feathery kisses on your lips.

You pulled back slightly, looking at the beautiful features of his face. "This is going to sound crazy."

The soft lines between his eyebrows showed when he frowned ever so slightly. "What?" he asked, his eyes reading your every expression.

You fidgeted with the long strands of his hair, looking for the words to express what you wanted without sounding ridiculous.

"Do you want to take control, baby?" he guessed, moving his head to one side while reading your face with his eyes. "Is that what you want?"

"No, no," you giggled a bit from how far off his idea was from yours. "It's quite the opposite really..." you brushed the studded piercing with your thumb, making his eyelids flutter.

"Tell me what you want, bunny," he whispered.

"I want you to be... hard on me, Josh," you asked, positioning your knees firmly on the bed to press your crotch on the hard bulge beneath his pants.

A low grunt coiled in his throat, his hands sliding down your body to grasp your hips. "Why?" he grunted, his frown not relaxing.

"I just want it," you pressed down again, moving your crotch against his hardened cock, the seam of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive bud of your cunt. "Please?"

"Mmn," he hummed seemingly pondering over your request, his hand came up to hold your chin, pressing open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Don't you want me to spoil you tonight, baby?"

"You can spoil me by being a little mean to me," you teased, a grin appearing on your lips, which he kissed right away.

"That's something I never thought you'd say, baby," he admitted with a breathy chuckle that you felt in your mouth.

"Please, Josh?" you pleaded, putting on your best puppy eyes.

"Do you think you deserve it, baby?" he asked, his voice merely a rasp.

You took some consideration over his words and then nodded slowly, mouthing, "Yeah, I do."

"Have you been bad, sweetheart?" his tone had recovered, now waking with the usual tone he uses when he's domming you.

"Yeah, I think I have been," you responded with a sweet tone of your own.

His pretty pouty lips stretched in a small smirk. "Mmn, my baby was bad while I was away?" he purred, his dark eyes glimmering under the soft lights of your bedroom lamps.

"Maybe a little," you replied cheekily.

"A little?" he toyed, giggling a little. "If you were only a little, I don't see why I should go hard on you."

"Mm, because I want you to," you replied, pouting at him now. "Come on, baby. I can take it."

He appeared to be considering your proposition, weighing in your words, the look on your face, the determination he probably saw in you and with a final booping of your nose with the tip of his finger he nodded.

"Anything that you don't like, anything you feel wrong, you can tell me," he promised. "You know that, right?"

"I know, Josh." you smiled meekly at him, caressing his dark locks.

"That's my baby," he whispered, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he met them with your own.

You knew why he said this every time he dommed you. Within all of the nights that you have spent under his control, though not many, you've gotten a sense that he said this because without your consent, none of it would work.

It was simple. Joshua would go as far as you would allow him to go.

His hand left the side of your thigh and found your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing your jawline as he brought your face down so he could kiss you.

"Why have you been bad, baby?"

A deep remorseful feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew he'd try to understand why you wanted him to punish you. By now it was some form of therapy for the two of you, letting it out on sex, talking it out, reconciliations during after care.

But this time, instead of you dodging your answers, Joshua gave it right for you.

"Have you been losing trust in me lately?" he asked, his tone soft and so calculated that you had to pull back to take a look at the features of his face. "Is that how you've been bad?"

"Yeah," you whispered, waiting for his reaction, expecting to see him turning this around and trying to talk you out of the situation. "Are you mad at me?"

"No baby, of course not," he reassured, drawing in a breath as his hand grasping the side of your neck pulled you in for another long, wet kiss.

"But, don't you think I need to be punished?" you asked with an overly sweet and innocent tone.

"Is that why you want me to go hard on you?" he growled as you decided to start grinding on him again. "You want me to, god, slow down, baby."

You immediately slowed the sway of your hips on him, deciding to ease your weight on him, moving your crotch ever so slightly on his. "Yeah," you replied, pressing down on his crotch, angling your cunt against the seam of his jeans.

"Do you feel like you need to be punished, bunny?" he leaned his head in the direction of his shoulder.

"I do, Josh," you mewled with a sigh, pressing your crotch on him slowly.

"Then that's all I need," he growled in your mouth, cupping the back of your head to capture your lips with his own with a gasp, kissing you fervently.

His fingers tangled into the hair growing on the base of your head, fisting it as the kiss turned into a hard, heated one. You felt a hand searching the chest of your dress, then you understood that he was getting rid of the brooch Jeonghan gave you.

Joshua tossed it aside, your gift landing somewhere on the bed. "I need you out of this," he grunted in your mouth, his fist scrunching the skirt of your dress, motioning it upwards.

"Help me with the zipper?" you asked with a nervous whisper.

"Yeah," he replied, fingers swiftly getting zipping down your dress.

You climbed off of him and the bed altogether, removing your dress with a playfulness to your movements. Joshua propped himself on his elbows to watch you reveal a new set of lingerie, the pastel blue contrasting with the thigh high black stockings.

"Do you like it?" you mumbled sweetly, lifting your arms delicately before you did a half twirl for him, showing him the back of your panties, that exposed your buttcheeks.

Joshua sighed in delight, pushing himself off the bed and walked to you. "I love it, baby," he replied.

"Do you want me to leave it on?" you asked, as you reached out to get the rest of his clothes, undoing his belt with shaky fingers.

"For now, yeah," he replied gruffly, watching you zip his pants down, tucking your hands beneath the stretchy fabric of his black boxers to yank them down and he helped you remove them by stepping out of his clothes.

Once he was wholly naked, you marveled in all his beauty, the proud nakedness in which he stood in front of you.

A fingertip dipped gently in his belly button, making him smile fondly at you. But the smile faltered when you trailed down, feeling the soft hairs of the happy trail that led to his pubic hair.

Your fingers encircled around the girth of his cock, already hard for you. The skin of his shaft was soft, interrupted only by the vein on the underside and the ridges before the bulbous, rosy brown head. You pumped him slowly, gently, your thumb gathering the precum gathering in his slit.

You sank to your knees, casting a look up at him. Your eyes locked with his as you pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, licking your lips, tasting his precum in the process.

His hand brushed your hair from one side of your head. "Baby," he rasped. "Oh, god, baby," he moaned deeply when you took his cockhead into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, tongue pressing on him as you pushed your head forward.

You slowly bobbed your head back and forth, taking him an inch further at a time, swirling your tongue around his cockhead every time you pulled your mouth back on him.

"Fuck, baby," he whispered gruffly, closing his eyes briefly to then use his hands to pull your head back. "Just like that."

You lapped your tongue on his cockhead, running the soft part of the underside of your tongue around him as you moved your head back, a soft smacking noise created by your lips when you kissed his tip.

"Do you want to fuck my mouth, Josh?" you asked using a sweet tone, looking up to his eyes, which darkened with lust and fascination over you.

"Do you still remember how to do this, baby?" he asked, grabbing his drool coated cock with one hand, the other parking firmly on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Your eyes looked up to him, his facial expression controlled, measured as he smirked at you when you instinctively parted your mouth for him. "Good girl."

You pulled out your tongue, letting him rest his heavy cock on top of it. When you heard a soft grunt escape him, you closed your lips around his thick girth, simulating an open kiss, pulling your mouth back and creating a soft, smacking sound on the reddened tip of his.

"I'm going to move on your mouth," he warned with a soft tone, removing his hand from his cock to hold your head now with both of his hands. "Tap on me if you want me to stop."

Your eyes dropped from his face, to the faint film sweat trailing down his neck, between his pecs and onto the hard muscles of his abdomen that clenched softly when he started pushing his cock down your throat.

A moan got muffled by his cock in your mouth. You remembered to tell yourself to relax your tongue under the heavy length of him, giving him access to fuck your mouth freely.

"That's it baby," he whispered when he felt your mouth go lax. "You always take my cock so fucking well."

Your eyes were following the movements of his body, relishing on the way he kept himself controlled, slowly pacing himself, pushing an inch farther with each thrust until you nearly brushed his soft pubic hair with the tip of your nose.

One hand moved from the back of your head to the side of your face, his thumb resting on top of your cheekbone as he commanded your eyes up to his.

"Breathe, bunny," he directed with a gentleness that betrayed his following movements.

With a gasp, he snapped his head back, ramming his cock inside your mouth. Your hands flew to hold onto the hard muscle of his thighs, gagging around his girth, the tip reaching the back of your mouth, hitting the spot repeatedly.

The hand that was still on the back of your head, holding you by your hair forced you back, to give himself ample space to push his cock farther, so that he could hear you gag around him, feel the muscles of your throat constricting around his tip.

"Fuck," he breathed, closing his eyes to the vision of you taking him so obediently. "Mmph," he let out a puff of air.

You responded with a moan of your own. Watching him screwing his eyes shut, forcing himself to keep his pace steady, slow for you instead of tearing your mouth open with his cock. Even though it was exactly what you wanted.

"Oh, god," he groaned, with his head still tilted back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Baby—fuck. Baby you feel so, so good."

You let out a whiny noise, making him lower his gaze at you.

"I'm close," he breathed, a grunt coming out of him as he swallowed hard again. His finger digging on the soft skin of your cheek as he said. "And you are taking it all, bunny."

You moaned in a half confirmation sound as best as you could, still gagging on him, tears running down your cheeks uncontrollably, drool dripping down the corners of your lips and onto your chin.

"Good girl," he gasped softly, closing his eyes with a pleased grin on his face.

Then he lost the grin when his mouth parted, his brow furrowing gently before he moaned deeply. You held in a breath through your nose, swallowing the ropes of cum spurting out of his cock and down your throat.

Joshua had stopped his thrusts, as he came with deep breaths and tiny grunts, keeping you still for him while sighing: "Goooood fucking girl."

But he pulled out too quickly, sloppily. You noticed it was on purpose by his controlled move: using the hand on your face to push back your chin, forcing your mouth open and removing his cock from your throat.

You choked, coughed and breathed in, all within two seconds. Hot tears sprinted from your eyes as you remained on his firm grasp, keeping your head leaned back.

"Breathe. Breathe through your nose," he whispered softly, using the pad of his thumb to gather the cum and drool that you had spat back on your chin, sliding it back to your mouth. "Thaaat's it, baby. Slowly."

You breathed in desperately, heaving almost; vision going blurry in and out as more hot tears kept on falling on your cheeks.

"You did so well, bunny," he muttered, a cheeky grin falling on the features of his face.

His large hand released your hair, sliding on the side of your face, cupping it fully. You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping you because of the tenderness of his touch, feeling it cause your skin to prickle.

"Want me to make you feel good, sweetheart?"

Panting, you raised your gaze to see him. A cold shudder coursed through you when you saw his controlled manner, the enjoyment in his dark glimmering eyes.

"Please?" you mumbled, and upon speaking you had to gulp hard and clear your throat.

"Sit on the bed for me," he nodded behind you and you rose to your feet, quickly sitting on the edge of your bed. A question arose in your mind as to what were your boyfriend's next moves.

"I love it when you use these," he mumbled, running the pads of his fingers over the lace band of your high knee stockings. "You looked so beautiful tonight, baby."

"Thank you, Josh," you beamed at him, the gesture making him cup your cheek, leaning to get a quick kiss from your lips.

His hand slid to your back, skin prickling as his fingers unfastened the clasp of your pastel blue bra. The other hand grabbed your bra by its middle, pulling it from your body with one swift move, leaving your tits bare for his view.

Joshua wasted no time as his hands moved to the band of your pretty lace panties. You propped your hands behind you, leaning back slightly as he slid your panties down your thighs, unhooking one ankle after the other.

Then it was his turn to drop to his knees, your bed was high enough so he only leaned his head between your thighs, motioning them over with his large hands and you placed them each on his shoulders, locking your ankles, feet resting comfortably on his back.

"I've missed you so much, bunny," he muttered, littering your inner thighs with kisses, reaching your mound before angling your thighs open for him, his tongue lapping between your folds, giving them a broad stroke.

"Mmnph, Josh," you mewled, hands flying to tangle your fingers in his hair, following the movements of his head as he gave your cunt generous strokes with his tongue. "Joshua—fuck, baby, yes, yes."

The tip of his tongue swirled around your bud, gently tugging at it with his lips before sucking on it lightly. Your thighs flinched, a moan spilling from your lips when he stuck to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He continued teasing your clit like this until you came, fast and loud, fingers clenching on his long hair, crying out his name. But he didn't stop there, instead, you felt his lips wrap around your now swollen bud, starting to suckle at it gently.

"Josh," you called, propping yourself on your elbows. "Baby, I need you now," you mewled, but he completely ignored you.

He started to suck on your clit harder, moaning against your clit as you came on his mouth again, writing desperately, making his hands hold you down to the bed.

"Were you bad while I was away, baby?" he asked softly.

You were breathing slowly, coming down from your high with trembling limbs and barely able to utter a word when a firm slap came down your clit.

"I asked you a question," he rasped, ignoring your loud and very lewd yelp. He landed another slap, using his four fingers on your clit.

"Fuck," you breathed, flinching on your bed when you received the intense feeling of his hand clashing with your sensitive clit. "Yeah, I have."

Joshua rose to his feet, and you couldn't help but feast your eyes over his beautiful body. The hickeys on his chest were flaring red, your eyes trailing down to see his cock fully hard again.

"You've been having fun while I was away, baby?" he purred, dipping his fingers on your core to then push the pads of his fingers over your swollen clit, covering it with your arousal.

"F-fun?" you squeaked pathetically.

"Fucking yourself with your toys, with your hands... thinking of someone who isn't me, perhaps?" he cocked his head to one side.

You paused, feeling your heart sink down to your stomach. And before you could grasp at the evident trap in his question, another harsh slap landed right on your clit.

"No, no!" you replied as quickly as you could. "I'd never do that!"

"Mn? Then how have you been bad, baby?" he asked, pinching your clit with his fingers, giving it pulsating pinches over and over before delivering another slap.

The intense feeling your pussy suffered made you convulse. "Fuck! That's too much, baby," you said in a fucked out tone, recoiling when he swiftly slapped your clit again.

"That's not my name, bunny," he growled, a devilish smirk appearing on his face.

"Sorry," you slurred out.

"Did you imagine someone else playing with this pussy, baby?" he continued with his little game of questions, his honeyed voice sending a chill through your body.

"No! I wouldn't—I'd never," you gasped pathetically, your legs beginning to shake from the lack of support.

"Did you wish someone else fucked you?"

The ghost of a smirk crowned his lips, the studded eyebrow twitching up slightly when you didn't answer. You held in a breath when you saw Joshua grabbing his cock with one hand, guiding it to your entrance.

A pathetic mewl spilled from your lips when he sheathed his cock inside you in one go, holding your legs with his arms, hands parked on your hips as he fucked you slowly at first.

"Oh, god," you sighed, the bite of his cock stretching your walls felt mind-numbingly good that you barely had any control over yourself.

"What's that, bunny?" he gasped, the features of his face riddled with pleasure too.

"Josh," you whimpered, rendered utterly useless, all you could focus on was his cock, stretching your walls like nothing else. "Please, faster, fuck me faster, please."

Joshua blinked slowly at you, there was no denying the love in his eyes. But he didn't give you what he wanted, he continued to push his cock inside you slowly, enjoying the pulsating of your walls around him from all the pleasure building up, anticipating another climax.

"Do you want someone else playing with what's mine?" he asked in a hollow tone, his usual sweetness robbed by the strain and the focus he kept over the calculated pace of his thrusts.

You felt your brow furrowing in confusion, a light gasp leaving your mouth before you could even think of a response.

"Did you miss me, princess?" he asked, his movements picking some speed, fucking you with shallow thrusts, testing you before starting to plow on you mercilessly.

The change was so sudden you were snapped from your quiet confusion.

"Yes, Josh! O-of course," you gasped, your hands searching for something to hold onto. His thrusts became so brutal that your entire body was pushed on your bed, making your tits bounce and your breath catch.

"Mmn," he hummed before letting a puffy sigh out of his lips, then he tilted his head back, eyelids fluttering as he moaned deeply. "Fuuuck," he rasped as he came inside you with hard thrusts, his mouth parting slightly.

A chill coursed through you. Joshua didn't care if you came with him, or before him, he emptied himself inside you without a warning, his face torn with pleasure as he did so. And even if you felt close to your own climax, you couldn't care less as well.

Joshua stopped pushing his cock inside you, shuddering slightly when he pulled out of you not a minute after. His cum dripped out of you helplessly, leaving a warm trail as it slid slowly from your entrance.

"God, baby, you're so messy," he reproached with a soft tone.

"Mm?" you cluelessly looked at him. "Fuck!" you gasped when his fingers swiftly picked up his own cum, pushing it back to your core.

Then he took his long fingers between your lips, inserting them into your mouth. You tasted the salt of his cum and your own arousal, making you inhale deeply because of the sudden intrusion of his fingers deep in your tongue.

"Good girl," he whispered, pulling out his two fingers to dip them into your fluttering core again.

"Josh," you mewled, squirming when the pads of his fingers played with the cum dripping out from you.

"Shhh," he shushed you softly, taking his fingers to your mouth again, smiling when you sucked them clean diligently. "You're being such a good girl right now. So good for me."

"Babe," you breathed out when you were able to speak again. "God, Joshua," his fingers were inside you again, pushing his cum back into your cunt, massaging your walls in the process.

"Yes, bunny?" he replied when you called his name. "What do you want?"

"More," you mewled pathetically. "Please."

You had realized that his other hand was working on himself, his fist pumping his cock slowly, getting himself hard at the sight of you dripping in cum, tears, drool, legs shaking, asking for more.

Joshua tilted his head slightly to one side. "More?" he smiled cheekily, introducing a third finger inside you.

"Joshua," you whined over the squelching sounds caused by his fingers plunging in and out of you. "Don't tease me."

But he continued pushing his fingers in, the pads of his fingers pressing on your front walls, making you squirm in the bed, a hand scrunching on the covers of your bed.

"Please?" you gasped lewdly. "Please, Josh, you know what I want, please."

Joshua tilted his head back, cocking the studded eyebrow, looking at you with so much awe, smiling mischievously when you started pleading for more. His fist continued pumping on his cock, picking up some speed that made him take a deep breath, resisting his own pleasure to tease you some more.

"Joshua, please!" you whined, trying to resist the intense feeling that his fingers pushing on your wall caused, thinking that he was aiming to get you to tap out.

But you resisted, though, marveling over the controlled movements of his body, how he kept the pace of his hands steady, without pausing to rest.

"God, Joshua!" you yelped loudly when his fingers shifted, pressing on the right spot, causing you to flinch. Your other hand flew to hold onto your bed covers too.

"Yeah? Right there?" he asked, to then bite on his lower lip, watching you as you continued to writhe desperately, moaning for more.

"Please, please," you mewled over and over, now pleading for him to continue massaging on your glorious spot.

Joshua showed you a wolfish grin when you quickly switched your pleas. "You're gonna come, baby?" he purred with a mocking tone. "Aw, over some fingers? And here I thought you were begging to have my cock."

"Josh, please, god, please," you breathed, your jaw going slack when the plunging of his fingers inside you turned more forceful.

You cried out pathetically, screwing your eyes shut to let some tears run down your temples. A spurt of warm liquid came out of you, making you whimper dramatically and open your eyes to see his hand covered in your mess.

"You're making a mess, baby," Joshua sighed in awe while watching you squirt on his hand.

He grabbed his own t-shirt that was discarded on one corner of your bed and gently pressed it against your skin, cleaning all traces of his and your arousal.

"Mmph," you hummed with a sigh, propping up your body with your elbows on your bed. "Joshua, please. Fuck me, pl-please, fuck me."

He tossed the ruined t-shirt to a corner of your bedroom and nodded at the bed. "Move back for me, baby," he instructed, climbing on the bed after you.

His hands reached out to grab your legs by the back of your knees, pulling your body to the middle of the bed with a yank. Then Joshua pushed your legs up to your chest, thighs squeezing your tits as he leaned over you.

"Joshua, please, no teasing," you pleaded when he grabbed his cock with one hand, running the tip across your wet folds to see the reaction on your face when he pushed the tip in your entrance slowly.

"Tell me you want it," he said, his studded eyebrow quirking up slightly.

"I want it, Joshua," you replied instantly. "Please, I want it."

"Tell me you want me," he growled, pushing his cock inside you, inch by inch, stuffing you full, but ever so slowly.

"Please!" you gasped, sounding pathetic, your hands searching his shoulders to hold onto him, to urge him completely inside you. "I want you, Joshua, please, please."

Joshua pushed his chest against the back of your thighs, slipping his length inside you to his hilt. His hands shifted on your sides, one to support his own weight and the other to grab your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

"Gah,"you choked up, tears brimming in your eyes when he started pushing his cock inside you, his thrusts fucking you deeper than ever before. "Joshua, Joshua..."

"Yeah, baby. That's my name," he groaned softly, his brow furrowing with some strain. His hand left your chin, his fingers curling on the bed covers, as if he were trying with all of his strength not to lose his control on you.

"Hmmn," you mewled when he instantly reached a spot inside you that made pleasure course through your whole body like a bolt of lightning.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" he said through a raspy breath.

You felt the features of your face contort with the confusion that flashed in your mind, but you nodded nonetheless. "Yeah, it's you, Josh," you mewled. "It's all you."

Joshua kept his thrusts steady, fucking you deep and slowly. His eyes trained on your face as you continued to breath out lewd moans, your mouth parted, eyebrows knitted.

"That's my girl," he praised, a grunt coiling in his throat as his thrusts became more desperate. "My girl."

"Yours," you whispered entrancingly. "I'm yours only, Josh."

"You're mine," he blurted with a ragged breath.

You nodded, unable to utter a word. His thrusts were robbing the air out of you, ramming his cock in, plunging inside you so hard that you were reduced to lewd gasps, hot tears spilling from your eyes.

Joshua screwed his eyes shut for a second, a sharp breath leaving him as his hips slammed into your body, for a second that was all you heard, the sounds of skin slapping together combined with your ragged gasps, the sound of your bed creaking as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

A vein had started to pop on his forehead, his eyes were glistening but he kept them trained on yours. The beautiful features of his face went lax with lust, making him moan, the sound reverberating against your body.

For a second, you just looked at each other, so mad for each other, there were no words either of you could exchange to express what you felt.

"Bunny," he gasped with urgency. "Come for me."

You nodded, a hand searching his face, cupping his chin as you slowly gave into the pleasure blooming inside your body. Joshua turned to kiss the palm of your hand, a gesture so tender that betrayed the animalistic pace to which he was fucking you, making you his.

"I'm coming, 'm—Joshua!" you gasped as you came undone under him, pleasure flooding inside you, taking over every part of your body. Your orgasm hit you so hard you even felt it on your face, tingling in your cheeks, making you close your eyes.

Until you heard a gasp, Joshua came inside you a couple of seconds after you, emptying himself with shallow thrusts. But he didn't relent there, he lowered your legs immediately, clashing his mouth on yours.

Joshua eased his body on top of you, pressing his chest against yours to kiss you deeply, moaning in your mouth as he stopped thrusting his cum inside you sloppily.

Chests heaving, you wrapped him in your arms as he appeared to be blinking slowly, dropping his head in the crook of your neck to come down off his high. His weight was almost crushing you, but you welcomed the pressure from it, the warmth, the scent of his hair and his skin.

You ran the pads of your fingers on the line of his back, feeling him shudder hard but didn't protest against it. "I love you," you whispered.

Joshua didn't respond at first, he continued breathing hard on the curve where your jawline and your neck meet, pressing languid kisses on your skin every two seconds.

His hand crept up from your cheek to the back of your head, then he shifted on top of you to give you a shallow kiss on your lips. "I love you too, bunny."

You were a mess, your skin pricked where your tears had left a trail, your limbs were shaking beneath his weight, you felt a wet tingle where his and your body met.

"You were so good, baby," he whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek as he continued giving you shallow kisses. "Let me take care of you now, okay?" he pulled out of you, drawing a small groan from your mouth.

What happened next was nothing out of routine for you. He started the shower and carried you in bridal style, being that your legs were still shaking badly.

When you got back to the bedroom, he offered himself to towel dry your hair after you put on your bunny pyjamas. So you were sitting on the bed, Joshua was carefully pressing a towel around your hair for some minutes until you looked over your shoulder, and told him to stop.

He looked so tired, but focused on drying your hair, brushing it with his long fingers with so much care, sighing deeply.

"Baby, let's go to sleep, okay?" you offered sweetly.

"Yeah, okay," he whispered, getting up from your bed to discard the towel.

"I threw your t-shirt in the washing machine," you informed him as you crawled beneath the bed covers on your designated side of the bed.

You looked at your boyfriend, crossing the bedroom to slide his body beside yours, immediately wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer to him.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said tiredly.

You pressed your chest against him, reaching his pouty lips with your own for a tender kiss. "You don't have to thank me for that," you sighed, caressing his cheekbones with your fingertips. "Maybe you should consider leaving some clothes here. If you want to, obviously."

He pulled back slightly, eyeing you with curiosity. "O-okay, I will," he smiled softly.

For a second, you marveled at the sight of him and returned the smile.

"Or you could also consider moving in, when you get back from work. If... you want to," you breathed nervously, your eyes shifting from his face, unable to keep them locked with his.

Joshua didn't reply as fast as you initially thought he would. You almost thought you had said something crazy, something so insanely out of place for you that had left him speechless.

But he just looked at you fondly. A small sigh left him when his smile broadened.

"I'd love that, baby," he replied warmly.

"Okay," you whispered, reaching for his lips again.

What you intended for a sweet and tender kiss turned into a deep, hungry one in a matter of seconds. Joshua grunted in your mouth, a hand cupping your cheek as his tongue lapped on your lower lip, making you sigh a moan.

"Marry me," he blurted, his lips brushing yours in the process.

You laughed lazily in his mouth. "Okay."

"I mean it," he breathed, kissing the apple of your cheek, your eyelid, then an eyebrow, littering kisses all over your face.

"Baby," you protested. "You need to calm down."

"No," he growled, cupping your cheek with one hand. "I'm crazy about you. I want you with me in every way possible."

"Sleep first, baby boy," you teased. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Joshua rolled his eyes at your teasing, but he leaned in, giving you a soft kiss before you turned your back to his chest for him to hug you, fitting his body to the shape of yours.

You exhaled, pleased with the warmth exuding from his half naked body cuddling you, an arm over your waist, his breath caressing your neck, until,

"Baby," Joshua called softly, drawing a breath through his nose that denoted how tired he really was. "Would you feel better if you came along with me? On tour?"

"What are you talking about?" you asked, turning over on the bed to look at his face.

Joshua repositioned his head beneath his fist, lying now on his side. His free hand searched yours to lace his fingers with you. "I know with me being so busy, traveling and working, I've been making you feel a little neglected. I don't want to make you feel like this, I..." he looked to the corner of the room mindlessly, gathering his thoughts. "I want you close to me."

There were dark circles under his eyes, his lips were slightly chapped on the corners. But he kept his gaze trained on your face, there was a gentle calmness in him, just as the night he asked you to be his wife.

"We live very different lives, Josh," you whispered carefully, selecting your words. "I can't move around while writing a book. I kind of need stability to work."

"I don't want you to feel lonely," he said, his voice breaking a little when he uttered the last word.

"Well, then we just have to find a way we can make this work," you muttered softly. "I know that you don't want to make me feel neglected but your actions say the opposite."

"I know," he whispered, nodding with his head slowly. "I'm going to fix it, I promise."

"I'm going to need more than that, Josh," you mumbled, a small, cheeky smile appearing on your face.

His big dark eyes looked worried a second before he caught on your playfulness. "Yeah? And what would that be?"

"I'm going to need about a hundred kisses from you," you replied, your heart crushing over the smile that drew on his face.

"Just a hundred?" he taunted, his hand leaving yours and finding the crook of your neck, holding you gently as he leaned over your face to press a soft kiss, after the other, humming happily.

"Maybe two hundred."

"I can do more," he mumbled with a singsong tone.

"Three thousand, then."

Joshua chuckled breathily. "We're from hundreds to thousands that quickly?"

"Only if you want me to forgive you," you replied playfully between his tender kisses that he pressed against your lips.

"What else do you want?" he mumbled, his sweet voice laced with some raspiness.

"I want french toast for breakfast tomorrow," you said after a long moment of thought.

"You got it, Ms. Hong," he replied with a small smile, looking at you with such tenderness that you almost felt like sobbing. "What else?"

"I want you to take me out for a date," you said, now your tone sounding meek and tiny. "You're all talk with the Ms. Hong thing, but haven't taken me on an official date, yet, Mr. Hong."

"I will take you on a date," he muttered between kisses that were turning into more prolonged ones. "On several dates. For the rest of your life."

You cupped his cheek with one hand, and he ceased his shower of kisses to look into your eyes.

"I want you, Joshua," you whispered, trying to convey all your love into a couple of words.

"I want you too, bunny," he replied, his voice rendered into a mere whisper. "Forever."

✮ LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE READ IT 🗣️

hi there my lovelies!! ε(｡•᎑•`)っ♡

WE MADE IT! so let me tell you all a little story. when i started writing city lights, i only intended to write four chapters. but some of you guys convinced me to make it longer and i could write 8 chapters in total!! and i'm so glad i did cause i love writing long fics (as you probably noticed)

chapter 8 got soooo long and i'm sorry for having to split it haha. i guess introducing another main character into the mix does that huh? but there was sooooo many things i left out from this one! maybe i'll write them in the future!

I WILL BE POSTING A FINAL CHAPTER TO CITY LIGHTS SOON, but i would like you to take this chapter as the wrap up for the main story, given that the next chapter will be taking a turn for the dynamic between joshua and bunny. does that make sense? 👀

okay that's it for me. i love you all, drink water, use sunscreen, take your vitamins, your birth control pills or whatever it is that you do, take care of yaselves, i love youuuuuu ◕⩊◕

toodles

part 9

buy me a coffee? 🩵👉🏻👈🏻

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 12: LOOKING FOR THE NEW WORLD

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He was like a child despite being a man, one much bigger and stronger than you. Infinitely powerful, yet he could reduce himself into a creature of need so intensely that he’s convinced you that your touch is the only remedy.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, dubcon, oral sex, mentions of depression, angst, character death

ੈ✩ wc: 5k

ੈ✩ a/n: who else is sick of these two. i sure am

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

January, 2011

There’s a black cat that likes to hang out around your apartment. It’s small, a bit on the thinner side, with striking amber eyes. It reminds you of someone. 

It nuzzles against your legs now as you sit on the stoop, nursing your third cigarette of the night. Tobacco for dinner and some leftover hot and sour soup from the last time Shoko forced you to get takeout with her.

“You gotta stop with those,” she had muttered when you had finished eating, excusing yourself for a cigarette despite the snow. “You’re gonna fuck up your lungs at this rate.”

“How extremely hypocritical of you.”

“The nicotine makes you more anxious than before,” she laughed. “And I want you alive in this lifetime.”

You’d smiled weakly in response. Allowed yourself one cigarette before bed and another that was shared with her before she left for Tokyo again.

Your stomach rumbles again at the thought of real dinner. The cat sniffing you meows. 

“You’re hungry, too, huh?”

As if it understands you, it mewls. 

You ash your cigarette and scoop it up in your arms as you walk to the konbini for cat food and multiple cups of ramen. Despite the odd looks you get around the store, no one bothers you or reprimands you for having a little fur ball attached to your shoulder. 

The cat takes a liking to your apartment, immediately splaying itself on your carpet. You’d have to vacuum later if you were going to house it. Get a litter box, too. It was probably all against your lease, but it had been a long time since you had taken care of anyone other than yourself, and you were still lacking in that department ever since the previous autumn.

“Sorry about this,” you mutter as you pick up the cat, lifting it to the light. “Ah. A boy.”

The cat meows, as if agreeing. You decide to call him Jiji after the black cat in Kiki’s Delivery Service. A fitting resemblance. There’s an annoying, familiar voice in your head that tells you it’s a bit cliche.

The poor thing walks with a limp you don’t remember him having. There’s a deep cut on one of his back legs, probably left over from a stray dog that bit too hard. The flesh heals quickly with the slight of your hand.

He treats the place like a personal jungle, which is saying something considering how bare it is. You make yourself some subpar ramen, attempting to turn it into stir-fry with the puny vegetables in your fridge. It was something warm, at least. It goes nicely with the Asahi you bought. You’re allowing yourself maybe half of the six-pack tonight. Any more and you’d be inviting yourself to wade in a pool of pity.

You stare at the mini calendar on your fridge. The third of February is circled, taunting you. It wasn’t like you’d ever forget, but you marked it anyway as if to punish yourself. 

You jump when the doorbell rings. It can’t be Shoko. She’d left for Tokyo days before, and there was no reason for her to be back so soon. Utahime wasn’t the type to show up unannounced. 

For fuck’s sake, it couldn’t be. 

You didn’t even tell him where your new place was. The knocks on the door turn to a rhythmic pounding you recognize immediately and it makes you want to start digging your own hole. Begrudgingly, you open the door.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, the curl of a lip hinting at a teasing smile. There’s barely enough time for you to process a response back because of how quickly he walks in. 

“How did you know where I lived?”

Satoru grins, teeth and all. Annoyingly bright and shark-spiked, hair covered in light snow. 

“I have my ways, baby.”

“You need to leave.”

Jiji cowers curiously by the foot of the couch, blinking at the new stranger. Satoru looks at you quizzically.

“Replaced me already?”

“Yes.” 

He ignores you and plops down the paper bags he was carrying on the kitchen counter, like he’s done it a million times before. A bottle of rose, packaged daifuku. A carton of strawberries. For some reason, nearly everything in the grocery bag is pink.

“Got you your favorites.”

“Satoru, these are your favorites.”

“Ours, then,” he huffs childishly, pouting. “I was in town for a mission. Thought you would want to, uh, do something for his birthday.”

His last sentence is rushed like it’s an afterthought, but it’s the most damning one. You can’t help the rage in your veins when he says it. As if Suguru is dead or missing instead of flourishing on his own path. Rot turned to bloom.

While you glare at him, his expression is neutral, bordering on sheepish.

“You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts, so.”

“Because I didn’t want to talk to you,” you say bluntly.

He sighs. “You can’t ignore me, forever, y’know.”

Something bitter crawls up the cavern of your chest at the same time something heats up. It wasn’t fair, the way he looked at you all pouty. It made you feel like you did when you were merely the maid’s daughter, wanting to appease him in any way you could. You feel slightly nauseous despite your stomach feeling terribly empty. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Have you talked to him?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs.

The two of you stare at each other in silence for a bit before you clear your throat. 

“Thanks for the groceries, but you can take them back to your hotel or whatever. You can’t stay here.”

“I’m not trying to crash at your apartment, anyway.”

“Then what are you trying to do, Satoru?”

“Seduce you, I suppose,” he mutters. “I’m sure the hotel mattress I have would be better for your back. You can—”

“No.”

“Fine. Have dessert with me. A glass of wine. I just want to be with you.”

You curse yourself. Satoru is always tempting just by being himself, but you did really like the brand of wine he brought. Right now, you need a drink more than anything else. 

Watching reality TV with Satoru is not how you expect to spend your night. The silence is uncomfortable, nearly suffocating. It’s not difficult to notice how much he wants to touch you, his fingers twitching on the fabric of your couch. 

“Where’d this fucker come from?” He nods his head towards Jiji, who has jumped onto your left shoulder. You can sense jealousy in his tone, funnily enough.

“Don’t call him that,” you scold, rolling your eyes. “He was a stray. Got bitten by something so I healed him up.”

“How lucky.”

“Uh huh.”

Satoru clears his throat and thumbs around the rim of his wine glass. Fidgety. He leans closer to you, petting Jiji as an excuse. 

“How’s the… independent study? Or whatever.”

“It’s good. I work at the greenhouse every other day.”

He nods slowly and pours you both another glass. It doesn’t take long for you both to finish the bottle. His cheeks are as pink as the daifuku, half-eaten and abandoned on a plate in front of him. You’ve graduated to playful quips despite your mostly guarded demeanor, feet hoisted on his lap as he rubs them absentmindedly. 

“You should probably get back to your hotel.”

“Huh?”

You look at him. Satoru’s gaze flickers in between mischief and reverence. He’s also clearly not paying attention to what you’re saying considering his eyes are fixed on your bare shoulder. 

“It’s late,” you sigh.

“Not that late,” he scoffs. “S’not even ten.”

“I have a lab early tomorrow,” you lie.

“...Alright. Wanna finish this for me, then?” He holds out the last half of the mochi and feeds it to you. He blushes slightly. You still open your mouth for him without having him to ask. 

“It’s good.”

He nods. Leans over to wipe a bit of red bean paste off the corner of your mouth with his thumb. His eyes lower onto your lips as he sighs, right before he kisses you.

You let him. 

He feels the same as he always does. It’s been almost two months since you’d touched him — the last time being inside a karaoke bar bathroom an hour after Shoko had convinced you to come out for Satoru’s birthday. 

You had done so, unwillingingly, still not over the wound of being left and still angry with Satoru. Even so, it was still easy for him to make your knees weak, leading you into a random stall in the men’s bathroom while Shoko and Utahime forced Nanami to sing an 80s ballad. 

It was your first time properly spending time with the underclassman, so it embarrassed you immensely to walk out with your lipstick smudged. You remember overhearing Nanami ask Utahime about you and Satoru, to which she simply laughed in pity.

They’re on and off?

Divorced right now, Shoko had quipped.

Gojo was married to her?!

Fuck no. He wishes.

“Sato—” you mumble into his mouth.

He shuts you up with his tongue against yours, his hand cupping your chin. You knew he would get you a little tipsy and probably make a move, and you knew full well that you would let him. He chased you easily even when he could have anyone he wanted. 

His movements are sloppy and languid. Drunk, perhaps — he was a lightweight through and through. He groans lightly at the taste of you, how sweet you are like always. His other hand moves to your nape, clutching the back of your head to rest on the couch cushion with him hovering over you. Already, he was slotting his knee in between your legs. 

Satoru could already feel his insides stir at the thought of being inside you again. It had been too fucking long. He was sure that his dick would probably melt once you let him in. 

When you feel his hand underneath your sweater, you break the kiss. He sees it as an interruption rather than an end as he chases you, face leaning in again. He was pretty when he was drunk on you, eyes half-lidded like that. It was infuriating. 

It takes you a slight push and a turning of the head for him to realize that you don’t want him. 

“Why are you—”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I– I don’t want to.”

His face falls. You can’t stand it, how he looks like a kicked puppy. You refuse to fall for it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back with me?” he tries. “To the hotel?”

You’d slap him if you could. Your hands don’t move an inch. They only tremble.

“I said no. I’m sorry—” Why are you apologizing? “I have to get to bed.”

He blinks at you, dejected. For once, he doesn’t beg. Doesn’t give you a smartass reply. He stands and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Okay,” he sighs. He wants to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t. “Sweet dreams, Twigs.”

June, 2010

There’s a funeral before you leave for Kyoto. It’s the first time you deal with the corpse of a classmate.

You’d watched Shoko work in the morgue meticulously, wrapping the body in plastic. You knew she was probably used to the smell of death by now. At that moment, you were both numb to it.

“You don’t have to stay here, Nanami-kun,” you told your junior softly. He’d been sitting next to you in a plastic folding chair with a warm towel over his eyes for nearly half an hour, saying nothing.

“It’s fine. Not like they’d dare to assign me another mission right away.”

You glance at Nanami now, dressed in all black, and his face looks even more tired than it was under the morgue fluorescents. Sallow and pale, his complexion matching Suguru’s. 

You were all much too young to go to so many funerals.

The smell of death still lingers at the ceremony, too. It must be psychosomatic, the way the suffocating temple air makes your gut twist into itself. Yu Haibara’s smiling portrait stares back at you. 

You’d never experienced anything like this before. You knew the cost of being a jujutsu sorcerer, the horror of nearly losing Satoru the subject of your nightmares. It was different for it to be real, to pick up the bones of a boy whose light shone so brightly with chopsticks. 

Suguru looks older than he is. You noticed lately that the circles under his eyes have gotten worse, sometimes like a bruised purple in the shadows of his room. He didn’t leave it often, never opened his blinds despite it being summer. Morose as he is, he still looks beautiful.

You sit in between him and Satoru during the service. You shed no tears. No one does—the grief is all-consuming, wrangling everyone by the throat. You’re sure your fellow classmates are feeling numbness more than anything. 

You crawl into Suguru’s bed that night. He almost doesn’t acknowledge you, save for the movement of his arm over your middle when you nestle into his chest. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower he took. He hadn’t bothered to put his clothes back on.

“You okay?” you whisper. “We missed you at dinner.”

“Migraines,” he mumbles. He’s been getting a lot of them lately. That or nausea. Another thing that was psychosomatic—Suguru could barely eat lately because of the nausea. Even when he eats enough, it’s there, as if the curses he swallows are making a cesspool of his gut. 

He blames it all on heat fatigue, but you know better. Even with his model-like cheekbones, his face is starting to look a little thinner. 

“Did you take anything for it?”

“Yeah,” he lies. He might’ve taken some gas station gummy just so he could pass out and maybe not wake up for twelve hours before you came in. 

You hum softly, threading your fingers through his damp hair. It’s too wet for him to be resting on his pillow. You want to comb it for him, dry him with the towel like a beloved pet. He breathes shallowly as he revels in the feeling of your fingers across his scalp.

“Have you been drinking enough water?”

“Christ. Yes.”

Suguru immediately regrets his sharp tone the minute he sees your eyes flicker with meekness. He sighs, cradling you closer.

“Sorry. I’m just… fucking tired.”

“Yeah, me too.” There’s an awkward silence. 

“God,” you mumble, almost to yourself. “What happened was horrible.”

“Ha. That’s reality. Could be any of us tomorrow, or the next day.”

It’s an awful thing to say, but you know he’s right. He doesn’t say it to be spiteful or insensitive, but his words sting nonetheless. It’s the air of bitterness you can sense from the lilt of his tongue. You know it isn’t directed at you, but it still feels uncomfortable when you’re trying to be affectionate with him. 

He looks at the sadness in your eyes and makes an attempt to change the subject. “Do you wanna… watch a movie or something?”

“I should probably go to bed soon. I have an early mission tomorrow.”

“Seriously? After what just happened?”

“I don’t really have a say in what gets assigned to me,” you say sheepishly. 

“We all keep throwing ourselves back into work. The very work that gets our friends killed,” Suguru scoffs. “And for what? For a bunch of weaklings? Fuck.”

You pinch your brows together. “Suguru–”

“They’re the ones making the curses, anyway,” he mutters. “It’s fucking ironic that we have to protect the weak but we’re the ones who are never protected. Always martyred, instead.”

“The weak?”

“Non-sorcerers. Us sorcerers exist to protect the weak—it’s bullshit, sometimes.”

“You sound like Satoru.”

He lets out a bitter laugh at that. “So I’ve really gone off the deep end, huh?”

“No,” you sigh, caressing his jaw. “We’re all just grieving. I’ve been feeling a little crazy, too.”

He looks at you earnestly, licks his lips. “Kyoto will be nice.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I suppose it will be nice.”

“Don’t you get sick of it all?”

“Of being a sorcerer?”

Everything, he wants to scream.

“I don’t know. It’s the first thing I’ve done for myself. I mean, for others, too—that’s the whole thing—but it means more. Like I’m… worth something.”

“You’re worth a lot more than that. You always have been.”

There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, as if he’s also telling himself the same thing. You’re not exactly sure what he means. You like being useful, you’ve learned to like having to perfect your technique. You know you will never be as strong as Satoru or Suguru. You don’t know that Suguru is metamorphosing into something beyond his control, ever since he saw a bullet go through a girl’s skull.

His words stick with you as you fall asleep in his bed.  

You’re worth more.

September, 2010

You feel like you’re about to vomit. Blood trickles down Satoru’s palm, the sharp pin of the button in his hand still in his unfurling fist. 

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Yaga-Sensei grimaces. “Suguru fled after killing everyone in the village.”

You can’t look anyone in the eye. You only stare at the blood on Satoru’s palm, thinking of his hands, of Suguru’s. Hands that were soft around your neck, rough on your waist and down the planes of your thighs. Hands that killed 112 people in a small village. 

When you couldn’t call him, you took the bullet train to Tokyo immediately. You thought he’d gone missing, ran away, anything but the reality of the situation. Suguru could be sharp-tongued, had rigid edges, but he was always kind. He believed in fairness above all—it was what you admired most about him. Even when he could be cruel, he could be kind.

You didn’t think he could be cruel enough to commit a mass murder in cold blood. You feel the hallway spinning, nausea crawling up your sternum and up to your head. Suguru had killed a village, and he’s left you and Satoru, and he didn’t even say goodbye.

You really need to lay down before you throw up. 

Yaga cancels your missions, so you have nothing to distract you. Nothing to do with your hands except curl your fingers around the cool bed sheet beneath you. For the next day, you stay like this — twisted inside yourself, knees tucked to your chest. Satoru is there, too, and for the first time in his life, he has nothing to say. This is a kind of grief that neither of you knows how to deal with.

“Satoru,” you whisper. “We should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said you haven’t eaten since this morning,” you frown.

He shrugs. He was fine with laying in bed with you, suspended in the thick tension of unspoken words. Satoru was often explosive when he was angry, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything about Suguru’s betrayal. Not unless he could find him on his own, but at this rate, Suguru could be out of the city already. 

He’s slightly watery-eyed. Something is dormant inside of him and you’re waiting for it to snap, show its teeth. You are ready to be the thing in between his canines.

He takes you eventually. Wakes you in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, prompted by nightmares of fire and bloodshed and Suguru’s glare. Satoru claws at you in his sleep until you’re holding his face and shaking him, telling him to breathe slowly. 

His breathing only gets faster. The hole that Suguru leaves inside of him needs to be filled. 

And then, your hair is in between his fists, your flesh in between his teeth. He has to take you apart so you’re like him, but you know that you had fallen apart the moment Suguru’s phone number failed when you tried to call him. 

“Satoru,” you whine. “Slow down.”

“Can’t,” he mutters, his voice rough as he gropes you in the dark. “Fuck, sorry. Need you. Missed you.”

With the way he manhandles you, you might think he’s sleepwalking. His eyes are wide open, midnight blue in the darkness. He whines when you turn away from him. 

“Please,” he chokes out. “Need it.”

You’d seen him like this before. Desperate, begging, frantic—usually because he was upset or angry. He would never tell you the details of what was in his head, only that he absolutely needed you, needed your body to satiate him. Your body was a temple for him to confess and repent in, yet it hollowed you out as if you were the one sinning.

“Shhh,” you coo, nervous. “It’s alright.”

He was like a child despite being a man, one much bigger and stronger than you. Infinitely powerful, yet he could reduce himself into a creature of need so intensely that he’s convinced you that your touch is the only remedy. 

You wrap your arms around him and he intertwines your legs together. You can feel his cock against your stomach. His face is buried in your neck, teeth nipping your collarbone. You always let him take all of you when he’s like this, never minding the feeling of being stretched thin, a taut sinew inside a predator’s mouth. You would be the balm to his chaos, always.

He lets out a heavy breath when he moves your panties to the side and his tip catches on your entrance. It’s a sound of relief, of quenched thirst. You gasp when he fits himself all the way inside you. Your body feels like a geyser ready to erupt.

He’s done this before after nightmares, after tough missions. Sometimes you would be asleep —you told him you didn’t care, and usually, you don’t. To be wanted by Satoru felt like a blessing even when it hurt like a curse.

You were sick on each other. 

His movements are hurried, kissing your neck sloppily as he ruts against you. He pushes inside and begins with quick thrusts. A full nest inside of you, your walls melting. He squeezes you tightly, his arms almost painfully clutching your waist as if he needed you tethered to him, skin sticking to skin. 

You aren’t wet enough for you to cum just yet. It was aching in you a little bit, the deepness of his cock inside you.

“S-Satoru,” you whine. “Hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up — fuck — make it up to you.”

He pulls out of you and throws you against the bed, holding your legs down and parted for his mouth. He eats you like a meal, his mouth sucking on your clit brutally enough for you to become overwhelmed. He sighs as he feels you gush around his fingers. 

“Close,” you gasp. “Fuck me.”

He turns you over and humps in between your legs, slipping in and holding you down. His weight on you is almost comforting. Your head feels like it’s underwater. 

“You can take it,” he hums. He kisses your nape, bites at your shoulder. If he wasn’t so delirious about it, needing you as much as he does, he would take his time. Write his name into your skin with love bruises.

His cock had to be stirring your insides together, your cunt like whipped butter. He groans when you clench around him. He knows how close you are, despite being half-asleep, half-feral. He’s had you memorized. 

It was too hot for him to be on you like this, his body too heavy. You come at the same time, both of your voices blending together into a choked whimper. Your hair sticks to your neck with sweat.

“Y’feel so good,” Satoru mutters. “All the time.”

He gets up to piss eventually, otherwise he probably would’ve fallen asleep inside you. You hadn’t noticed the small tears at the corner of your eyes. You come back to yourself, feeling a flurry of emotions come out of your pores—sweat and tears, Satoru’s warmth spilling out of you like dripping candle wax. 

He holds you again and strokes your hair in silent apology. You fall asleep. You don’t dream.

He’d fucked you into the next afternoon, apparently, because you don’t wake up until 1 pm. The sheets are warm with his presence, but there isn’t a warm body next to you.

When he comes back, his eyes are bloodshot. 

“Satoru?”

“He… he left,” he says. 

“What do you mean he left?” 

“Shoko found him and called me. He thinks he can create a world without non-sorcerers, he’s fucking—“

“Satoru!” you snap. 

He shuts up, looks at you with big eyes, wet and dark. 

“You— you saw him?”

“Yeah, just now—”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you demand.

He blinks at you, at a loss for words. He was half-asleep when Shoko called, scrambled to put on pants before he basically warped to the middle of Shinjuku. Seeing Suguru again was whiplash. 

“I didn’t want to—you look so peaceful when you’re sleeping, y’know,” he stammers, running a hand through his haphazard white locks. Lingering bedhead. “And I didn’t want Suguru to think we were, you know, ganging up on him—”

“I wouldn’t care about being woken up if I got to see him!” you scoff. 

“You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset he’s my… he’s my friend, too!”

I loved him, too.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

You must be red in the face. Your face stings with a wash of irritation, your nose twitching as if you’re about to cry. 

“What did you say to him?”

“He’s turned his back on Jujutsu society. That’s all there is to it. He thinks it’s justice.”

“You didn’t try to stop him? You just let him go?”

“I couldn’t kill him. You know that,” he says, his expression hard. 

Your throat catches on a lump, a ball of malignant rage threatening to choke you. The red string that connects you and Suguru has frayed limp. Between you and Satoru, it only tightens around your neck. 

“I could’ve talked to him,” you start babbling. “I could’ve–”

“Don’t be stupid. You know how stubborn he is. You really think that you would’ve made a difference?”

You narrow your eyes, wiping them before tears start to fall. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I just… I just know him–”

“And I don’t?” you snap. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s what you’re implying.”

Satoru scoffs. “You don’t get it. He’s set on this idea of his. You wouldn’t have changed his mind, I promise you.”

You shut your eyes, feeling the dagger of his gaze twist itself into your chest. There was that feeling again—knowing that you would never be like either Satoru or Suguru. You knew that perhaps Satoru would have more power over him, and despite that, he still left. 

You weren’t there for the past two months, didn’t see the dead look in his eyes. You would never understand him. You think that maybe no one would. You hate how desperately you wanted to know him, how intensely you would claw your way for love in a way that mattered. Years of being with Satoru proved that—you still felt beneath him. Beneath both of them.

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t shut down. You always do that when you get upset,” Satoru grimaces.

You chew on the skin under your lip nervously. Your hands shake. You hate that Suguru has probably only shown a certain percentage of himself to you. There was no room for you to be entitled to the intricacies of his brain. 

The space between you and Satoru is a chasm. You don’t know what to do with your frustration. The only options in your head right now are to take it out on him or let it fester within yourself until you explode. Neither will do much in terms of closure. 

Satoru stares at you with jealousy stirring underneath his skin. It’s the earnestness in your hurt expression. It’s making the guilt inside him multiply like a virus.

“Are you in love with him?” Satoru asks, his voice hoarse.

You blink at him. “I don’t know,” you whisper.

“Do you love him more than you love me?”

“What? What does that have to do with–”

“Just answer.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you mutter. 

Satoru winces, your words a sharp sting to his face. He hadn’t preferred either of you over the other, but he was protective of you in a way that he didn’t feel for Suguru. It ran deep enough to make him crazy—Suguru knew that. For some reason, it wasn’t anything that Satoru could admit out loud. 

He sighs heavily. “I love both of you. You know that.”

“Why are you asking this, Satoru?”

“Because… fuck. Because it doesn’t matter how much you and I loved him! It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s gone, okay?”

He’s too consumed with the thought of you beside him on that sidewalk, surrounded by a crowd. Tunnel vision set on a beautiful boy with sharp eyes, casually ready to leave the both of you in the dust. Part of him hates how much you love Suguru, how much Suguru seemed to love you back. He hates how much you’re fussing over his best friend when all he’s ever done since he met you was fuss over you. 

He hates how much he loves Suguru. So much so that out of his own selfishness, he wanted to face him alone when Shoko called. He didn’t want you beside him when he confronted Suguru, didn’t want to see the inevitable tears on your face once Suguru walked away. 

Satoru is convinced that you were made from him, and if he’s lost one soulmate, he refuses to lose another. 

And yet, you look at him coldly, like you’re going to leave, and his heart jumps out of his chest.

[x-reader-theater]

Breaking and Entering {1}

summary: Someone breaks into your flat through the window, and you don't have enough energy left to care.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Gender Neutral!Reader

word count: 1801

warnings: The Reader is described as having depression and suicidal ideations. Nothing is done about it, but it's very obvious so if you don't think you can handle that please do not read.

a/n: this is also going to be a series, but i have no idea how long it's going to take to finish it or how long it's gonna be. also if you haven't seen, my requests are open and you can find my request rules here.

Breaking and Entering Series: {Chapter 1}, {Chapter 2}, (You can also use the tag #breaking and entering series as well if you don't want to use links)

It was supposed to be a normal night. Lonely. Depressed. It was going to be the perfect terrible night.

So of course someone had to ruin it.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, about to disassociate and share at the wall across from you for eight hours, when you have to go back to work, when you hear a loud crash coming from beside you.

“Shit!” you exclaim, jumping back and over the back of your chair, stumbling over it and smacking the back of your head on your old wooden floors.

“Shit,” you hear a low, gravely voice say from where the smashing sound came from.

Your vision is blurry for a moment, but it clears as you see a skull leaning over you. The skull talks, but your ears have started ringing, subsiding right as he finishes talking.

“What?” you ask, dazed and probably a lot more calm for someone who just had a floating skull smash through what was probably their window, but you’re too dazed right now to really care.

“I said,” the heavily accented skull says and as your vision clears, you see the skull isn't actually floating, but is attached to a body covered in what looks to be some sort of tactical gear. “Sit up. I want to have a look at your head.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you say, before slowly sitting up. The man holds out his arm, and you feel his hand on your back push you up as well. He shifts, so he’s looking at the back of you, and you stare forward at the wall, trying to get your senses back.

“I don't see a wound,” the man mumbles, probably just intended for himself, but you definitely heard. You’re just too shocked to say anything. The man sits in front of you again, his hand still on your back as he pulls out what looks to be a pen light. He holds it up in front of your eyes, and you move away from it, but he reaches out with the hand holding the light and places it gently on your cheek, pushing your head, so it’s facing you again. “Stay still.” Gus gruff voice is contradictory to how gentle he's handling you right now. “I need to look at your pupillary response.”

You try to sit still, though you still jump at the bright light. He flashes the light in your eye and away and back again a couple of times, moving onto the second one and doing the same, before finally clicking it off again. You sigh in relief.

“Response looks good, but you should probably have someone monitor you in case something happens,” the man says. “Does anyone else live here?”

“No,” you say, probably unwisely but, again, you’re exactly sound of mind right now.

“Do you have anyone you can call? A friend or a neighbour? Someone who might stay with you and take care of you?”

You shake your head, but instantly regret it as it causes a lance of pain to shoot through your skull. You hiss and clutch at your temple.

“Careful,” the man admonishes, his voice gentler than it has been. “You don't have anyone?”

“No,” you say, watery and thick with building mucus. You blink a few times to drive the tears back as you are suddenly faced with how lonely you really are.

The man hums, but doesn’t say anything more, instead opting to ask, “What’s your name?”

You wipe at your eyes to get any stray tears and say with a tight throat, “[Y/N]. What about you?”

“You can call me Ghost,” is all he says.

You chuckle. “Terrifying,” you mock. You think you hear a laugh coming from the man, but underneath that skull mask you can’t tell. You get up and walk over to the freezer, grabbing a Ziplock bag you left on the counter a little while ago. You fill the baggie with ice before walking back over to the table and flipping the chair back onto its feet before sitting down again. Pressing the ice to the back of your head, you wince as you ask, “What are you anyways? What are you doing in my flat?”

“It's classified,” Ghost says.

“Ooooooooooooh,” you draw out, nodding. “You're military, aren't ya?” When the man doesn’t answer, you make a clicking sound with your teeth. “Right. Classified.”

“I could be a murderer,” the man says suddenly.

“I mean, so could I,” you say, just as cryptically as he did. “Besides. If you really are in the military like I totally think you are, you probably have killed people so, you’re probably right that you’re a murderer. But I’m also not a soldier so if you did kill me that would be like, some sort of violation of something, right? If not totally illegal,” you ramble, using your one free arm to gesture wildly as you talk.

“Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” Ghost asks finally after you take a pause.

You stare at him, taken aback by the question before saying, “Uh, aha… you could say that my will to live is currently… wilted, at the moment.”

Ghost stares at you for a long moment, for several moments even, and you fidget underneath his gaze. When you glance at his eyes, you see they’re a deep brown, almost black, ringed with black eye makeup to conceal anything that could give away his identity, you guess.

When he finally speaks again, he says, “Maybe you could use a friend right now.”

You stare at him blankly, and say, “Yes, I want the masked soldier man who broke through my window to be my friend…”

“Do you have much of a choice otherwise?” Ghost asks and your mouth clicks shut with a clack of your teeth. You look away, dropping the hand with the ice and wrapping your arms around your body.

“Why are you doing this to me?” you ask, finally raising your eyes and catching Ghost’s stare.

“Because I’ve been you,” he states plainly. “You’re better off alive than dead.”

The way he says it so plainly, in a way you’ve never heard before, it makes your heart thud in your chest, like it hasn't beat for so long that no it finally is, it has to work in overdrive to pump blood through your veins. You've gotten the pitying glances, you’ve felt the patronising slaps on the shoulder, and you’ve heard the infuriating “It will get better soon” speeches.

But this six foot, masked, most likely military, stranger, telling you he was just like you? Somehow, that's what makes you have a little hope. Because he’s still here.

“There must be something wrong with you to want to be friends with someone whose window you just crashed through,” you judge, putting the ice back against your head.

Ghost sighs but gets up, going to your oven and grabbing the tea towel. He walks back over to you and gently pries the baggie of ice from your hand, wrapping it up in the towel and placing it back on the back of your head, moving your hand, so it’s placed on top of his before he slips his hand out from under yours. “I think there’s always been something a little wrong with me,” he says, and you look up at him standing over you, that white skull with brown eyes looking down and through you. You expect him to say something serious, but instead he says, “I’m wearing a fuckin’ mask, there’s obviously something wrong with me.”

You stare at him for a moment before bursting out laughing, wrapping your free arm around your stomach as you howl out laughter, probably more laughter than the situation required, but you just can’t stop. Eventually you suck in large lungfuls of air, hiccuping as you try and catch your breath, wiping your eyes for the second time today, but this time for a different reason.

When you catch your breath, you look over at Ghost who has sat down again, and you see his eyes are crinkled and his shoulders and bouncing up and down, and you realise he’s laughing as well.

You watch as he laughs, realising he’s been tense since the moment he got here. Now, he seems relaxed and open. You can see the laughter in his eyes before he closes them and throws his head back in bliss. This, human connection, laughing with someone else, just being near someone who doesn’t hate you, you think it could help fix you. Maybe not entirely, you’ll need more help for that, therapy and maybe some drugs, but having someone else, it could really help you.

And you don’t want to lose that.

“Will you come back?” you ask while Ghost is still laughing. He takes a moment to catch his breath, steadying himself again.

“When I’m in town, I’ll stop by,” he says, his voice sounding inhumanly steady after laughing so hard for so long. The control he has over himself makes him even more alluring.

You smile and nod. “Yeah. I’d like that.” You feel your eyes begin to get heavy, and you ask, “Is it okay for me to sleep?”

Ghost nods. “You don’t have a concussion. But I’ll stay until I have to go.”

“No one’s going to follow you here, right?” you ask, laying your head down on the table and placing the towel-wrapped bag of ice on the table next to your face.

Ghost chuckles guiltily. “No, I think before I smashed through your window, I lost them.”

“Why did you crash through my window?” you ask, fading off to sleep.

“I slipped,” you hear Ghost’s low voice mumble as it lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Ghost is gone. In his place there’s a small sticky note like the ones in a drawer in your kitchen, a pen that looks like it’s from that drawer as well. Probably because it is from that drawer, you realise as you rub your eyes to try and get them to work again. When they finally clear a little more, you see that the sticky note is a lot bigger than it should be. Grabbing it and pulling it towards you, you see there’s money folded neatly underneath it. Unfolding it, you see a couple hundred dollars, and on the note it says, “Sorry for your window.”

Looking over at the window, you see Ghost has patched up the window temporarily with a rubbish bag and some tape. You have no idea how he could have slipped and fallen into your seventh story flat, but you also don’t really care. You clutch the note to your chest with a smile, the first real smile you’ve felt in years.

[blue-disco-lights]

First Line Analysis ✍️

Thank you sweet friends for the tag! @energievie @wehangout @bawlbrayker @suzy-queued @mybrainismelted

@sgtmickeyslaughter @lingy910y @rayrayor @ms-moonlight-inn

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

“Hey Gallagher, you got a car?” Magnificent Mile 

“Asshole. Same as fuckin’ always,” Ian mumbled under his breath. Camp is a Battlefield (chapter 3)

Ian (9:14pm): hi babe gonna add some stuff to the grocery list in like 15 when i’m on break love u 😘 Groceries Mickey woke up to what felt like a bright projector light shining in his eyes. What the fuuuck. Chasing Waves

“Just one more signature … here… aaand, right here… and we should be all set.”  Running Into You Mickey sees him for the first time late on a Friday afternoon. Breathing Underwater He doesn’t know why they’d pair him up with Mickey Milkovich of all people. The Hall Monitors “Daaaad you don’t understand!! He gives us SO much homework. And he kept threatening to take everyone’s phones away today! We weren’t doing ANYthing!” The Parent-Teacher Conference (@galladrabbles series)  “Your brother’s an asshole, Mands,” Ian says as they walk from school, huddled together against the wind. Remember This? Conclusions: Well Ian apparently loves calling Mickey an asshole - he's either exasperated with him, or texting him cute emojis - and i think that's quite canon 😂 and i like starting off with someone talking to jump right into a scene i guess!

Tagging all of you incredible talents ✨ @jrooc @em-harlsnow @roryonic

@spookygingerr @spacerockwriting @depressedstressedlemonzest @look-i-love-u @palepinkgoat

@gallawitchxx @celestialmickey @sam-loves-seb @jessij1997 @ohkate

@transmurderbug @silvanshadow @thisdivorce @gembu-tortuesouscafeine

@southsidestory @ian-galagher @starcrossedsoulmates84 @stocious @the-rat-wins

@ifallonblackdays @solitarycreaturesthey @mmmichyyy @catgrassplantdad @atthedugouts

@mmmichyyy @shippergirl121fic @creepkinginc @honeyvanillin @darlingian

@thepupperino @crossmydna @sweetbee78 @gallabitch73 @too-schoolforcool

[labrxnth]

EotP Chapter 1: Into Darkness (Leon x Reader Series)

Tag List:

WC: 3310

CWs: some heinous forced father figure shit, human experimentation, PTSD, kidnapping, cannon level body horror, cannon level swearing and violence, body comparison.

AN: So, This monster is finally here now that Prison Break is done. I'm thinking of a schedule that I can accurately keep, maybe one chapter every two weeks. This series will span over all of Resident Evil, it's gonna be a big boy so strap in.

If you want to be on the tag list, comment and it'll be done.

Spotify Link: Listen along to the playlist I've curated for this fanfic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The first thing you experienced about the apocalypse wasn’t the loud sirens, explosions, or screaming. It was how quiet it was. The usual fluorescent lights of the lab testing floor you were on were still burning as bright as ever, your eyes trailing the multitude of doctors and nurses scrambling through the hall, clipboards and keycards in hand. 

Your hand placed itself on the glass wall, confused as to why the doctors and scientists were acting more skittish than usual. The feeling you had in your stomach turning into a deeper pit. Anxiety swelling inside of you. 

Even without any of the chemicals dumped into you through the many syringes “gifted” to you, your intuition was off the charts. You knew something was wrong. 

Hearing the usual vroom of the door to your cell opening, your eyes turned to it, seeing the scientist usually in charge of you with a lead in hand. He stood in the doorway, his salt and pepper hair slicked back like it always was. His glasses were pristine, no scratches or dirt on them, his lab coat and scrubs eerily clean. 

“Subject 13, we’re moving you,” David said, his voice not leaving room for question. 

You nodded, walking up to him. David had been in charge of you since you got here at the ripe age of 10. A decade of being trapped in these four walls, not seeing the outside. 

The last time you were outside, the whole world felt like it was dripped in neon. The lights, the hair, the makeup, everything. All you wanted was a Barbie doll or a cabbage patch kid. Now, the world to you was white walls, white floors, and people wearing all white. 

David clasped the lead onto your thin collar, starting to walk the opposite end down the hallway that you were used to. You only ever walked to the left of your cell, not the right. Today you were going to the right, following all the other doctors and scientists. 

“Where are we going?” You asked quietly. 

“Hm?” David asked, not even bothering to look over you. 

You took a second, looking down at your feet while you walked. Taking a deep breath, you get ready to rephrase your sentence. “Father, where are you taking me?” You rephrased. 

He smiled back at you, his yellow cigarette smoke stained teeth being visible from behind his lips. “My flower, we’re relocating you.” He responded, then looked forward. 

Relocation….. 

You’ll get to see another part of the world. Maybe if you were lucky, you’d be able to see outside through windows. The idea thrilled you more than the fear of being sent to another location. But still, one thought loomed over you, the NEST had been your home for the past 10 years, why were they moving you now?

“Father, why?” You asked, watching people run by you. The hairs on the back of your neck were sticking up, matching the anxiety of everyone else besides David. 

“Because, My Flower, someone messed up on one of the upper floors,” He replied. His tone was always condescending, infantilizing you, talking down to you. He acted like you were still 10 like when he “found you”. 

“Messed up?” You asked. He never told you about stuff happening on the upper floors, you were hoping that he’d be willing to go into deeper detail if he was already in a talking mood. 

“Birkin…. messed with something that he shouldn’t have,” He responded and left it at that. 

Birkin…. That had to be a person by the way he was talking. You had searched your memory, trying to figure out if you ever came into contact, but couldn’t remember anything. 

As the two of you walked through a set of double doors, the hallway changed from white to a blaring red. An alarm was going off, along with the emergency lights, making the hallway a sensory nightmare. 

You squeezed your eyes closed, attempting to quell the migraine you were starting to get from everything. 

After going through another set of double doors, you felt yourself rising from the ground. Opening them in a panic, you noticed you were in an elevator, making your way to the surface. How long had it been since you were in an elevator last? It had to have been at the mall, while you were waiting impatiently to get to Orange Julius. 

The mall that had just opened up down the road from where you lived. The same mall where a strange man in a suit came up to you and asked you where your parents were.

The same one where you were taken from, never to see the outside world again. 

“Where will we go?” You asked, your (e/c) eyes meeting his face. 

“Where we go,” David replied dryly. 

You nodded, discontent with the answer, but pushing your feelings aside like you had been trained to do. If you dug too far, it would only spell more pain and suffering for you; curiosity was not a trait celebrated by Umbrella Corp. 

He led you down another hallway, the lead tugging at your neck, an uncomfortable feeling, making you seem like a dog. Your place was a lab rat, property owned by Umbrella Corp. You were truly David’s bitch through and through. Something he held over you. 

After a mind numbing walk through more hallways than you could count, you felt the cold air prick your face. Your nose breathed in the fresh air for the first time in a decade, tears almost welling in your eyes at the nostalgic feeling of it. It was crisp, but warm at the same time. Smelling like nothing, but everything all at once. Where the air smelled like cleaner and chemicals in your cell, the air here smelled of an electric charge, a storm on the horizon, and the calamity happening in the city. 

Looking around, you saw the city horizon line. There were more lights than when you were brought here, assuming you were looking at the same side of the building from before. You saw the misty haze sweeping over the city, the pine trees in the background surrounding the mountains in the faint distance. If you could see the roads, you would have seen the destruction breaking out around you. 

You would have seen the hell emerging from the depths of where you were kept. 

Looking forward, you saw a military grade helicopter, the same type they brought you here in. When you were first taken, you remembered every single detail you could with hope you could somehow make it out. 

Obviously, you were naïve. 

David ushered you into the helicopter, taking his seat in the pilot’s. Two U.S.S. (Umbrella Security Services) agents accompanied the two of you on the helicopter, guns drawn. One was pointed off the ramp, the other was pointed at you. At this point, you would have either been an idiot or had a death wish if you attempted to run. At this point you had the survivor mentality beaten out of you. 

Starting up the helicopter, David tied your lead to the bar separating the two of your seats. Your eyes were glued to the world outside, watching the rain hit the windows and windshields in awe. The world seemed darker since you saw it last, obviously because it was night time, but it felt grungier. Less like the neon wonderland you left and more like cigarette smoke and leather. 

As the helicopter flew above the city, the fires and crowds of people below were finally visible to you. The shock tore through your body at the sight. 

“The people… what’s happening to them?” You asked, your eyes following clusters of people attacking others. It looked like ants fighting from how high up you were, but you could still make out their shapes and sizes. 

“Birken’s atrocity. This is why I worked on more sophisticated projects like you, My Flower,” David replied, running a hand through your hair. An unfamiliar sound filled your ears, getting louder and louder by the second. 

David’s head whipped to the side. “Holy shit!” He yelled and jerked the steering sticks of the helicopter towards you. Your eyes widened as you saw a glimpse of something coming at the two of you, then the world went white again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

You woke up to a searing pain in your right arm. Eyes shooting open, all you saw around you were silent flames, engulfing the helicopter and licking up your right arm. You tried to lunged through the flames and get out of the helicopter, but a force pulled you back, the fucking collar and lead. Looking around the helicopter, you found a stray shard of glass and picked it up. Your hand instantly filled with a sanguine red, the glass cutting your hand from just holding it. Quickly and wasting no time, you sawed through the lead, gritting your teeth at the pain. 

David would surely forgive you for breaking your lead, it was life or death. Then again, he was a psychotic doctor that experimented on and tortured you for years. 

Once the lead went slack, breaking apart, you jumped through the flames, rolling on the floor of wherever you were to extinguish the flames on you. Catching your breath and feeling your heartbeat die down, you took a few seconds, waiting for David or a U.S.S. agent to pick you back up. 

When no one jolted you up to your feet, your eyes opened to find a dusty wooden floor beneath you. Pushing off of your arms, you looked around you and saw a hallway of some sort, a rather plain one, but not the white ones you were used to seeing by now. 

You stood up and looked toward the helicopter, seeing three bodies in there, engulfed in the flames. David and the two U.S.S. agents. 

You were…. Free. 

Free… 

David was dead. 

Your mind kept going over these words in your mind before you decided it would be better to move than stay still. While David had beaten the survivor out of you, you weren’t an idiot. 

The helicopter was cutting the hallway in half, giving you only one choice to go: behind you. You turned around and looked down the daunting hallway, feeling like it would’ve been better if you perished in the crash with everyone else. Nonetheless, you pushed forward into the darkness, your eyes adjusting to the darkness and your ears adjusting to the quiet. 

Walking down the hallway, you found the first door, a wooden door directly in front of you. On the wall, there was a sign that stuck out from it saying “Waiting Room”. As you walked closer, you found yourself having to limp, your ankle feeling less than ideal for walking a great distance. Your hand pressed up to the door, feeling the indents on the real wood. Every texture you had dealt with since you were taken was either slick, cold, slimy, or all of the above. 

It felt nice to feel something homemade, something that felt real. You cautiously pushed the door open and a sudden warmth filled the hallway. The room had multiple lights on, the type that you weren’t used to anymore. Instead of the fluorescent lights that made you want to gouge your eyeballs out, they were small lamps with a warm, orange or yellow glow to them. 

Closing the door behind you, you tried to find anything that could tell you where you were. You had no clue the size of the building you crashed into or where exactly you were. 

Turning to your direct left, you found a bulletin board on the wall with multiple posters. All of them said Raccoon City as the location of what they were advertising, so it was safe to say you were still in the city. 

Looking around more, you were startled as you heard the door behind you open. It was quiet, but you still picked up on it, your ears flicking slightly at the sound. 

“Are you alive?” A rather young voice asked you. Your hands went up slightly in surrender and you turned around. 

When you looked at who was talking, your eyes lit up. The question he asked puzzled you, but seeing someone that looked around your age was a relief in its own right. 

His face was unlike any other face you had seen. Most faces from your childhood blurred together, the only faces you really remember being your own, David’s, and the other scientists that occasionally worked on you for David. This young man’s features were soft, his eyes blue and kind, with an emotion at the forefront. You had seen that emotion in your own eyes before. 

He was scared and trying to hide it. 

“You’re alive,” He responded. You knit your eyebrows in confusion and noticed the gun he was pointing at you. Confused, you nodded and watched him sigh in relief, then lower the gun. “You, me, and Marvin are the only ones here that aren’t infected,” He added, reholstering his gun. 

“Infected?” Your voice asked. 

The young man looked at you, his eyebrows knit together, confusion matching your own. His eyes looked up and down your outfit, the white hospital gown and scrub pants that you had worn for the last ten years catching his eye. 

“Yeah…. Where did you come from?” He asked and took a step towards you. 

Instinctively, you took a step back, his eyes immediately softening. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you okay? I’m a police officer, it’s my job to help people.” He said softly. 

You remembered your parents telling you to find a police officer if you ever needed help when you would go to the mall alone. The day you were taken, you tried to tell one that a man in a suit was following you.

You were laughed at. 

Sensing your apprehension, he took off one of his fingerless gloves and held his bare hand out to you. “My name’s Leon, Leon Kennedy. If you want to survive, I might be your best bet,” He said. 

You looked at the hand and hesitantly reached your own out to his. But your name, what name could you tell him? Subject 12 wasn’t your name, it was used to get rid of your humanity, taking away your ability to even have a name. 

A name, you used to have a name, but what was it? Digging deep into your memories, you tried to remember it; tried to remember a friend saying it in joy, tried to remember a parent saying it in love, a teacher in anger. 

Nothing. 

Leon looked at you expectantly, trying to read your expression. Your eyes met his as your hand met his in a shake. All you could remember for a name was the sound of rock playing through your dad’s radio, him praising a female singer for her melodies and guitar playing skills. 

“Joan, my name is Joan,” You said, claiming the name as your own. 

“Nice to meet you Joan, got a gun?” Leon asked. He looked down at your hands and you guessed that you had held on for way too long judging by the look on his face. You let go and awkwardly smiled at him. 

“A gun? No,” You replied, your head tilting to the side slightly. “Why would I need a gun?” You asked. 

“Why would you need a gun?” Leon echoed your question, looking at you incredulously. His eyes then went down to the burn mark on your right arm and the cut through the palm of your same hand.  “Where did you come from, you haven’t been here?” He asked. 

You shook your head slightly, proving his theory correct. “I was in a helicopter, then everything went white and I woke up surrounded by flames in this building,”

His eyes widened. “You were in that helicopter? The one that crashed into the building?” He asked, his eyes almost bugging out of his head. You nodded in response and he dug through his hip pouches, producing a small box with a red cross on it. 

“Here, let me patch you up, take a seat,” He said and gestured to one of the benches. You limped over, his eyes catching which ankle you weren’t letting touch the floor and taking a mental note of it. 

Sitting down on the bench, you looked at the palm of your hand seeing just how deep the glass had cut you. Leon kneeled down in front of you and looked up into your eyes, then back down at the collar you had on. 

“I don’t mean to pry…” He trailed off. You stared at him, expecting him to ask a question, but he just shrugged and shook his head, saying something to himself that a normal person wouldn’t be able to hear, but you could. “Isn’t the weirdest fucking thing I’ve seen today,” He said to himself. 

You watched him take bandages and a small spray can out of the case. “Can I have your hand?” He asked. You gave up your hand, palm side up. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, his eyes darting to your face for any sign of discomfort, but finding none. 

“This will hurt a bit,” He said and shook the small can. As the spray hit your cut, a slight hiss left your mouth. “Sorry,” He said, his eyebrows knit in focus and sympathy. Leon was quick to wrap the hand in bandages and then wrap the burn loosely.   

His hand dropped your wrist and he gestured to your ankle. “Can I help that too?” He asked. You nodded and he took your ankle, resting it on his knee. Almost as quick as when he wrapped your hand, your ankle was wrapped and all set to go. 

“It looks sprained. If we were in a better situation, I’d tell you to stay off of it, but we’re not,” He said and looked up at you.

“Thank you,” You said and lightly smiled at him. Looking down at him, you got a feeling that you haven’t had in awhile. 

You felt like he could be trusted; instead of the churning sea that your stomach usually was, it was calm. A slight warmth spreading through your chest at his smile.

“We should head out, I have this puzzle that I need to solve for us to get out of here,” He said, fishing a small booklet out of his pouches and putting the box back in. 

Looking at him, you could tell that he’d been here for at least longer than you had. He might be useful to stick around; especially if he had weapons and you didn’t. 

“Sounds good,” You said and stood up, getting used to the new weight on your ankle. 

“Before we go…. I gotta ask,” He said, leading into a question that you didn’t really want to answer right now. 

“No you don’t,” You replied and steadied yourself, looking up to meet his gaze. 

“Okay, I guess I don’t,” He said, his head moving to the door he came out of. “Alright, let’s get moving,” He added. 

You followed him through the door, into the unknown. Maybe on the other side of the door, there would be a fully fledged freedom; the world that you were kept from. 

To you, you were free of the white walls, white floors, damnation you were sentenced to. Now, you were headed into hell on Earth that you were completely unaware of. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic and others on my AO3

[buckyssoldat]

Chapter 65: Thanos

Warnings: graphic violence, strong language, death themes, emotional distress, trauma themes

A/N: This is part of my series, Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier. If you wanna be tagged in this, just send me an ask or a message. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

Let me feel the sting

The pain

The burn

Under my skin

After the small memorial for Natasha, the whole team gathered inside the compound, everyone with their suits ready in case something went wrong. Alice was wearing her black and blue suit, with all her weapons in her pockets. The mood was heavy, but there was work to do. They had the gauntlet now, the one Tony and Rocket crafted to hold the Infinity Stones. The reality of their mission was beginning to set in. They had a chance to undo the Snap. But there was still one last question to answer: who would wield the gauntlet?

As the group crowded around the table, the newly finished gauntlet lay before them, its shimmering surface a reminder of both the power and the danger they were about to face. Rocket, always the one for dry humour, broke the silence.

“All right,” he said, his arms crossed. “The glove’s ready. Question is, who’s gonna snap their freaking fingers?”

Thor stepped forward without hesitation, his eyes bright with determination. “I’ll do it.”

Tony, ever the sceptic, shot him a disbelieving look. “Excuse me?”

Thor waved it off, his voice filled with conviction. “It’s okay.”

Before anyone could respond, the whole team began protesting in unison.

“Thor, just wait,” Steve said, his hand going up to halt Thor. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet,” he added, his tone more measured, as if trying to reason with the god.

“I’m sorry,” Thor gave a sarcastic smile. “What, we’re just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?”

Scott added, “We should at least discuss it.”

Thor, clearly eager to get thing moving, responded with frustration, “No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I’m the strongest Avenger-”

“Debatable,” Alice interrupted. “But keep going.”

“This responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty,” Thor insisted, his voice growing more resolute.

Tony crossed his arms, shaking his head. “It’s not about that-”

Thor cut him off, his voice rising. “It’s not that- Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do something good. Something right.” His voice cracked at the end, and it was clear to everyone that Thor was carrying a heavy burden.

Tony sighed, trying to bring some logic into the situation. “Look- it’s not just the fact that that glove is channelling enough energy to light up a continent, I’m yelling you, you’re in no condition.”

Thor’s eyes flared with anger as he grabbed Tony’s arm. “What do you-What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?”

“Cheez Whiz?” Rhodey quipped, earning a few chuckles, but the moment quickly turned serious again.

“Lightning,” Thor answered, his voice thick with emotion.

Tony shook his head. “Yeah.”

Bruce, who had been silent until then, stepped forward, shaking his head. “Lightning won’t help you, pal. It’s gotta be me.”

Thor let out a frustrated breath, let go of Tony’s arm and stepped back. Bruce looked at the gauntlet, his expression tense. “You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive.

Steve, ever cautious, asked, “How do we know you will?”

Bruce took a long, deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma.” He looked at the gauntlet again, a quiet resolve in his voice. “It’s like… I was made for this.”

Alice stood a little away from the group, arms crossed and her mind whirring. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She had been quiet until now, but her voice broke through the tension in the room, firm but laced with emotion.

“I should be the one to do it,” Alice said, stepping forward, her gaze locked on the gauntlet. “The serum coursing through my body will help. I won’t die. I can handle it.” Her voice was steady, though there was a quiet desperation behind her words. She wasn’t about to let anyone else bear this burden.

Bruce turned to her, shaking his head. “Alice, it’s too dangerous. You don’t know what this could do to you. You’ve seen the kind of power those stones hold.”

“I can do it,” Alice insisted, her voice unwavering. “I’m stronger than I look, Bruce. The serum-”

Tony interrupted, his tone hard but concerned. “It’s not just the serum, Alice. You’re not invincible. We all know what happens when someone tries to use this kind of power.”

Alice clenched her fists at her sides, her jaw tightening. “I’ve been through worse. I’ve survived worse.” She met Steve’s gaze, hoping he would back her up, but Steve, ever the protector, just shook his head gently.

“I can’t let you risk it,” Steve said softly, his hand on her arm. “Like Bruce said, the gamma gives him the best shot at this.”

Alice looked down at the floor, a quiet pain flashing across her face. She wasn’t giving up, but she understood. Bruce, seeing the conflict in her eyes, stepped in again.

“We don’t know it anyone can survive this,” he said softly. “But I have the best shot. If I don’t do it, we’re doomed. I have to be the one.” His voice was filled with determination, but there was a sadness there, too.

Alice took a deep breath and nodded, stepping back. “Fine. But I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way.”

Bruce gave her a grateful nod, then turned to the gauntlet, steeling himself for what was to come. Tony clapped him on the shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “Good to go, yeah?”

“Let’s do it,” Bruce said, his voice full of finality.

“You remember – everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago and just bringing them back to now, today,” Tony warned. “Don’t change anything from the last five years.”

“Got it,” Bruce shook his head.

“F.RI.D.A.Y., do me a favour and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?” Tony asked his AI.

“Yes, boss,” the voice of the AI echoed around them.

“Everybody comes home,” Bruce said looking around the team. They all nodded in unison, the weight of the moment pressing down on them. He then took a deep breath and positioned his hand into the gauntlet, locking it into place. There was not turning back now.

Alice stood quietly, watching Bruce, her thoughts racing. Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides, the weight of everything hanging over her like a dark cloud. The thought of the Snap and all that had been lost – the people they had all loved and fought for – was overwhelming. But through it all, one thought kept coming to her mind, and it was the only thing that made her chest tighten with both hope and fear.

Bucky.

She couldn’t help but think about what it would mean to finally see him again. The thought of him – his smile, his eyes, the way he had always been there for her, even when she didn’t know she needed him – pushed through the storm of emotions swirling inside her. The vision of him coming back, alive, safe, made her heart ache with longing.

She remembered all the times they had fought side by side, the quiet moments when they had shared their fears and dreams, the time where they finally kissed and said ‘I love you’ to each other. She had never wanted anything more than to see him again, to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him that she loved him. And yet, as Bruce took a steadying breath and prepared to snap his fingers, a small know of fear formed in her stomach.

What if this doesn’t work? What if it doesn’t bring everyone back? What if it doesn’t bring him back?

She swallowed hard, trying to shove those thoughts aside, but they lingered, gnawing at her resolve. She glanced at Steve, then Tony, their faces a mirror of her own quiet anxiety. They were all hoping, praying that this moment, this decision, would be enough to undo the horror of the past five years.

The weight of the gauntlet in Bruce’s hands seemed to make the room feel even heavier, and Alice’s pulse quickened as she looked back to the man who was about to wield that kind of power. Bruce’s face was tense with the responsibility of what he was about to do, but she knew he was doing it for them. For all of them.

As the gauntlet began to power up, glowing with the energy of the stones, Alice felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins. This was it. This was the moment that could bring him back.

Bruce staggered back as the gauntlet pulsed with violent energy, his entire body wracked with pain. He gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself, but the force of it was almost too much to bear. The nanobots shifted, locking the gauntlet around his hand, but Bruce could barely breathe, the immense pressure threatening to tear him apart.

Thor’s voice cut through the chaos. “Take it off! Take it off!”

Steve’s voice followed, steady but filled with concern, “No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?”

Tony, frantic now, echoed his worry. “Talk to me, Banner.”

“Bruce,” Alice pleaded.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Bruce panted through gritted teeth, his face contorted in pain. He took a shaky breath, trying to fight through the overwhelming power that surged through him.

Alice’s eyes never left him, her heart racing as she watched him struggle. She took a half step forward, instinctively wanting to help, but there was nothing she could do. The gauntlet was too powerful, the risks too great. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from whispering, “Bruce, please…”

The pain was too much for Bruce, and a scream of agony tore from his throat as he fought to maintain control. He managed to push through the intense wave of energy long enough to snap his fingers. A brilliant flash of light erupted from the gauntlet, and Alice felt the air around them crackle, a ripple of energy spreading throughout the room.

Bruce collapsed, the gauntlet sliding off his hand as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Clint was the first to react, kicking the gauntlet away from him as thought it were a dangerous object.

“Bruce!” Alice shouted, her legs already moving toward him, but Tony held her back, his face tight with worry.

Steve was right behind her, his hand on Alice’s shoulder, as if to steady her. “Bruce,” he called out, trying to rouse the man who had just made the ultimate sacrifice.

“Don’t move him,” Tony said firmly, kneeling next to Bruce.

Bruce’s hand reached for Steve’s arm, and for a moment, Alice thought he was going to pass out completely. His grip was weak, but he managed to rasp out, “Did it work?”

Thor exhaled, a brief, shaky laugh escaping him. “Worth a shot. It’s over. It’s okay.”

Alice’s pulse still raced, her nerves on edge as she looked over at Scott. The quiet of the room seemed to stretch, but then Scott’s voice broke the silence.

“Guys,” he said, walking toward the windows and peering out into the distance, “I think it worked.”

Alice felt a flicker of hope as she glanced toward Scott. Clint’s phone rang and his eyes locked onto the screen, the happiness in his voice was unmistakable. “Honey. Honey.”

Before they could process it, a missile flew from the sky, striking the compound. In an instant, more missiles followed, pummelling the base with ruthless precision.

Alice gasped, her heart sinking as the building shook beneath them. Everything happened so fast, but the destruction was all to clear. It was as if the universe itself refused to let them have even a moment of peace.

They were so close, so close to undoing everything that had been lost, and yet, it seemed like the universe was determined to fight back every step of the way.

Alice slowly regained consciousness, her head throbbing as she pushed herself off the ground. The explosion had sent her sprawling, and her vision was blurry as she tried to clear her mind, but it was hard to shake the feeling of disorientation. Her body aches, there was blood dripping for her head, but her instinct kicked in – she had to find the others.

A familiar voice reached her ears. “Come on, Alice. Wake up, please.”

“Steve?” Alice managed, her voice weak but steadying. She pushed herself up, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Steve and Tony, standing unsteadily, but alive. “Are you okay?”

Steve blinked at her, as if his mind had been clouded for a moment. “Yeah, we’re fine. You?”

Alice sighed, relief flooding her as she stood beside them, steadying herself against the pain in her side. “I thought… I thought we were done for.”

Tony gave her a side glance, eyes softening for a moment. “Not yet, kid. We’re still breathing.”

They moved toward Thor, who stood a little way off, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. Thanos, the 2014 version, was visible just beyond the wreckage. Alice’s stomach tightened at the sight of him. They had come so close, but now – now there was only one thing left do to.

Tony approached Thor first. “What’s he been doing?” he asked, his tone slightly sarcastic.

Thor barely spared a glance at him. “Absolutely nothing,” he said, his voice low but calm.

Steve, still catching his bearings, asked, “Where are the stones?”

Tony’s face hardened as he scanned the area. “Somewhere under all this. All I know is he doesn’t have them.��

“Well, let’s keep it that way then,” Alice responded firmly, her jaw set with resolve. The time for hesitation was over. It was time to end this. She had killed Thanos once, she could do it again.

Thor glanced at them, then at the distant figure of Thanos. “You know it’s a trap, right?”

Tony nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. And I don’t much care.”

“Good. Just as long as we’re all in agreement,” Thor said, his voice steady and sure now. Thunder cracked through the air as he raised his hands. Stormbreaker and Mjölnir flew to him, his casual clothes shifting into armour as he transformed in front of them. His long hair braided itself as he straightened, and his eyes narrowed, focus razor-sharp. “Let’s kill him properly this time.”

Alice could feel the weight of the moment, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. The battle ahead would be fierce, but it wasn’t just for them anymore. It was for everyone who had been lost, for Natasha, for Bucky, for all of them. This was the moment they’d been fighting for.

Steve’s eyes met hers as they prepared to move. Without saying a word, he stepped toward her, his gaze unwavering, as if to tell her without speaking that they were in this together until the very end.

Alice took a steadying breath, gripping the handle of her weapons tightly. “Let’s do this,” she said, her voice resolute, no hesitation in her heart. She had killed Thanos once, she could do it again.

And with that, the four of them walked toward Thanos, ready to end it all.

Thanos loomed over the battlefield, his eyes cold and unyielding as he addressed them. His voice, deep and unrelenting, echoed across the ruined landscape. “You could not live with your own failure. And where did that bring you? Back to me.”

Alice’s heart thudded in her chest, her hands tightening around her blades as the weight of those words sank in. She glanced at Steve, Tony, and Thor, who wore matching expressions of grim determination. Thanos continued, a dark satisfaction in his voice. “I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me that’s impossible. And as long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”

Tony stepped forward, his armour gleaming despite the dust and destruction. He tilted his head slightly, his voice hard but still carrying that unyielding Stark defiance. “Yep. We’re all kinds of stubborn.”

Thanos’s expression twisted into a look of satisfaction. “I’m thankful,” he said, rising to his full height. “Because now, I know what I must do.” He stood and donned his helmet, the metallic clink echoing ominously. “I will shred this universe down to his last atom,” he declared. “And then – with the stone you’ve collected for me – create a new one. Teeming with life but knowing not what it has lost but only what it has been given. A grateful universe.”

Thor’s eyes lit up, crackling with blue lightning, his expression wild with fury and grief. “Born out of blood,” Steve countered, his voice hard, every syllable filled with righteous anger.

Thanos remained impassive. “They’ll never know it,” he said calmly, his voice almost gentle, but dripping with finality. “Because you won’t be alive to tell them.”

Alice’s pulse pounded in her ears. This was it – the fight that would decide everything. She took a step forward, her voice cutting through the tension. “We’re not giving up now,” she said firmly, her resolve burning as brightly as the sparks dancing from Thor’s lightning-charged weapons. She didn’t hesitate, leaping into the chaos beside them, blades drawn, every step fuelled by the memories of those she loved and a fierce desire to make things right.

The battle began, a clash of titanic forces that shook the earth and lit the sky, each Avenger fighting with everything they had to stop the Mad Titan once and for all.

Thor roared, the storm swirling around him as he banged Stormbreaker and Mjölnir together, sending waves of lightning crackling through the air. The electricity surged towards Tony, who instinctively activated his suit’s energy absorption systems. His nanotech armour hummed and glowed as it drew the tremendous power, channels of light streaking across his chest and down his arms. Tony braced himself and unleashed the energy with a shout, firing beams of lightning-infused power from his hands, each pulse blindingly bright.

Thanos, unfazed, spun his double-edged blade with impossible speed, creating a shield that deflected the energy with a hight-pitched whine. The redirected blast splintered rock and melted metal, sending shockwaves across the battlefield. Tony strained against the force, his suit’s systems overheating, until Thor took advantage of the momentary diversion. With a mighty swing, he hurled Mjölnir towards Thanos. The enchanted hammer streaked forward like a comet, aimed to knock the Mad Titan off balance.

But Thanos anticipated the move. With inhuman strength and precision, he grabbed Tony by the arm and swung him into Mjölnir’s path. The hammer collided with Tony’s armoured chest, sending him flying. Tony’s HUD flickered as alarms blared in his ears.

Tony crashed into the ground, his suit sparking and smoking. He struggled to move, his limbs heavy, as his systems worked desperately to reboot. Groaning, he tried to pull himself up, but his vision swam.

“Tony!” Alice shouted, fear and determination mingling in her voice. She fought the urge to run to him, knowing they couldn’t let up for even a second against Thanos. Her eyes narrowed, and she readied herself for the next attack. Alice and Steve try to attack the titan but are immediately thrown away in the air.

Her heart pounded as she watched Thanos overpower Thor, her breath catching when she saw Stormbreaker nearly driven into the god’s chest. But then Mjölnir began to move. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and a swell of hope blossomed in her chest when she realized who was summoning the legendary hammer.

When Steve grasped Mjölnir and lightning coursed through him, Alice couldn’t help but scream, a mixture of pride and fierce joy erupting from her lungs. “That’s my Cap!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos. Adrenaline surged through her, giving her a renewed burst of strength.

Thanos barely had time to register Steve’s newfound power before Alice sprang forward, her double-edged sword glinting. She attacked with relentless ferocity, slashing and spinning with the precision of a soldier who had nothing left to lose.

Thanos deflected her strikes with his blade, but she pushed harder, her movements fuelled by the faces of everyone they had lost. She parried one of his blows and, with a primal roar, drove her fist into his chest. The impact was so forceful that Thanos was launched backward, skidding across the ground and creating a deep crater where he landed. The earth fractured beneath him, rocks and dust shooting into the air.

Breathing heavily, Alice readjusted her stance, determination blazing in her eyes. “I’m not done with you yet, you fucking oversized grape,” she spat, her voice a mix of anger and exhaustion.

Thanos climbed out of the hole, his gaze darkening with rage. But Alice stood her ground, stepping closer to Steve, who had finally managed to get to his feet, battered but still unyielding. They exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgement of their bond and their shared resolve. No matter the odds, they would stand together, and they would fight until their last breath.

Thanos stood tall, his massive frame imposing as he surveyed the destruction before him. His voice boomed, deep and resolute, echoing through the broken landscape.

“In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter – it was never personal,” Thanos declared, his cold, merciless eyes settling on the two exhausted Avengers. “But I’ll tell you now – what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet – I’m gonna enjoy it. Very, very much.”

Alice felt a shiver run down her spine, but she refused to show fear. Instead, she tightened her grip on her double-edged sword, its blade slick with the remnants of their desperate battle. Steve, his broken shield strapped to his forearm, stood tall despite the pain radiating through his battered body. He refused to back down, just as he always had.

They both took in the sight of Thanos’s vast army, a seemingly endless horde of Chitauri, Outriders, Sakaarans, and massive war creatures ready to bring the universe’s darkest will crashing down on Earth. They sky was filled with ominous ships, and the ground trembled beneath the weight of impending doom.

Steve staggered but managed to keep his balance, every fibre of his being willing him to stay standing. He looked over at Alie, a familiar warmth in his gaze despite the overwhelming odds. She met his eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Their world was about to end, but they had each other.

Without a word, Alice reached out, her fingers seeking his. Steve took her hand, his grip firm and unwavering, as if in that small touch, they could face the darkness together. The connection was their last comfort, a silent promise to stand united, even if this was their final moment.

“Ready to die fighting, Rogers?” Alice asked, her voice cracking with emotion but laced with unyielding defiance.

Steve’s lips twitched into a small, determined smile. “Together, Onyx. Always together.”

Alice stood frozen for a split second, her breath catching in her throat. She had prepared herself to die fighting alongside Steve, her heart resolute despite the inevitable end. But then, Sam’s familiar voice crackled through their comms, and hope, a tiny and precious thing, sparked in her chest.

“Hey, Cap, Onyx, you read me?” Sam’s voice called, laced with disbelief and determination.

Steve turned his head, the battle-scarred shield strapped to his arm gleaming faintly in the ashen light. Alice’s heart pounded, and she almost didn’t dare to believe it was real. But then –

“Cap, Onyx, it’s Sam. Can you hear me?” Came again, more clear, more confident. “On your left.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he turned, and Alice followed his gaze. A golden circle of light, shimmering and bright, formed behind them. A portal. Her fingers tightened around her double-edged sword, and her eyes widened as three figures stepped through: Okoye, Shuri, and Black Panther.

Alice exhaled shakily, disbelief melting into awe. More portals opened around them, one after another, and the impossible unfolded before her eyes. They had returned. Sam Wilson soared into view, his wings catching the light as he zoomed overhead. Doctor Strange, accompanied by Drax, Mantis, Star-Lord, and Spider-Man, emerged from another opening, and dozens more heroes materialized, filling the battlefield with life, hope, and the will to fight. Scott emerged from the rubble with Bruce, War Machine, and Rocket.

But it was only when she saw him that her heart shattered and mended in one instant. Bucky stepped through one of the portals, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his hair catching the light as he took in the chaos of the battlefield. His gaze swept across the heroes, and then, as if sensing her, his eyes met Alice’s.

A tear slipped down her cheek, unbidden and unstoppable, and her lips curved into a smile so full of joy it made her chest ache. Bucky was alive. He was here. Everything she had fought for, every moment of pain and longing, led to this. She wanted nothing more than run to him, to throw her arms around him and never let go. But the world still needed saving, and there were more important things to do first – kill Thanos.

“Hey, Alice,” she heard his familiar voice through her earpiece, warm and steady.

Her heart soared, and a smile broke across her face, even with tears still shimmering in her eyes. She swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion but filled with strength. “Hey, Buck,” she replied with a big smile.

For a moment, the chaos around her seemed to still. The world felt right again, and she could feel the weight of everything she had lost finally lifting. She wanted to tell him everything – how much she had missed him, how hard she had fought for this moment – but there wasn’t time.

Alice took a steadying breath, her fingers still trembling around the hilt of her weapon. Bucky, as if understanding, gave her a small, confident nod, his own expression a mixture of relief and determination. The silent promise passed between them: soon.

Steve’s voice rang out, cutting through the chaos, as he raised Mjölnir. “AVENGERS!” His voice was powerful, echoing with all the hope and strength they had left. He paused, taking in the massive army of heroes ready to fight by their side. The Avengers, Guardians, Wakandans, Asgardians, and Ravagers took up their battle position. “Assemble.”

Alice’s heart roared with the call, the word reverberating through her very soul. She lifted her sword, the tears in her eyes now ones of fierce resolve. With a cry, she charged forward, ready to fight, ready to save the world – and ready to live.

Alice’s heart pounded as she charged through Thanos’s army, her double-edged sword a blur of lethal precision. She weaved through Outriders, ducking under claws and spinning to slice through two at once. Her blade cut through flesh and bone with surgical accuracy, and her movements were a symphony of practiced grace and deadly power. An approaching Chitauri snarled, raising its weapon to strike, but Alice pivoted on her heel, swinging her sword upward in a perfect arc that left the alien warrior crumpled at her feet.

She moved swiftly, taking down another group of Chitauri with a series of expertly timed slashed, her every motion driven by purpose. An Outrider lunged at her from behind, but she twisted in time to bury her blade deep in its chest. Black blood splattered across her suit, but she barely registered it, her mind focused only on pushing forward. She was relentless, a force of nature cutting her way through Thanos’s horde, each strike fuelled by the love and hope she carried in her heart.

Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed across the battlefield. Alice looked up just in time to see a massive Leviathan flying overhead, its gargantuan form casting a shadow across the chaos. It was headed straight for Clint, who was running desperately, clutching to the Gauntlet.

“No way,” Alice muttered. Summoning every ounce of her strength, she launched herself into the air, ready to intercept the beast. Before she could reach it, however, a strong arm looped around her waist, and she found herself hoisted into the sky.

Valkyrie grinned down at her from the back of her winged horse. “Need a lift?”

Alice barely had time to nod before Valkyrie steered her mound upward, carrying them high above the Leviathan. With a nod of understanding, Valkyrie released Alice, dropping her right near the creature’s thick, armoured back.

Alice landed hard but kept her balance, her sword at the ready. With a battle cry, she drove the blade down into the Leviathan’s armour, using all her strength to cut through its thick skin. Sparks and blue blood erupted around her as she tore through layer after layer, carving a deadly path along the creature’s back. The Leviathan thrashed in pain, but Alice held on, relentless as she drove her sword deeper, ripping apart its armour and severing the skin beneath.

The Leviathan let out a final, shuddering roar before collapsing to the ground, its massive body shaking the earth. Alice jumped off just in time, landing in a crouch before rising, breathing heavily but victorious.

Turning around, she was met with a sight that made her heart stop. There, standing a few feet away with his rifle slung over his shoulder and a smile breaking across his face, was Bucky. His blue eyes shone with pride and something deeper, something that made Alice’s pulse race.

Before he could speak, Alice was already running to him. She closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, dropping her sword and grabbing him by his vest. Without hesitation, she pulled him close, crashing her lips against his in a fierce, desperate kiss.

Bucky’s hands found her waist as he kissed her back just as passionately, the world around them momentarily forgotten. All the pain, the loss, and the yearning melted away in that moment, replaced by the undeniable joy of being together once more. The battlefield roared around them, but for a few precious seconds, there was only the two of them, locked in an embrace that promised hope, love, and the strength to keep fighting.

Bucky pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against Alice’s, both breathing hard. His flesh hand gently cupped her cheek, and for a moment, the chaos seemed a million miles away. Alice smiled through the tears that threatened to fall, her heart swelling with joy at having him back in her arms.

But the moment was cut short as Tony’s voice crackled through the comms, filled with his signature brand of teasing.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Tony drawled. “Hate to interrupt your dramatic reunion, but we’ve still got a universe to save. So maybe less French kissing, more slicing and dicing?”

Alice pulled away from Bucky, her cheeks flushing as she rolled her eyes. Bucky chuckled, a deep, genuine laugh that Alice had missed more than anything. He squeezed her waist and raised an eyebrow.

“Looks like we’re getting called out,” Bucky said, his voice laced with humour.

Alice gave him a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head.” She reached down, retrieving her weapon from the ground, and glanced back at him with a mischievous grin. “Ready to kick some more alien ass?”

Bucky’s smile widened, his grip on his rifle tightening. “Right behind you.”

With one last shared glance, they turned back to the fight, their hearts lighter but their resolve stronger than ever.

Alice’s heart pounded in her chest as she locked eyes with Thanos. The battlefield around her was chaos, but she only saw him – the one who had taken everything. The one who had wiped out half of existence, including those she held closest. She couldn’t let him win. Not again. She couldn’t let be in vain the ones she lost and didn’t get back – Natasha and Loki.

Thanos had already destroyed so much. She couldn’t let him have the Gauntlet – not when it would mean more death, more loss, more pain. She could feel her pulse quickening as she darted through the wreckage, charging directly at him. She knew she would need everything she had to take him down.

“You took everyone that mattered to me,” Alice shouted, her voice raw with anger. “Now, I’m gonna take your fucking head off, just like I did last time.”

Thanos turned his head slowly toward her, his cold expression unreadable, but his voice was as mocking as ever. “You think you can defeat me? You’ll never succeed. All you’re doing is delaying the inevitable.”

Without waiting for him to make a move, Alice hurled herself toward the Mad Titan, her double-edged sword gleaming as she swung it with a deadly precision. Thanos raised his forearm to block the strike, but Alice was fast – she twisted midair, bringing the blade down again toward his exposed side.

Thanos stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he raised his weapon to defend. The blade struck the thick metal of his armour with a metallic clang, but Alice wasn’t deterred. She spun, her sword dancing through the air, forcing Thanos to retreat. She was a blur of motion, each strike carefully calculated, each movement honed through years of training.

Thanos grunted as he blocked another attack, his weapon pushing her sword aside with ease. “You have no idea what you’re facing, little girl,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But you will.”

Alice leaped again, slashing downward with all her strength. Thanos caught the blade in his hand and squeezed it, the metal creaking under his grasp. His grip was monstrous, and Alice’s arms trembled with the effort to hold her ground. With a mocking grin, Thanos twisted the blade out of her hand and sent it flying across the field.

Alice’s fists clenched. She was unarmed now, but she wasn’t done. She threw herself at him, her entire body becoming a weapon. She threw punches with all her might, landing blow after blow. The force of her punches made the ground beneath them crack, a reminder of just how much power she was packing.

“You’re strong, I’ll admit, but not strong enough,” Thanos taunted, grabbing her by the throat once again, lifting her off the ground with ease.

For a moment, the world seemed to spin as Alice struggled against his grip. She reached up, grasping his hand, her nails digging into his skin as she fought for air. As breathing became harder, she had to think quickly – her sword was gone, lost somewhere in the chaos, but she wasn’t finished yet. She wouldn’t be. Not after everything.

And that was when she remembered – on her left pocket, there was the vibranium knife Tony had given her. She grinned despite the burning pain in her chest, her left hand wrapping around the handle.

With the knife in hand, she managed to pull herself up using Thanos’s arm, propelling her legs upward as she grabbed hold of his shoulders, her powerful hands digging into the thick armour of his neck. Thanos roared in surprise, but it was too late. With a quick twist, Alice pressed the blade to his throat, aiming for the kill.

Her muscles strained as she pushed against the knife, her super strength working against the thick hide of his skin. The blade scraped against his neck, but she wasn’t going to stop. Her grip tightened, every fibre of her being focused on one thing – ending him, right here, right now. She could feel the force of her strength doing its work, the blade cutting deeper, making Thanos bleed.

“You’re not… getting away…” Alice growled, her voice thick with fury.

She pushed harder, her strength forcing the blade deeper. She was so close. She could almost feel the satisfaction of ending it all – the battle, the pain, the loss. She could almost hear Bucky’s voice in her mind, cheering her on.

But then, from the corner of her vision, she saw him – Ebony Maw.

His telekinetic power surged, and with a flick of his fingers, Alice was ripped off of Thanos’s shoulders. The force of the pull was so strong that it sent her crashing to the ground, the knife slipping from her grip. Her body slammed against the ground with sickening force, and for a moment, everything went black.

tags: ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​@capswife

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masterlist

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

scoops ahoy!

summary: a commercial is being shot for the new starcourt mall and scoops ahoy is involved.

WC: 2K

warnings: nothing!

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

im a little annoyed that the specific gif im looking for is gone!!!!

series masterlist

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April 17, 1985

“Okay, so (Y/n), you’ll stand behind the register and say ‘Ahoy!’ Then Robin will walk in with an ice cream cone, hold it out, and also say ‘Ahoy!’ Got it?”

You vaguely nodded at the director after she gave the instructions.

She walked away to stand behind the camera and watch everything through a monitor. There were about ten people scattered in the small ice cream shop, with someone holding a boom mic standing close enough so he could pick up your voices.

You glanced over to Robin, her strawberry ice cream cone with sprinkles and a cherry was held with a napkin in her hands. You both exchanged nervous smiles, not excited to be in front of a camera, especially if it was an ad for Starcourt. It means everyone is gonna know that both of you work at the sailor-themed shop, along with the mandatory uniforms.

You tried to get Eddie a job, but the second you mentioned the outfits he automatically declined and when he actually saw you in yours, he fell to his knees and laughed for three minutes straight.

You and Robin were desperate for money and it helped when you had work experience in food service, you helped Robin out and lied saying she also worked at the pizza place with you, Eddie your ‘manager’ was put down if they wanted to call.

The both of you got the job at the same time in March, so after about a month of work, you were feeling pretty confident in your ice cream skills. That is until your manager, Jason, some twenty-something-year-old guy, told you and Robin a day beforehand that they were filming a commercial and that he signed the both of you up for Scoops.

You talked about it over the phone with Steve when you got home from work after dropping Robin off at her house. Uniform still on, back against the wall, wire twisted in your grasp with the phone held to your ear.

“Baby, I can stop by during your shift. Would that cheer you up?”

A pout formed on your lips, “a little.”

Now as you stand behind the counter waiting for the director to call action, you hope Steve arrives when the crew leaves the store.

“Okay, everyone!” The director shouted, “places!” and when her crew moved and settled, you tried to will your heart to slow down, but it wasn’t working.

“Action!”

A fake smile was pointed into the lens of the camera, fists braced at your hips, not knowing what else to do with them. You waited for a signal to speak and when a finger was pointed towards you, you looked directly down the barrel with dead eyes and fake enthusiasm, “Ahoy!” 

Robin came in a second later with the ice cream lightly melting under the bright lights, she thrusted it out, and with her jittery self, “Ahoy!” She got out without a single voice crack.

No one called cut or stop so the both of you just kept up the fake smiles until they hurt your cheeks. And what felt like an hour was probably only a minute before the director called cut. Both of you drop the happy face to resting poses, and one would say you have a resting bitch face.

“Okay, that was great girls! We’re just gonna do a few more takes so we have enough versions.” And they set everything up for a second take.

“Can I eat the ice cream?” Robin asked, a drop of strawberry making its way down the cone.

The director stared for a moment, chin resting in her hands, “sure, actually for this take, (Y/n) will come in with the ice cream. Both of you switch places.”

So the second take was with Robin at the counter and you were walking in with a cone, a different flavor, and toppings. Variety as the director said.

“Cut! Okay, let’s take a break and be back in thirty. One more shot and that’s it for the day.”

The shop was closed during the filming so you and Robin just flipped into an empty booth, her leaning her head on the top of the cushions as you just ate your cone. You wanted the day to be over already.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me pick a flavor?” A deep voice spoke, one your zoned-out brain didn’t catch.

“We’re closed at the moment.” Not even looking at the person.

“Oh, well I was told my girlfriend wanted me here. To cheer her up.”

Wild eyes and ice cream smeared over your lips and chin, you jerked your head to look at Steve, pretty Steve, your pretty Steve.

“Oh, god, if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you heard Robin mumble. You knew she was just playing.

You saw the roll of Steve’s eyes before he entered your side of the booth, arms immediately looping around your waist. He peered at you like you were his life source, the sunlight to his growing flower, the oxygen flowing through his veins. He was the sun to your moon.

“Hi pretty girl, how’s work been,” he questioned as he wiped his fingers over the ice cream stains, fingers popping in his mouth to clean them off.

A bite to your bottom kept the cheeky smile from appearing, knowing Robin would whine if she heard even a hint of flirting.

“Eh, but better know that you’re here.” You leaned closer to him.

He grinned at the statement, always happy to hear he makes your day better. You wanted to pounce on him right there but stopped yourself, for Robin’s sanity. So you settled on a simple peck to his lips, then one on his cheek, two over his freckles then a final one to his nose.

“What time you get off?” Steve chased you for a second kiss.

You granted his wish, “Uh-” you grabbed Steve’s wrist and turned his watch your way, “should be another half-hour. Think they want one more take before we’re done with filming. Then the store reopens, sadly.”

“And sticky little children are gonna come storming in, their piercing screams making me want to stab my ears.” Robin’s raspy voice piped up beside you, your giggles showing your agreement. 

The three of you got sucked into your conversations, you and Robin gossiping about something that happened in your English class earlier that day, Steve chiming in every now and then wanting to be nosey as well. Your ice cream was being shared between you both, Robin groaning and gagging at the display.

Before you know it, the film crew came back from their break. They were setting everything right for the final shot, hopefully, the final image. You and Robin slid out of the vinyl booth, throwing those annoying sailor hats back atop your crowns. Steve stood behind you, arm thrown over your shoulder, and watched as the different men and women moved around the cramped space. The director came over, presumably to give you and Robin your new directions, but she stopped short.

“Uh, who’s this?” She pointed a rolled paper towards Steve.

You pointed a thumb at him, “he’s- he’s my boyfriend, Steve,” your head turned to smile at him.

“Would you like to be in the commercial?” She blurted out.

“Uh- well…” he turned his head at you, wanting some type of confirmation from you, all you did was shrug your shoulders and throw a smile, “uh, sure. Yeah, that’s cool.”

She walked away with a smile and wandered towards your manager. They both headed to the breakroom for a few minutes then reentered the front of the store, a scoops uniform in hand.

“Oh, Stevie,” you were trying to hold the laugh in your throat.

“What- Oh god, no.” 

“Oh, oh this might be the best birthday gift ever!” Robin chuckled beside Steve, a look of horror painted on his face.

“Robin, your birthday was last month.”

She just scuffed, “So what? It was a bad birthday, anyway.”

“I took you bowling and we went out for dinner! I even bought you a new tape!” You reminded her.

The two of you bickered back and forth for a few, too distracted to notice that Steve was pulled away. And when you finally picked up on his absence the director told you he was in the bathroom getting changed into the uniform. So you hurried behind the ice cream bar and pushed the swinging back doors open, heading to stand behind the closed door.

“Steve…” your knuckles rap against the navy blue door, “Stevie, everything okay?”

There was only silence on his end and it was worrying you a bit, “Steve, can you at least unlock the door? I’m- I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it.”

Once again silence, then the click of the lock turning. The door was free and with a quick turn of the knob, you slowly opened the door and peeked your head inside. It was a small bathroom so you didn’t have to search for Steve, he was standing right in your eyesight, staring himself down in the gross mirror.

The navy blue uniform seemed to fit Steve, apparently, your manager had different uniforms on hand. His outfit was a bit different from yours and Robin’s, the shorts being the same with the two white stripes lining the bottoms of the shorts' legs. But the top was different, whereas yours is a navy blue and white striped shirt accompanied by a white collar and red ascot topped with the navy vest with an ice cream cone on your right side and your name tag on the left, Steve’s was just navy blue. Okay, well they still held similar designs, he had the two white stripes on the shirt cuffs along with the cone ironed to his right bicep. There looked to be a red and white striped area to cover the rest of his chest, which you were thankful for since you didn’t want any girls peering at his chest hair. And the only other difference was the white apron around his waist.

He held the horrid sailor hat in a tight grip, probably wishing to burn it to ashes. “Steve, you look so-”

“Stupid,” he cut you off not allowing for your sentence to finish before he harshly judged himself.

You scoffed at the mean comment, “no, I was gonna say you look handsome.” Standing beside him as you wrapped your arms tight along his bicep, head resting below his shoulder.

He looked away from the mirror and cocked his head at you, “handsome?”

You turned your head up, chin digging into the muscle, “Charming? Pretty?”

“I know you’re my girlfriend-” “I’ll never get used to that sentence…but continue, sorry.”

That prompted a smile from him, causing one from you out of reflex, his free hand sliding to the side of your face, thumb resting into your plush cheek, “I know you’re my girlfriend, but you gotta be honest with me here. This outfit depleted all my Harrington charm.”

“Okay, well a few things there are wrong. One, you don’t even work at scoops so this is only for a thirty-second shot, two I didn’t know you were planning on picking up girls in this get-up,” Steve rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, “(Y/n), you know that’s not what I mean.”

“Okay, then let me finish,” you tapped his nose, “three, I think it’s actually helping you.”

He stared at you like you were crazy, “did you hit your head?” The hand resting on your cheek moved to the back of your head to find any bumps.

You moved your hands to rest against his waist, which, “I think you actually look pretty hot, also this shirt is short enough that your stomach flashes when you raise your arms too high. So, yeah, this ridiculous sailor outfit adds even more of your Harrington charm.”

“Have I told you how lucky I am?” “A few times, but a few more wouldn't hurt.”

Your smiling faces leaned into each other, Steve’s tilting down and you pushing on your toes to reach him halfway. And you get a simple press of your lips, nothing going too far because you’re in your gross work bathroom, and also, “Hey lovebirds! We’re ready!”

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

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*strike through means tumblr can’t find your account. sorry*

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - pt.3

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW: LIGHT MENTIONS OF Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing, most of this chapter is all Wonwoo's pov, Wonwoo goes on a date with someone else. ⌦ Word count: 3.07k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than the last two but a lot happens to push the plot forward. It's really random that I put skz in here but I needed someone who had a sister. Fun fact about me, cause it's brought up in this chapter: I'm allergic to apples. The end of this chapter almost had a bitch crying at 4 am. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines

⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

⌦(Wonwoo's pov) It had been a little while since he had heard from you; granted, you had never gone longer than a month without needing him to clean up your messes. This new-found silence from being your knight in shining armor allowed him to begin streaming again. For awhile, he had stopped because your calls of need would come in at least 4-5 times a week.

To say he missed you would be an understatement; he would lie awake after a long night of streaming, waiting for his phone to ring so he could pick you up. After three weeks of no calls, he began to believe that you had fully forgotten about him, all because of a little spat that he could've handled better. He had plans to express how he felt about you, but the world had different plans that day. Maybe you two just weren't meant to be friends anymore.

Wonwoo had tried to take his mind off things; he would distract himself by playing video games until the sun went down. That night, like every other night, he stayed up to play online with a few friends.

"If I die one more time because you're not paying attention, I'm gonna strangle you," Vernon threatened through Wonwoo's headphones. To be honest, Wonwoo was a little distracted today; he kept glancing down at his phone, hoping for a call, a text, or something.

"Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind," Wonwoo replied, the sounds of his mouse clicking and keys clacking filling his room and his eyes beginning to grow tired from staring at such a bright screen for an extended period of time.

"Woo, you need to let her go. She's clearly not interested in your friendship and hasn't been for awhile," Minghao said. If Minghao were talking to anyone else, they surely would've been offended, appalled that he could say something so cold so calmly, but Wonwoo appreciated his honesty; he wouldn't want Minghao to be any other way.

"I agree with Hao; you should put yourself out there; stop waiting for someone who isn't hurting without you," Seungcheol chimed in, everyone having paused their game to give Wonwoo some free therapy while they sat in the Fortnite lobby.

"Are you guys suggesting a date?" Wonwoo asked, pushing his glasses up as he put his hands on his face, muffling his question just a bit.

"Well, I wasn't, but I know someone who'd be great for you," Seungcheol said. He could hear the shrug in his voice, playing matchmaker so nonchalantly. "I'll send you her info; she thinks you're cute anyway," he added. Within seconds, his words were emphasized by the sound of Wonwoo getting a text message. He glanced at the notification, half hoping it was from you and half hoping it wasn't.

It wasn't.

Wonwoo opened his phone, seeing that Seungcheol had sent her Instagram profile along with her phone number. He clicked on the link, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through the professionally taken photos that filled the girl's profile.

"She is really cute," Wonwoo said, clicking on a few photos. There was a familiar face in a few of the photos, though they looked too much alike to be anything more than siblings.

"Seungcheol, is this Chan's sister?" Wonwoo asked, zooming in on one of the photos to get a better look at the girl's alleged brother.

"Bang Chan?" Seungcheol asked.

"Yea, Bang Chan,"

"Yea, why?"

"Just curious," Wonwoo said. He chewed on his bottom lip as he swiped back into his messaging app, looking down at the series of numbers Seungcheol had given him. "You said she thinks I'm cute?"

"Yeah, she talks about you all the time at work," Seungcheol said.

"Well, I'll text her when we get off. Wanna go for one more round?" Wonwoo asked, setting his phone down and getting ready to unpause the game.

"Sounds good," everyone said, continuing with their match.

One game turned into two.

Two games turned into four.

4 turned into 6.

By the time Wonwoo looked at the clock on the PC that displayed his Discord server, he was shocked.

3:26 a.m.

Wonwoo must have really had a lot on his mind; he never stayed up this late, not unless you had needed his help. He yawned, stretching his back when they were back to the games lobby, cracking his neck as it had grown stiff from sitting hunched over a keyboard for so long.

"I think I'm gonna get off guys, I'm getting tired," he said, not waiting for them to object before closing the game and turning his headphones, mic, and pc's off. Wonwoo grabbed his phone as he got up, walking to his closet to grab a pair of night pants and changing into them.

He unlocked his phone, looking at the number again as he began brushing his teeth. After a moment of hesitation, he finally added Hannah's contact information to his phone, messaging her as soon as he finished brushing his teeth.

⌦ Wonwoo: Hey, it's Wonwoo. I know this is super random, but Seungcheol gave me your number, if that's okay.

Wonwoo didn't expect an immediate answer; it was almost 4:00 in the morning. He looked at the unopened message as he left the bathroom, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning off the light. His phone dinged as soon as he walked into his room, and he only opened it once he had lied down in bed.

⌦ 3:55 a.m.

⌦ Hannah: Hey, Wonwoo! It's totally chill; why're you up so late? (Read 3:55 a.m.)

Wonwoo found himself smiling at her message and answering immediately.

⌦Wonwoo: I could ask you the same thing, lol. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: But I was playing Fortnite with Cheol and a few other friends and lost track of time. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: That sounds like a lot of fun. (Read: 4:00a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Why did Cheol give you my number anyway? (read: 4:00 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Uh, he's trying to play matchmaker. (Read: 4:00 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Right (Read: 4:01 a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Well, what are you doing tomorrow? (Read: 4:01 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Nothing as of right now. (Read: 4:02 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: Why are you trying to ask me out? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Yea. (Read: 4:02 a.m.)  ⌦Hannah: How's coffee sound tomorrow at noon? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: You're straight to the point, aren't you? lol (Read: 4:03 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: But, noon tomorrow sounds great! (Read: 4:03 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Great, I'll send you the cafe's info tomorrow. I'm about to fall asleep (Read: 4:03 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Awesome, sleep well (Delivered: 4:04 a.m.)

Wonwoo reread the small interaction he had with Bang Chan's sister, smiling softly as he put his phone on the charger. He turned off his light, took his glasses off, and went to bed.

⌦(Wonwoo's POV cont) Wonwoo was thankful for his habitual routine of waking up at 9:00 a.m. every morning, regardless of when he went to bed. He forgot to set an alarm, having fallen asleep as soon as he put his glasses on his nightstand. Waking up this early gave him a few hours to kill before he had to get around, creating a schedule in his head for how long it would take him to eat breakfast, take a shower, shave, get dressed, and drive to the cafe. He planned on being 15 minutes early; he was always early.

Hannah had already sent Wonwoo the address of the cafe; thankfully, it was only a fifteen-minute drive from his apartment complex with traffic. He ate a light breakfast of two pieces of toast and a glass of apple juice; he'd be damned if he were going to willingly drink orange juice. He rarely ate toast, but with few food ingredients in his fridge or cabinet, toast was his only option.

With thirty minutes to spare after getting ready, Wonwoo grabbed his keys, locking his door as he left to go to his car. Hannah was already at the cafe when he got there, sitting in her car as she waited. Wonwoo parked next to her, pulling out his phone to let her know he was there. When she looked up from her phone, he waved at her with a smile, stepping out of her car to greet her on the sidewalk.

"Hey! I'm so glad you could make it," Hannah smiled as she pulled the taller male into a hug. Wonwoo was stunned at first; she surely was a bold woman, which he seemed to like about her.

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, hugging her back for a moment before they pulled away and walked into the cafe.

It was a small cafe owned by a sweet elderly couple from France. The cafe always had French music playing softly through the store speakers; normally, Wonwoo would have found it nice and cozy, but today it felt cheesy. The two sat down after having ordered their drinks, exposing the poor barista to a small argument over who was paying for their drinks. Hannah won.

"So, tell me about yourself." Hannah smiled, taking a sip from her cappuccino before moving it to the side of the table so she could place her elbows on it, letting her chest rest against her forearms.

"There's not much to know," Wonwoo chuckled, swirling his straw around in his Americano and watching the ice move around with it. "But I'm in college for mechanical engineering, I stream on Twitch sometimes, and I'm a big Marvel buff," he said after a moment.

"Mechanical engineering? So you're smart and cute, huh?" Hannah teased, smiling at the redness that grew on Wonwoo's cheeks from her compliment.

"Tell me about yourself," Wonwoo said, directing the conversation back to the original topic.

"Well, I'm in college for fashion design; I also really like Marvel; and I want to get into PC gaming," she said. Wonwoo looked up at her, stunned that Seungcheol had finally set him up with a girl who shared some of his same interests, and he was already friends with her brother.

Wonwoo was pulled out of his thoughts as his phone rang in his pocket. He looked down at his pants and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Your name and contact photo were displayed on his screen; seeing this made his smile drop slightly. He clicked the side button, silencing the call, before looking up at the girl he was on a date with. "Sorry about that; I thought I put my phone on silent," he said as he placed it back into his pocket.

"It's no problem; if it's important, you can step out and answer it; I won't be upset," Hannah said, gesturing to the window that the two were sitting by. Wonwoo shook his head.

"It wasn't, and besides, it'd be rude to answer a call on our first date," he said.

"And you're considerate? Well damn, I might ask you to marry me right here," she laughed. She stood up after a moment, and in that moment, Wonwoo half expected her to get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. Instead, she grabbed her coffee with one hand and his hand with the other, pulling him up from his seat. "Wanna go on a walk?" She asked, swaying their hands back and forth.

"Are you gonna murder me?" Wonwoo asked, grabbing his coffee from the table.

"I might," she winked, sipping her cappuccino once more.

"At least you're honest," Wonwoo chuckled. His phone began to ring again once they left the building. He looked at it and canceled the phone call.

"Wonwoo, if you need to answer that, I don't mind," Hannah reassured as they began walking along the pathway.

"I don't, I promise." He said.

The walk was nice, and Wonwoo and Hannah seemed to be getting along a lot better than he would have ever imagined. It didn't take long for it to start raining. May's weather was never consistent, which seemed to be the only consistent thing in Wonwoo's life. Inconsistency. Wonwoo had given Hannah his sweater as they walked back to their cars; only when Hannah safely got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot did he leave.

He looked at his phone for a moment, seeing that he had five missed calls and ten messages from you, asking for your help. He almost answered the texts, apologizing that he was busy and couldn't get to his phone. Just as he was about to send his text, he sighed, thinking about what his friends had told him only 12 hours ago. Instead of sending the text, he closed his phone and drove home.

⌦(Reader's POV) You groaned angrily when your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering? Was he still mad? Your head began spinning, even though you couldn't tell if it was because of your impaired state or because Wonwoo was finally giving you a taste of your own medicine. You had ghosted Wonwoo for the better half of your freshman year of college, having found new friends and devoting all of your weekends to partying, so when you finally got ahold of him, he was shocked.

"He works from home; where is he?" You said it angrily, your plethora of messages having been delivered but unread for the better part of two hours. That was what really set you off. He couldn't even give you the respect to apologize.

Against your better judgment, you snatched the keys from your kitchen counter and stumbled out of your apartment, having decided to confront him at his apartment. You've had a few years of practice when it came to driving under the influence, taking back roads, watching the road extra carefully, and driving cautiously, it was easy. Parking your car, you stormed up to his apartment, noting that his car wasn't in the parking lot when you had gotten there.

You called him again.

and again.

and again.

Until finally, you gave up on calling him and decided to send him a hundred more text messages.

⌦You: Wonwoo, I need your help... (Delivered: 11:00 a.m.)

⌦12:45 p.m.

⌦You: Wonwoo, why aren't you answering me??? (Delivered: 12:46 p.m.)

⌦12:57 p.m.

⌦You: Hello? Where are you??? (Delivered: 12:58 p.m.)

⌦1:05 p.m.

⌦You: I'm at your place (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.) ⌦You: Hello!!!!! (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.)

Just as you were about to call him again, you saw that all of your delivered messages had been read. You watched as the three dots by Wonwoo's name appeared.

Then disappeared.

Appeared again.

Until they disappeared for a final time.

Your texts to Wonwoo began to be sent one right after the other, sitting with your back against his front door as you drunkenly blew up his phone. Fifteen minutes had passed before you saw a pair of feet standing in front of you. You looked up and saw the man in question.

Angrily, you stood up shoving your phone in his face as you began to speak.

"I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours now! Where were you?!" You yelled, and Wonwoo gently pushed your phone out of his face. He looked down, unlocking his front door before opening it to let you in. He waited for you to walk inside, quietly apologizing to his elderly neighbor before stepping inside himself.

"I got coffee," he said, setting his keys on the table by his front door and taking his shoes off.

"It took you two hours to get coffee." You asked in disbelief, crossing your arms as your blurred vision did its best to lock onto him.

"You didn't let me finish," he continued. He sat the now-empty to-go cup on his kitchen counter. "I was on a date."

Your heart dropped, and you weren't sure why either. He was only your friend, your shoulder to cry on, and your emergency contact because you knew he would bend over backwards for you.

"Oh," you said.

"Yea."

"You still could have answered after she left," you said. Your anger had softened just a little bit.

"Why? So I can pick your drunk ass up from some stranger's front lawn? It's 2:30, and you're already fucked up." He said, "Your jaw dropped. What was his deal? Why was he being like this?

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you being such a dick all of a sudden?" You asked.

"Because I'm tired of only seeing my best friend when she needs me to be her chauffeur because her other friends left her strung out on God knows what in some stranger's bathroom because she's too drunk to get home." He said. You could see that his words were hurting him just as much as they were hurting you; he wasn't making eye contact with you either. "I can't drop everything to come save you every time you need me; I have a life too," he said. This time his words were soft, almost upset that he'd finally told you how he really felt.

"Fine. I'll leave then." You said this, stepping toward the door only to have the pathway blocked off. "Wonwoo, get out of my way."

"No, I can't let you drive home like this," he said.

"Wonwoo. Get out of my way." You repeated. He didn't move.

"No," He said.

"Now you care about my safety?"

"I've always cared about your safety!"

"Evidently not; evidently it was a burden to you!"

"Do you know why I always dropped everything to come get you?" He snapped.

"To feel better about yourself?" You asked, your words laced with anger. Your eyes began brimming with tears, and your body began to shake. You need to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Because I love you, y/n!" Wonwoo snapped back. He stopped for a second, realizing what he had just said.

"What?" You asked, finally looking up at him.

"I love you.. and it kills me that you're killing yourself like this, but I can't be around you anymore if you're going to continue to hurt yourself. I will always love you, y/n; I hope you know that." He said this, grabbing his keys off the table once more. "Let's go; I'll take you home." You were sure this would be the last time you'd ever hear from him again.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

(Whumpy) WIP Wednesday

Here are 3 snippets from some stories I'm working on. If you see this post, consider yourself tagged (and be sure to tag me if you share your WIPs!)

From Chapter 3 of The Climb (ao3):

Jason stops dead, paralyzed by the fear that cuts through him like the Clown’s scalpel. That wasn’t the voice of another ghost. That was real. He’d been so lost in his delusions that he hadn’t heard the makeshift trap door creak open or the heavy boot-steps descending the unfinished concrete staircase, approaching him. The ringing in his ears grows louder, and his head hurts so much that he thinks he’s gonna pass out. Two bright beams of light pierce the darkness, falling on him, illuminating him like a deer in headlights, knocking the wind out of him like a punch to the gut.

“No…” His whimper catches in his throat. Any courage he had regained from facing certain death was sucked out of him and terror bubbled up in its place. How could he have been so careless? This is why I was left here to rot. This is why I was replaced. He should’ve known the Clown would never let him creep through these halls unprotected. He’d never let his prized plaything slip from his grip. You fucking dumbass. His partner would make him suffer for this.

He throws up a scrawny arm over his face to shield his stinging eyes from the flashlights that are pointed at him. His heart is galloping in his chest, racing toward that trap door that is now blocked by the pair of shadowy figures. He tightens his grip on the wall to keep himself from collapsing and begging these flesh-and-blood specters for mercy.

A really rough excerpt from probably the worst / most twisted moment of Jay's torture at the hands of Joker 🤡 (part of my Ruined series):

(cw: torture for the two snippets under the cut)

“Really, Jason. All this fuss over an ice pack?”

“Oh, the hammer? (chuckles) I just wanted to see your face.”

“Now you hold that there. Good. And let’s get these back on.”

“It’s ok, buddy. Your punishment is over. All is forgiven.”

“Calm down, little bird. Deep breaths. (Inhale , exhale.) Good. That’s my good boy.”

Strokes his sweat-soaked hair. 

“Kill me,” Jason begs through tears, through clenched teeth. “Kill me. Please. Sir. Kill me.”

“Nonsense. We still have work to do, partner.”

“Please,” he sobs, defeated. Can barely get the words out thru his clenched broken teeth. “It hurts so much.” (In a tiny voice)

“You’ll feel better soon, I promise. I’ll even let you rest for a few days before we resume our training. You’ll feel as good as new.”

He just sobs. There is nothing he can do or say. 

After the Clown leaves him: (eerie silence, like a tomb. Never felt so alone in his entire life.)

“Why?” He asks the man who he thought was his father. Sobs. “Why? It hurts. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

From a ficlet tentatively titled "An Apple a Day" (another part of my Ruined series):

When the pliers clamp down around his front tooth, Jason shatters.

“Thank you sir! THANK YOU SIR!” he screams, a blood-sputtering scream, his words slurring around the cold, pitiless metal that’s shoved into his pried-open jaws. He prays that’s enough as he shakes like a puppy on the fourth of July. He gave the psycho what he wanted—he called the man “sir,” like some fucked up sex roleplay. 

Joker has been punishing him for running his mouth. Again. For laughing in his pasty white face when the Party City Clown informed him that he’d be calling the man “sir” from now on. “You can take your ‘sir’ and shove it up your fucking ass,” were his exact words. The old Jason may not have regretted those words. That boy probably would’ve thought this agony was worth it. But that boy’s gone now; murdered by a photo. Batman had bitched at him many times for running his mouth while on patrol. Probably yet another reason why Batman picked a new kid for the job, why the old, rejected kid now has eight throbbing holes in his swollen gums.

Warm, coppery blood dribbles from the corners of his mouth, coating his busted lower lip in crimson gore. His breath’s coming in frantic pants, on the edge of hyperventilating. His armored chest full of broken ribs heaves beneath the heavy braided ropes that bind him to the wooden chair, ropes that squeeze his lungs like a giant’s fist. Nailless fingers dig into the material of his gloved palms as he balls his fists behind his back. No more, he silently prays yet another useless prayer as tears roll down his scarred cheeks. Please no more…

He’s a dumbass for holding out so long. Ten teeth—at least—gone from his mouth now. Two from the fucking crowbar, eight from the Clown’s pliers. And for what? To impress the man who’d left him here to rot? The man he considered his father; his partner who picked a new kid rather than bother finding the old one.

The gloved fist twisted into his matted black hair tightens, tearing at his scalp, and wrenches his head back even further. “Be more specific,” Joker says casually, as if they were discussing the weather over a cup of coffee and not the eight bloody teeth scattered on the table in front of him.

“Thank you for…” His mind races in circles, groping through the immense pain for the right words. (through the pain that shattered his thoughts)

“I think the patient needs another extraction, Dr. J.”

Joker sighs. “Excellent diagnosis, Nurse.”

[made-ofmemories]

When Life Tears You Asunder, But You’re Not Alone

(Chapter 12/18)

General Warnings/tags: Found family, implied Wayne/Susan in future chapters, Max & Eddie have a sibling like relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, Lumax and Steddie make appearances throughout the chapters but the primary focus is on the familial bonds between characters

Chapter specific warnings/tags: The aftermath of last chapter, mention of blood/ description of injuries, angst, a tiny bit of Steddie if you squint but this one mainly focuses on the familial bonds Eddie has with Wayne and Max

Word count: 3452

Summary: Billy was a pretty shitty brother, there was no denying it, but Max still finds herself mourning for the sibling relationship they never got to have. With him gone she thinks so are her chances of ever having the big brother figure she’s always wanted. Then in a turn of events that she never saw coming, Eddie Munson waltzes into her life. Or more like, almost runs her over.

Notes: So, despite saying we were pretty much done with this fic before posting... it continues to grow. As some of you may have noticed we upped the chapter count from 16 to 17 last week, well now you can expect 18 chapters as this one had to be split into 2.

Co-written with the wonderful @ladydorian05 and crossposted on AO3. Updates every Friday.

Series masterlist

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

Max and Steve are directed to a waiting room upon arrival at the hospital. They sit in silence for a while, Steve’s knee bouncing nervously and Max staring down at the beige floor tiles. She’s had enough hospital visits to last her a lifetime, she decides. It’s always the same, bad news accompanied by the smell of disinfectant and fluorescent lights that are just a little too bright. 

She can’t shake the feeling of Andy’s hands wrapped around her arm, holding her in place no matter how much she tried to fight it. Worse than that, she can’t get rid of the image in her mind of Eddie lying there on the floor, bloodied, bruised, and not moving, except sometimes it’s not Eddie at all it’s Billy lying there and suddenly the snowy parking lot morphs into a rural Indiana mall and she finds herself back at Starcourt. 

It’s the sound of a door opening that finally snaps her out of her thoughts. They both look up, expecting a doctor instead they see Wayne. Max stands and Steve follows. She opens her mouth to speak but snaps it closed again when no words come out, she wouldn’t know what to say anyway and she can feel the tears burning at the back of her eyes.

“It’s alright, kid,” Wayne assures her and Max lets herself be pulled into a hug, as much for Wayne’s sake as her own she thinks. She’d never been much of a hugger until she met the Munsons, now she happily wraps her arms around Wayne in return, “It’s gonna be alright.”

Steve steps up next once Max returns to her seat and seemingly finds himself suffering from a similar lack of words. She can’t say she’s surprised, he’d kept his cool earlier, forced back his emotions, and dealt with the situation. It was catching up to him now. 

“Hopper called me,” Wayne explains, breaking the ice between the two of them. Max knows they’ve met before, but as for how close they are she has no idea, “got here as fast as I could.”

“They uh- they haven’t told us anything yet.” Steve says,” They just brought us in here and-” He gestures with one hand to the room around them before bringing the same hand to his face and rubbing at the side of his clenched jaw. 

“I know, come on, sit down.” He places a hand on Steve’s shoulder with a firm pat in a kind of almost hug. Wayne doesn’t seem as comfortable with Steve as he did with Max but he’s trying, Max can see that much, “Hopper told me what you did, I think I owe you a thanks.” 

“It’s ok, Mr.Munson, really.” Steve brushes off the compliment, “I didn’t really do anything, the kids were just as much help as I was.”

“You’ve saved my boy twice now, the least I can do is say thank you.”

Max doesn’t say anything, still can’t quite find the words, but she listens. She wants to tell Steve to take the damn compliment, that he’s more than deserving of it and that Eddie gets his stubbornness from Wayne so it’s a losing battle regardless, but she doesn’t. 

The door opens again and all 3 heads snap in the direction of the doctor walking into the waiting room, she’s wearing scrubs and her hair is slicked back into a neat bun at the back of her head, “Mr. Munson?” She asks.

“That’s me.” Wayne says standing to meet the woman halfway, Max and Steve follow close behind, “How is he?”

“Stable.” She says and Max can see the weight lift from Wayne’s shoulders, “He’s still unconscious right now, he’s suffered a concussion, a lot of bruising but luckily no broken bones. Your nephew is very lucky.” 

Lucky isn’t the word Max would use. Luck wouldn’t get him torn apart by demonic bat creatures from an alternate dimension, it wouldn’t turn an entire town against him for crimes he didn’t even commit and it wouldn’t get him beaten to a pulp by Jason and his idiotic friends. 

“Can we see him?” Wayne asks.

“Of course, this way.” The doctor says, holding the door open for them. Wayne leads the way and Max follows behind him whilst Steve takes up the rear of their group, “I’m sorry, family only.” She adds stepping in front of Steve and cutting him off before he can follow. 

Steve’s about to protest, but Wayne cuts him off before he can make the situation worse, “He is family.” There’s a small smile on Steve’s face when Wayne’s eyes land on him briefly.

The doctor considers it for a moment, her expression matching that of the paramedic earlier, clearly seeing through the lie, but deciding to let it slide anyway when she steps aside with a nod. 

They follow her into a small room with a bed in the middle of it, it’s not dissimilar to the room Max remembers from her own stay in hospital after her run-in with Vecna. It’s silent except for the steady beeping of a heart monitor. Eddie’s sleeping form occupies the bed, his back is propped up by pillows leaving him in a half-sitting position. The blood has been cleaned from his face and his t-shirt and jeans have been replaced by a hospital gown.

Max rushes to his side, Steve close behind her, whilst Wayne stays back to talk with the doctor, asking her for more specific information about Eddie's state. Max tunes it out for the most part, the majority of it is medical stuff she doesn’t understand anyway.

The 3 of them stay there until long after the sun has set, seated by Eddie's side in uncomfortable plastic chairs. Wayne has questions about what happened that Steve and Max do their best to answer. If the clenched fist and tense jaw is anything to go by Max would say it’s lucky for Jason that it was Steve and the others who found them and not Wayne, or maybe it was unlucky, depending on the perspective. They don’t talk much after that until Hopper shows up to take statements and baring the good news of 3 arrests.

“Alright, that’s all I need for now.” Hopper says walking back into Eddie's temporary room, Steve trailing behind before returning to his seat by Eddie’s side, “Can’t keep them for more than a night if their parents pay the bail, but I’ll keep an eye on them until Eddie wakes up. He’ll need to come down to the station when he’s able. Considering the injuries he sustained the best he can do for now is file a criminal complaint.”

“And what happens then?” Wayne asks.

“Best case scenario? Jason gets some jail time and a restraining order. The other two will probably get let off with a fine.”  

“I see. Thank you, Jim.”

“No problem.” Hopper says, before gesturing with a hand for Max to stand up from her chair. “Alright, c'mon kid.”

“What? I already told you everything.” Max says confused.

“I spoke to your mom, let her know what was happening.” He explains, “Told her I’d make sure you got home safe.”

“I’m not leaving.” She says firmly and Hopper drags the palm of his hand over his face with a sigh, she gets the impression it’s been a long day.

“I can’t just leave you here.”

“It’s ok.” Wayne chimes in, leaning forward with a hand on Max’s shoulder, “I’ll be here all night anyway. I’ll talk to her mom, make sure she gets home safe.”

Hopper doesn’t argue any further, just nods in agreement, “Let me know when he wakes up.” He says over his shoulder on his way out.

 ----------

Eddie wakes in the early hours of the following morning. The throbbing pain in his skull is the first thing he notices, followed by a soreness in the middle of his face and the weight of a hand atop his own which he is able to make out as Waynes once he peels his eyes open enough to see his surroundings. His vision is still blurred, but he’s able to make out 2 other figures in the room, Max and Steve slumped against each other asleep. Wayne is asleep too, his head lolled back in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position, but his eyes shoot open when Eddie squeezes his hand with what little strength he can find.

“Eddie?” His uncle says in disbelief, still groggy from whatever little rest he’d been able to get.

“What happened?” He asks, his memory is foggy and he doesn’t remember much beyond leaving work at the end of his shift, “Didn’t get eaten by bats again did I?” It’s an attempt at a joke, but it doesn’t come out the way he wants it to, his voice dry and scratchy from lack of use. Wayne doesn’t seem to find it funny either.

“I’m goin’ to ignore that.” uff, his uncle’s accent is slipping, he must be really tired.

“Yes, please.”

“To make it short, that Carver boy and his friends roughed you up pretty bad, son. You’re in the hospital.”

“Fuck, how’s Max?” He says in a rush. Max had been with him. He remembers that much, she'd gone to work with him that morning, “Did they hurt her?”

“No, her shoulder is a little sore but she’ll be fine.”

“Good, good, that’s good,” Eddie says with a grimace.

“You okay, son?”

“Yeah, yeah, just a headache.” He squeezes his eye’s shut, his left one is still so swollen it was barely open in the first place, hoping the relief from the bright hospital lights will do something for the pain, “The worst headache I’ve ever had.”

“Here, one of the nurses left some water and painkillers in case you woke up.”

“Thanks.” He says taking the small plastic cup with the pills and the cup of water when Wayne offers them. It hurt to move his arm, but it was bearable enough.

“Hopper was here last night, he got all three of ‘em but won’t be able to keep them for long. He suggested that we file a complaint and once we get a hearing, ask for a restraining order.”

“But, then we’d need a lawyer. Lawyers are expensive.”

“We have the money from what happened in spring.”

“Yeah, and we said it was for emergencies only.”

“I think this would classify as an emergency,” Wayne says as if it’s obvious and after a few more seconds of thought Eddie realizes maybe he has a point, but there are still issues with the whole thing.

“The Carvers have money, they’re just going to get better lawyers or buy the judge and find a way to turn this whole thing against me!” 

He’s scared. Half the town still hates him, what’re they going to think when he gets their golden boy arrested and taken to court? He never should have stayed in Hawkins, but he can’t ask Wayne to leave his home, and leaving him behind isn’t an option. Not to mention the sleeping figures on the other side of the room are two more reasons to stay. 

“Eddie, this can’t happen again!” Wayne whispers harshly, mindful of Max and Steve who are still sleeping. “This time it was a concussion, a broken nose, and some bruises, What’s it goin’ to be next, Huh? I’ll get a call sayin’ he got you alone? I’ll end up arranging a funeral?” Wayne sighs heavily, rubbing his temples with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “If we have a chance of at least getting a restraining order we need to take it. It might be a piece of paper, but then he’ll know that if he breaches it his future would be done for.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, and in that moment Eddie can see just how worried Wayne had been for him. While impossible to forget, he sometimes took for granted the fact that his uncle raised him as his own, loves him beyond the familial tie of Eddie being his brother’s kid.

“Okay.” He says, so quiet that if Wayne hadn’t been sitting so close he probably wouldn’t catch it.

“Thank you. Now, go back to sleep, doc said you need to rest and to avoid straining your brain too much, whatever that means. We’ll be here when you wake up.” Wayne says with a strained smile, taking Eddie’s hand back into his and softly patting it with his free one.

The next time he wakes up is to a room full of gremlins talking over each other. His head still hurts, less than before but the pain is there. He can feel something across the bridge of his nose and he frowns, raising his hand to touch the splint, he hadn’t noticed it before.

“I told you to keep it down, twerps. Look what you did, you woke him up.” 

He finally cracks his eyes open when he hears Steve’s scolding. Wayne isn’t there, but Max, Lucas, Will, El, Dustin, and Mike are standing scattered around the room. He briefly wonders just how long it’d taken Steve to charm the nurse into letting all of them in at once. Between Steve, Wayne, and Max they were already breaking the 2 visitors at a time rule most days. 

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asks, gently helping him shuffle up the bed into a more upright position. 

“Like I got hit by a truck.”

“Try an asshole,” Mike mutters. It earns him some stern glares from the others.

“What the hell man?” Lucas whisper-yells.

“What? It’s true!” 

“At least this asshole didn’t rip off my nipple.” He jokes, but when he says it he realizes he doesn’t actually know that for sure, “Right?” He gets a couple of weird stares from Dustin and Mike, but no one answers him which leaves him frantically pulling at the collar of the hospital gown and sighing in relief when he sees his right nipple intact. “Thank god it’s still there!”

“Gross dude, what would they even want with your nipple?”

“You never know Henderson. Besides, it’s the only nipple I have left, gotta take care of it.”

“Now that you’ve checked that your precious nipple is still there,” Steve says, rolling a small table with a tray on top over to him, “you need to eat something before taking your meds.”

“Hospital food sucks.” He complains, picking through the assortment of prepackaged food presented to him, a sandwich, a bag of pre-cut fruit, and- “At least there’s jello.” He picks up the little cup, probably the best thing he’s going to get in this place, “Hey, where’s Wayne?” He asks between mouthfuls.

“He went to get some coffee, said he had some calls to make. Something about asking for days off at work and I think he was going to notify your boss too.”

Eddie nods around another mouthful of jello and then his attention turns to Dustin who has taken a seat on the end of the bed.

“I told the rest of Hellfire that you were here, they said they would come by later today.” 

“Thanks man, I was going to ask Wayne to tell them. We had band practice today.” 

The teens stay as long as they can, chattering away the entire time, they just seem to be glad he’s going to be ok. He’s discussing DnD campaigns with Will and Dustin when the nurse comes in to usher everyone out. 

“Alright people, your 20 minutes are up. Go on, say your goodbyes, I want the 5 of you out before the doctor gets here.” She seems nice, Eddie doubts Steve had to do much convincing after all, “And if you come back to visit your friend, please do so in pairs, three people at most or you’re going to get me into trouble.” She adds with a soft smile whilst holding the door open.

Dustin and Will are the first to hug him, both squeezing so hard it makes his already delicate ribs hurt. Lucas is next and much gentler followed by El who he suspects is holding back purposefully so as not to hurt him. Mike is last, just offering a little wave until Dustin nudges him and the pair of them share a short back-and-forth of facial expressions, the silent conversation eventually ends in Eddie receiving an awkward one-armed hug which makes him laugh. Mike has never been the most outwardly affectionate towards his friends, Eddie appreciates the effort.

Steve leaves too with the promise of returning after his shift, Robin could only cover for him for so long. Besides, someone had to drive the little twerps home and Hopper had been kind enough to drop off Steve’s car earlier.

He’s left alone in the room with Max for the first time since waking up, he noticed before that out of all of them she had been the quietest. It’s not right, he doesn’t like it.

“Hey, Red. Want some jello before I finish it?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done.” He nods with wide-eyed innocence despite Max’s clear annoyance.

“You’re unbelievable! That’s the first thing you say to me?” She asks and Eddie keeps quiet, suspecting she doesn’t actually want an answer, “He beat you to a pulp and-”

“Whoa, that’s a bit too much, I’m still in one piece.”

“Barely! He beat you, Eddie! And he wouldn’t stop, and then, and then you were on the floor and you were so still I couldn’t even tell if you were breathing!” He sees her trying to blink her tears away, but it only makes them roll down her face. “What if- What if Steve and the others hadn’t arrived when they did to scare them off? What then!? What if he hadn’t stopped?”

“Hey, hey come here.” He leaves the jello and spoon on the table and pushes it away, he opens his arms and gestures for her to climb on the bed beside him, she does so being mindful of his bruises, the IV on his hand, and his nose when she tucks her face on his shoulder. “There we go.” He’s drawing imaginary circles on her back with his hand, just like his mother, and later Wayne, used to do for him when he was upset, to try and bring her some comfort.

“If only I could have- Why do I have to be so useless at helping the people I care about?”

“Hey now, that’s my sister you’re insulting.” That earns him a sniffle which sounds something like a laugh, “Besides, I wasn’t much better. I couldn’t save us an-”

“Are you kidding? It’s not your fault, Jason had you!” She breaks away from the hug so she can look at him properly and swipes the tears from her eyes in the process. 

“And it’s not yours either, Andy grabbed you too.”

“But you told me to run, maybe if I had listened to you I could have called Hopper sooner and you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed.”

“Maybe, but the past is the past, Red. And you did plenty, you’re so fucking brave that it scares me, kid.” His voice wobbles just a little bit, but he manages to get it back under control before he continues, “But seriously, next time-”

“Like hell  will there be a next time.”

“Listen, if we ever find ourselves in a similar situation and I tell you to run, you run, you run like hell and try to get help, okay?”

 “I can’t promise you that I will.”

“Red… Max, I know you’re tough, but some things are beyond you and me, at least promise that you’ll first consider the situation before rushing in like a knight.”

“Okay.”

“I know most of the time it feels like it’s just you and me, but guess what? We’re not alone, we have people that care, that will have our backs when we need them. And we can ask for help whenever we need it. Took me a while to realize it, but it’s true.”

“Okay.” She repeats, her voice steadier and the tears starting to dry.

Wayne finds them there a half an hour later, once everything is dealt with. Max is curled up on the edge of the bed and both of them are fast asleep. Eddie’s meal and medication lie forgotten on the wheeled table by his feet and he moves it before either of them can accidentally kick it.  He grabs the extra bed sheet folded by the end of the bed to cover Max with it and decides to just let them sleep.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

Finders Keepers Works With Babies, Right?

by NickieDarling

His wings were bright white, just like the angels in stories Wilbur had heard of. White wings were super duper rare, and Wilbur was sometimes praised just for having a few white feathers mixed into his light brown ones. But this baby? He had entirely white wings, something unheard of.

This baby and Wilbur must have been destined to meet with them sharing white feathers! He had to be Wilbur’s angel, his baby, his– his baby brother!

Oh, it all made sense! This was Wilbur’s special present! A present unlike anything else he had ever gotten! He looked just like his Daddy and had white wings like Wilbur because he was a baby brother for Wilbur! His Daddy had gotten Wilbur a brother!

----------

AKA child Wilbur takes one look at infant Tommy and asks if anyone is gonna take him, then doesn't wait for an answer. (It's also a mafia and avian au, but like, mostly crimeboys and some sandduo fluff)

Words: 4427, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of My Darling One-Shots

Fandoms: Dream SMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson | Philza

Additional Tags: Wilbur Soot-centric, Young Wilbur Soot, Baby TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson is Wilbur Soot's Parent, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Avian Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Avian TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Avian Wilbur Soot, Avian Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wingfic, Mafia Phil Watson | Philza, Alternate universe - Mafia, Avian Instincts (Origins Mod), Animal Instincts, Hybrids, Protective Sleepy Bois Inc, Possessive Sleepy Bois Inc, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, not dishwasher safe, Accidental Baby Acquisition, TWB MCC Event Battle Box, The Writer's Block Minecraft Championships 2023 (Video Blogging RPF), The Writer's Block MCC Cyan Creepers

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Back when we were kids we swore we knew the future

by blingbland When Jason had seen the flash of bright light, had seen Dick fall to the ground like a ragdoll, his stomach had fallen onto the ground with him. He had stared at Dick, expecting him to jump up-- do fucking something. But he didn’t. So he grabbed Dick and brought him to the fucking cave, because-- because-- he’s a fucking idiot. He’d been expecting a fight when he came back; expected Bruce to kick him out, punch him, shout at him, stick a tranquilizer in his neck to send him to Arkham-- Instead he’d grabbed Dick out of his arms and rushed to the med bay. and-- Jason stayed, so he could figure out how to wake the kids up from-- whatever the fuck the Clock King did to them. Tim and Bruce eventually managed it, and Dick had seemed fine. Except for the way he kept glancing at Jason, like he was a ghost. Except for the way he explained what happened-- where he had been. 2015. April. Except for the way he begged Bruce to let him go back, to save Jason, he- He was fucking going to go to Ethiopia with Jason?   or   after the events of everything goes away, Dick dedicates his energy to reconnecting with the brother he has right in front of him Words: 6580, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English Series: Part 2 of But I'm gonna be here 'til forever, so just call when you're around Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Jason Todd Has Anger Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Has Issues, They all have issues via https://ift.tt/XwjVD8Y

[sixhours]

bright spots - chapter 12

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Teen Words: 3.6k Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Marlene, canon divergence, hospital AU, medical stuff, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, vomiting, implied rape/sexual assault, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Joel

It’s been three months since they arrived at the hospital.

They’re hanging out in their room when a distant alarm sounds outside. Joel barely hears it at first, registers it as a ringing, whining noise, almost able to ignore it until Ellie looks up from her magazine, where she’s been doodling on the pictures with her crayons. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Uh huh…”

They go to the window but there’s nothing to see. A couple of Fireflies jog across the street in the distance, presumably moving toward the source of the sound, but then it goes quiet again.

He’s almost put it out of his mind when another alarm goes off, this one closer and clearer. 

Unnerved, Joel sticks his head out of their room where one of the nurses–the young one–is working at the desk.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“I don’t know–”

“Where’s Marlene?”

“I don’t–”

“You don’t know,” he mutters. “Right.”

“Joel?” Ellie pokes her head out of their room. “What’s going on? They’re ”

“I don’t–”

“I’m here,” Marlene says, boots echoing down the hall. “We’ve been tracking a horde on the western side of the city.”

“How big?” Joel asks.

She frowns. “Big enough that we’re keeping an eye on it. We’re trying to redirect them.”

“Is that what those sounds are outside?” Ellie asks.

She nods. “We try to draw their attention with the sirens.”

“That work?” Joel asks, folding his arms.

Marlene shifts her gaze to the side. “Sometimes.”

“What does that mean for us?”

“For you? Nothing,” she says. “We’ve shored up the guards on the first and second levels and we’re moving the labs up to the fifth floor. Just a precaution.”

 “I want a weapon,” Joel says.

Marlene scoffs. “Right.”

“I’m serious.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Joel–”

“You want me to protect her, I can’t do that with my bare fuckin’ hands, Marlene.”

“We have plenty of soldiers holding the perimeter. They won’t make it this far.”

“An’ if they do? You got a plan B?”

“They won’t.”

He snorts. “So we’re fucked.”

“I have it under control,” she says, jaw tight.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he mutters. “But I’m not gonna let you leave us defenseless–”

“You won’t be,” she snaps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to deal with this. Stay put.”

“Like we can go anywhere else,” Ellie mutters. When Marlene is out of sight, she looks up at him. “What do we do?”

“Pack your bag, keep it close,” he says. “Just in case we need to run.”

~*~

All the tests are put on hold while they move the labs to higher ground. The elevator at the end of the hall dings constantly throughout the afternoon, running loads of equipment up and people down…until suddenly the lights go out.

“Just a precaution,” the nurse murmurs as she delivers an extra lantern to their room. “The less noise, the better.”

That night, without the hum of the building around them, the wail of the sirens is even harder to ignore, and it’s soon followed by the faint popping sounds of automatic gunfire.

Joel doesn’t sleep much to begin with, so he’s aware of Ellie’s tossing and turning on the other side of the curtain as he sits up that night with his book. He finally gives up and puts it aside. He keeps losing his place, anticipating the next alarm, ready to…well, he doesn’t know what the hell they’ll do if the horde makes it out this far, and no one will tell him anything. It feels like fighting a battle blindfolded with both hands behind his back.

And then a particularly loud siren goes off, and he hears Ellie’s strangled gasp of surprise. It reminds him of Sarah when she was little, woken from sleep by a sharp thunderclap, the pad of anxious footsteps in the hall and the creak of his bedroom door opening, a warm six-year-old tucked against his side for the remainder of the night.

As if on cue, Ellie appears at the edge of the curtain divider, eyes wide.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Nope,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice wavers the slightest bit.

He shifts over and pats the mattress beside him, pulling back the covers. “C’mon.”

“They’re so fucking loud,” she grumbles, climbing into bed. “Every time I start to fall asleep another one goes off.”

“Want me to read some more?” he asks. “Might drown ‘em out.”

“No…thanks, though,” she sighs. He cups her head with one hand, absently stroking her hair.

“Do you think they’ll make it this far?” she whispers after a while.

“I dunno, kid,” he murmurs. “Probably not…”

“What if they do?”

He’s been thinking about it ever since the power was cut. Marlene might not be willing to share her plans for surviving a swarm, but that wouldn’t stop him from making some of his own.

“We go to the roof,” he says, trying to project an air of confidence, hoping to put her at ease. “Not likely to be multiple access points up there, easier to get out of reach. Swarms don’t usually stay in one place long…they’ll move on.”

She gives him a look that suggests he’s doing a piss-poor job of reassuring her, but then nods tightly in agreement. “The roof. Got it.”

Ellie

She’s woken by the sound of boots and yelling in the hall. She finally fell asleep curled up against Joel’s outstretched legs, forehead pressed to his thigh. She feels slightly embarrassed at crawling into bed with him like a fucking baby, but she’s too keyed up to give herself shit about it right now.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“The horde moved overnight.”

Joel’s deep voice carries from the hallway mixed with the voices of others; guards, probably.

“Closer?”

“Shit. Where’s Marlene?”

She flings back the covers, bare feet padding across the cool tile floor. It’s hot already, muggy and stuffy in their room; the central air must still be off.

“What’s happening?” Ellie pulls back the curtain, rubbing at her face with her sleeve.

“Nothin’,” Joel says absently. “Still got your bag packed?”

She nods, gestures to the pack on her bed.

“Good. Keep it close.”

She does.

The nurses don’t bring food like they normally would, not that Ellie could eat right now, anyway. A sense of doom hangs heavy in the air, and the normally bustling halls are quiet. She thinks this is what people mean when they talk about the calm before the storm.

Ellie spends the morning perched on the window seat with her pack in her lap and watches the limited view of the city outside. She sees Fireflies occasionally running, hears the alarms still going off at regular intervals. Meanwhile Joel is in the bathroom making a lot of fucking noise. She abandons her window seat and goes to the door, watching as he draws his hand along the edges of the shower, the exposed pipe underneath the sink.

“What are you doing?”

Now he’s examining the mirror, pulling at the corners, but it’s stuck tight to the wall. “Tryin’ to find a weapon.”

She looks at him skeptically. “Ooookay.”

Obviously the dude’s losing it. She goes back to the window and tries not to think about how fucking weird Joel is acting right now.

The first explosion goes off around ten, a distant roar as the building trembles from the aftershocks.

“Joel! What the hell was that?”

“Shit,” Joel whispers. “They’re bombing…”

She glances at him. “Is that a good thing?”

“No…it means they’re runnin’ outta options.”

She grips her pack tighter and goes to the window again. They can’t see anything, and when they attempt to go into the hall to see if the other rooms have a better vantage point, the guards block their way.

“Orders are to keep you secure until we’re told otherwise,” one of them says.

“Assholes,” Ellie hisses.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s…play a game or somethin’,” Joel mutters, hand to her shoulder, trying to pull her back into the room.

She wheels on him. “I don’t wanna get eaten alive playing fucking Boggle!”

“You’re not gettin’ eaten alive if I have anythin’ to say about it. Now let’s go.”

“Joel, this is so fucking stupid. We’re sitting here doing fuck-all and you’re looking for weapons in the fucking bathroom.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m right there with you, kid, but pissin’ off the guards isn’t gonna help.”

“So what the fuck do we do ?”

“I don’t–”

Another explosion cuts him off. This one rattles the glass in the windows and sends them both to the floor.

“Fuck!” Ellie groans, hands pressed to the tile, still feeling the reverberations as the sound fades to a distant rumble.

“That was closer,” Joel mutters.

Ellie scrambles to her feet, headed for the window.

“Ellie!” he hisses. “Don’t–”

She ignores him, pressing her face to the glass.

“Whoa…oh shit, Joel! Look…”

A rough hand yanks her unceremoniously back from the thin pane as he growls at her under his breath, kid, what the hell are you thinkin’ . But she can’t take her eyes off the horizon, a sickening realization swirling in her stomach as it moves and ripples.

“Joel, out there! Look!”

They squint into the midday sun. Up the street in the far distance there’s a rippling in the air like heat off a hot pavement, a mass of moving bodies.

It would be really fucking cool if it weren’t headed right for them.

“They’re here,” she whispers, mouth suddenly dry.

There’s a flurry of activity from that point on. They watch the horde move in a kind of trance, watch the mass of infected move like a wave through the surrounding streets. Windows in the nearby buildings shatter as the massive group flails against them, the pressure of the crowd enough to fully collapse the least stable structures, leaving the others torn apart and covered with fungal gore. Their groans and shrieks become a dull roar in the background, and Ellie can feel the collective force of the impact when they reach the hospital campus, the floor beneath them trembling like the aftershocks of the last bomb. Soon there’s the shattering of glass and shouting from below, gunfire and barked orders to retreat.

The door to their room opens and the two guards from before have been joined by two more. She recognizes Lee.

“We’re going to the roof,” she says, eyes flinty in the dim light of the darkened hallway. “You’ll be safer up there. Let’s move.”

Joel gets his pack, hefts it to his shoulder, and indicates for Ellie to do the same. Before they cross the threshold, her hand shoots out and grabs for him, palm sweaty, half expecting him to swat her away, but he only looks at her, surprised, before taking her fingers in his and holding tight.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers, and she nods, not sure if she believes him, but it’s not like she has much choice.

They’re led up the stairwell flanked on all sides by Fireflies. Sounds travel up from the floors below, the narrow column of the stairwell creating an echo chamber of terror. There’s shouting, panicked screams, and the incessant din of the infected underneath. Ellie keeps her grip on Joel’s hand iron-tight all the way to the roof.

Outside, the sounds are deafening. Even six stories up, Ellie has to clap her hands over her ears to drown it out. The smell wafting up from below is all rot and mildew, cloying and rank. They’re led to a small alcove and ordered to sit on the ground, back to a wall, the four Fireflies fanned out in front of them.

Worse than the groans of the infected are the human screams that ring out, begging and pleading each time the horde claims a new victim. Now Joel’s hands are around her ears, too, and she thinks she might be crying, but soon her tears are mixed with sweat and she can’t tell them apart.

They stay that way for what feels like hours, out in the open with no protection from the blazing summer sun until Joel pulls a shirt out of his pack and drapes it over their heads. One of the Fireflies leaves and comes back with a jug of water. Joel uses some of it to wet their clothes and they save the rest for drinking. The dark surface of the roof radiates the heat upwards until it feels like they’re baking from all sides. She’s sweating buckets, but Ellie stays pressed to Joel’s side and his arm stays firmly fixed over her shoulders.

Occasionally the walkies on the guards’ belts crackle, requesting backup, calling out the horde’s movements. Something about outposts being overrun, the detonator on one of the bombs going off too soon and taking out a crew of Fireflies. Ellie strains to hear but between the ringing in her ears and the sounds of the infected, it’s mostly garbled static.

At some point, an explosion goes off directly beneath them, and it feels like the whole building might shake apart and bring them down with it. Every loud noise, every vibration makes Ellie twitch and she thinks she can smell her own fear over the sweat and the fungal rot and the baking asphalt around them.

“It’ll pass,” Joel says softly, in a tone that tries to be reassuring, but his expression gives him away. He’s trying not to look terrified for her sake and he’s fucking terrible at it.

The sun has dipped below the horizon by the time the horde begins to disperse, to undulate its way beyond the hospital and out into the rest of the city, the hivemind having determined there’s nothing left in the vicinity of the hospital to ravage. It’s been dark for hours when they’re led back down to the fourth-floor wing, trudging on numb legs. She expects to find the place ransacked or at least changed in some way, but it’s just as dull and sterile as they’d left it. There’s still no power; without central air, the wing is stifling and stale, but it’s better than full sunlight. Her whole body aches from holding itself stiff and crunched up under the damp shirt, her ears still ringing with the phantom sounds of the horde.

She jumps when Joel puts a careful hand on her shoulder.

He urges her toward the bathroom to clean up, and she goes, still feeling the thrum of adrenaline moving like cordyceps under her skin. When she looks down, she’s surprised to see her hands are shaking. Everything feels distant like she’s moving through a fog, waking up from one of her nightmares.

She peels off her sweaty, sodden layers so she can sponge the worst of the grime off with water from another jug. She still feels gross, but the clean hospital scrubs are cool against her overheated skin.

Without thinking, she wordlessly climbs into Joel’s cot and burrows under the covers. She’s still there when he comes back from the bathroom dressed in blue scrubs and he doesn’t protest to find her. He just takes a seat beside her and puts a hand on her back, rubbing up and down like he did when she was sick.

It’s over. They’re safe. But she can’t convince her heart. It throbs in her chest, echoes in her ears, makes it hard to breathe. A harsh sob works its way out of her throat before she can smother it.

“Ellie?”

She shakes her head, not sure what she’s rejecting. It’s so stupid, she’s been through so much worse than a hot day for fuck’s sake. But something inside her is unraveling at a frightening pace and she can’t stop it; can’t stop her shoulders from shaking or the sobs from coming out.

“Hey…talk to me, baby. You hurt?”

She shakes her head again.

He’s leaning over her, probably looking for cuts or bruises or something to indicate why she’s suddenly turned into a big fucking baby. She squeezes her eyes shut so she doesn’t have to see him, doesn’t have to see the disappointment and worry and all the ways she’s become a burden–

A soft grunt and the cot dips more fully under his weight as he lays down.

“C’mere.”

There’s only a moment’s hesitation before she throws an arm around his waist and digs in with a sob, muffling it in his stomach. He smells like Joel even under the cheap scrubs, like sweat and something woodsy and warm. She’s shaking now, shivering even though it’s like a hundred degrees, like she’s not already buried in blankets.

“S-so…s-s-stupid,” she hisses between her teeth, hiccuping. “I-I can’t-c-c-can’t s-stop.”

“S’alright,” he whispers. “I know. Gotta release the stress somehow. You’re okay.”

He’s rubbing her back again, the same easy rhythm up and down, up and down.

“S-s-stupid,” she spits. “I-I-I-”

“Shhh,” he whispers against the top of her head. “Just let it out. I gotcha.”

So she does. She cries and shivers and she’s probably getting snot on Joel’s shirt but he doesn’t move, doesn’t push her away, just brushes her hair out of her face when it gets sweaty and talks to her softly.

The panic attack or whatever the fuck it is lasts for hours. By the time she’s done, there’s weak light coming through the window and her whole body aches like she’s been forced to run endless laps even though she’s barely moved. Her eyes are raw, her nose stings, her chest burns. The door to their room opens and Joel shifts slightly; she’s too exhausted to make out what he’s saying or who he’s speaking to.

The door closes. His voice is rough and his hand cups the back of her neck, carefully tracing the ridge at the base of her skull with his fingers. There’s something hypnotic about the motion and she misses his next words until his fingers stop moving and he asks again.

“Ellie? You hearin’ me, baby?”

She nods once.

“You want somethin’ to eat?”

Oh. Right. They haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, but the thought of food turns her stomach. She’s still up on that blazing-hot roof, the smell of infected lingering in her sinuses, the back of her throat. She grips at his shirt, burrows closer, doesn’t answer.

“How ‘bout some water, huh?” he nudges her.

She spent most of yesterday sweating and the rest of the night sobbing her stupid eyes out. Her mouth tastes like ass, tongue feels like sandpaper, throat hurts like she’s swallowed rusty nails. She manages a soft grunt.

“Gonna take that as a yes,” he mutters. “C’mon, sit up here.”

Reluctantly, she lets him pull away, face burning with embarrassment as she does as he asks. He produces a cup of water with a straw and she takes it readily.

“Little sips,” he murmurs. “Don’t wanna upset your stomach.”

Too late for that, she thinks miserably. But the water helps soothe her raw throat. When she finally works up the nerve to meet his eyes, she finds them bloodshot and dark-rimmed; he looks about as good as she feels.

“Power’s back,” he says as if reading her mind. “Shower might help.”

She doesn't want to leave him, but she’s not ready to admit that. And the thought of running water, a real shower with soap, suddenly sounds too good to pass up. She wipes at her face and nods, and his face softens, some of the worry lines smoothing out.

He’s right, too, as usual. Clean for the first time in hours and dressed in fresh scrubs, she feels much more calm. And really fucking exhausted, like she could sleep for three days. She comes out of the bathroom and Joel looks up, still red-eyed and mussed.

“Want me to braid your hair?” he offers.

She opens her mouth to say no because she doesn’t need him to braid her stupid hair. But then she remembers the anxious worry in his face, the way he’d stayed up with her all night. Again. Decides she’s saying yes for him, not for her.

She shrugs. “Sure.”

He’s faster at it this time. And it’s kind of nice to have it out of her face when it’s wet. He squeezes her shoulder when he’s done. “All set.”

She curls up in her bed, feels the pull of sleep almost immediately. She hears Joel go into the bathroom, hears the water run for a while. She’s still drifting when he comes out dressed in his usual clothes, rubbing at his hair with a towel until it sticks up in funny spikes. She hears him go to his cot, the creak as he sits down, and some lingering anxiety bubbles up in her chest. It’s so fucking stupid, but….

She sits up.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I…can I, uh…”

He tilts his head, then seems to catch her meaning without her having to ask. “Sure, kiddo.”

His cot is smaller than her bed, not nearly as comfortable, but as soon as she crawls in she feels the tightness in her chest loosen, even more when he lies down, too. She scoots closer and wraps her arm around his waist, hears a surprised murmured oh under his breath. He’s wearing a flannel, one of the ones he wore on the road, softer than any of the cheap scrubs, and she sinks into it.

“Think you can sleep now?” he whispers when she’s firmly tucked under his chin. She hears the rumble of his voice in his chest like a purr and nods, because she’s almost asleep already. 

Her last waking sensation is a faint pressure at the top of her head–so unfamiliar, so foreign, she doesn’t even recognize it as a kiss.

[urbancowboyjoel]

Bite The Hand | Joel Miller x f!afab!reader

Bite The Hand: Prologue

Read on AO3 | Series masterlist | Bite The Hand Playlist

Joel relives the worst night of his life.

Word Count: ~1.9k

A/N: I'm super excited to share this story with you all. The chapters following the prologue will be written in reader format. :) (updated 5/29/24)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, depictions of violence/blood, PTSD (refer to masterlist for complete series warnings & tags)

Bite The Hand: Prologue

The brightness of the flashlight against the abyss of black blinded Joel. A few moments earlier he had been running from whatever those things were, desperate to get Sarah to safety. His heart beat wildly beneath his chest, the warmth of his blood rushing through his veins radiated an intense heat off of his skin. Despite the cool autumn night air in Texas, sweat trickled down his back, coating his arms in a slick, sticky layer. His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath burning his throat, while a sharp pain in his side suddenly manifested.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re safe,” Joel whispered to Sarah, reassuring her as he tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer to him. She tightened her arm around him, her fingertips digging into the back of his neck. "We're safe," he repeated, though this time it served as more of a self-assurance, a reminder to stay calm for her.

Joel’s work boot made a crunching sound as he took a single step toward the lone soldier. Suddenly, his stomach felt as if it was pulled tightly into a knot. Something felt wrong although he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what. Many things at that moment were wrong: a mysterious infection sweeping over the world, people violently assaulting one another for seemingly no reason, the military bombing cities without warning, police barricading roads and highways, and confining helpless citizens within the city limits. Regardless of the chaos around him, Joel's primary focus right now was ensuring Sarah's safety; he had little concern for much else.

Joel lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the light and called out to the soldier, "We need help," speaking with a calm yet urgent tone. The soldier's shoulders tensed as Joel took another step towards him, causing him to hover his finger directly over the trigger. "Please, it's my daughter. I think her leg's broken," he further pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.

"Stop," the soldier commanded, his grip tightening around the semi-automatic, his voice sounding young yet laced with authority. "Stop right there!" With each repetition of his demand, his tone grew more frantic, sending a haunting chill down Joel's spine.

Every muscle in Joel's body stiffened as he abruptly halted his approach. A tinge of confusion washed over him; he had no fucking idea what was going on. All he knew was that his daughter was frightened and in need of medical attention. After all, the military was supposed to assist citizens in times of need, right?

"We're not…sick if that's..." Joel let his sentence trail off, the words melding with the gentle rustling of the brushes in the vacant field. The soldier shifted his weight from one leg to another repeatedly, as if contemplating his course of action. Joel glanced at his daughter, her eyes wide and terrified; his heart sank in his chest.

The soldier lowered his gun, and the flashlight fixed to it illuminated the ground just before Joel's feet. A wave of relief swept over Joel, and he adjusted Sarah in his arms, offering her a reassuring nod. "Got a couple civilians on the outer perimeter. Please advise," the soldier spoke in a hushed tone into the walkie-talkie attached to one of his shoulders. Joel continued to watch him carefully, narrowing his eyes.

"Daddy, what about Uncle Tommy?" Sarah whispered into Joel's ear. Tommy, right. Where the fuck is he? Joel wondered to himself. Taking a sharp inhale through his mouth, he tightened his grip around her knees, contemplating what to tell her.

"We're gonna get you to safety and go back for him. Okay?" He said with the sole intent to keep her as calm as possible. Hoping his answer would suffice, Joel knew Sarah was stubborn and strong-willed, much like himself. If she thought Tommy would be left behind, she would raise absolute hell until all three of them were reunited.

When she still remained silent after a few seconds, Joel tore his gaze from the soldier to Sarah. He immediately noticed the tears welling up in her eyes and the quivering of her chin, despite her efforts to hold back. Eventually, she gave him a few short nods, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Joel ran his thumb over her forearm, trying to offer her some comfort.

"Sir, there’s a little girl." The soldier had been muttering words unintelligible to Joel’s ears, until his last statement. Joel felt as if his heart stopped entirely, the world suddenly going completely still, as if time itself had stopped. The realization hit him that the military was turning their backs on the citizens, his mind racing to determine the next steps. Without a vehicle, Tommy lost in the streets, the sick people, and the surrounding chaos, Joel felt overwhelmed, unsure of what course of action to take. “But… Yes, sir.” The sound of the lone soldier’s voice brought him out of his panicked thoughts.

The soldier swiftly raised his gun again, the light glaring directly into Joel's eyes once more. A sudden rush of intense, varying emotions coursed through his veins as he grasped onto the fact that the military was not just abandoning the citizens; they were actively attempting to eradicate them. It became clear that there would be no reasoning with this soldier.

The soldier brought the butt of the gun up to his shoulder, resting his cheek on the top edge and focusing down its sight. Despite the dim lighting, Joel was able to notice the subtle movement of his arm, knowing that at any moment, he would press down on the trigger. He had to act now; his only hope of protecting Sarah would be using his own body as a shield. "Shit," Joel quickly turned his body, and as soon as his back was turned, gunfire erupted and a bone-chilling shriek came from Sarah.

A rush of heat ignited on the side of Joel’s torso; he’d been hit. As the sensation began to spread, he realized he was actively tumbling down a steep slope towards a ditch, his vision blurring, and rough jagged rocks tore at the exposed skin on his arms. Sarah, where is Sarah, Joel began to panic, unable to recall the exact moment he lost her. It felt like an eternity as his body continued to tumble.

Reaching the bottom of the shallow ditch, his body came to a halt, and his eyes snapped open at the sound of boots approaching, the gravel crunching with each step. His head spun as the soldier hovered over him, the muzzle of the gun pointing directly at his head. Joel outstretched his hand toward the gun. Have some humanity, just walk away, he begged within the confines of his mind. The soldier adjusted his grip on the gun, his finger inching closer to the trigger. Joel could have sworn he saw the soldier’s index finger shaking.

The sound of a single shot made Joel flinch, the world around him going dark. Except he didn’t feel anything; no pain or agony. Within a millisecond of the gunshot, a thud manifested in Joel’s ears, causing him to ease his eyes open. A few feet from where he still lay, the soldier was now face down on the ground, blood streamed out steadily from the side of his head, pooling into a messy puddle on the ground; under the dim light of the moon, it looked black. 

In complete shock, Joel looked to his left, the direction where the shot came from. His eyes widened as Tommy emerged from behind some overgrown brush. Joel loosed a sigh of relief. His brother wore a grim expression, fresh blood splattered across the front of his white undershirt—blood that wasn't there the last time they were together.

The two exchanged a brief glance before Tommy's eyes shifted just beyond Joel. Tommy's face dropped, his chest heaving. "Oh no," the words came out as if he were in disbelief.

Joel followed his gaze to Sarah’s curled up body, immediately crawling toward her. Her whimpers and soft painful sobs filled the air, reverberating in Joel’s ears. His hand hovered over her blood soaked shirt, not sure what to do. How can he fix this? This isn’t how things were supposed to go. His mind went blank the second Sarah’s tear stained eyes locked onto his, voicelessly pleading for him to help her, to take the pain away, to make things better. Sarah knew he was the one who always made her feel better, whether she was sick or sad. 

Looking down at his hand, the warm blood clung to his skin. It became wetter and bloodier by the second. He couldn’t think straight, his own mind betraying him and screaming at him, help her, help her, help her, but not telling him how. The words repeated three times over with a steady, hollow thud. He wanted to vomit, he wanted to scream, he wanted revenge. Oh, how he wanted the world to pay for taking his baby from him. 

Help her, help her, help her, the words manifested in the beat of hollow thuds once again. She clawed at his neck, her nails digging into his flesh as the world around him went black. 

In an instant, she was gone.

Joel's eyes snapped open, fixating on the deteriorating ceiling directly above him. Pain throbbed in his jaw as he clenched his teeth, feeling his neck tighten under the stress. Somewhere within the apartment, a baby faintly cried, serving as the only anchor to the present. He found himself unable to move; his muscles were tensed to the point of paralysis, his mind still holding him captive to the image of his dead daughter. Every time he blinked, he could see the look of pure agony and the loss of innocence in her eyes. Joel's heart continued to pound ferociously, sending a throbbing sensation throughout his entire body.

Little by little, his muscles relaxed. His hand reached out to the other side of the bed, searching for something, someone. The rough skin of his palms caught on the worn fabric that was used as a makeshift sheet, the cold emptiness seeping into his fingertips. He couldn't tell whether he felt relief that no one was there to witness his night terror or if he longed for the comfort of someone's presence.

In a single swift motion, Joel found himself upright, sitting on the edge of the bed, digging his nails into the rotting wood of the broken frame. His breaths were uneven and ragged; other than that, the silence surrounding him amplified the ringing in his ears. With a slow, silent exhale, he rested his face in the palms of his hands, struggling with the residual echoes of the horrors that had played out in his sleep, haunted by the relentless grip of the past that refused to let go.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of someone at the door jolted Joel from the nightmarish thoughts and images that had held him hostage, causing him to redirect his attention to the front door. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of who might be on the other side. No one ever came to him, especially not to his apartment. 

And for the first time in a long time, he felt fear.

Bite The Hand: Chapter One

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