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niningtori · 3 days ago

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the way we were before | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu for as long as you've known him. deep down, you've always thought that he loved you, too; so when he tells you that he's engaged to another woman, you decide to break it all off after a nasty fight in which he shows you just how little you mean to him. a life-ending accident seems to put your feelings to rest, for good. just when you think it's all over, however, you awaken to a time before everything fell apart; and you're determined not to repeat the same mistakes. it's just that beomgyu can't seem to let you go.

genre: ANGST (literally so much angst it's not even funny), romance, second chancelau, rebirthlau, she falls first but he falls harder, possessive!beomgyu

warnings: mcd (and rebirth), somewhat graphic depictions of death/a corpse, suicidal thoughts, you can interpret a scene at the end as somewhat suggestive but not really

word count: 12.7k

notes: this work contains a lot of angst... and that's coming from ME. this might be too sad to the point of being corny but luckily i was born on the cob. don't be mean to me tho i'm going thru it rn. feedback also means the world 2 me <3

some things are a matter of course. for example, when you were initially paired with beomgyu for a project in your senior year of college, it was a matter of course to fall in love with him. supporting him morally and emotionally while he struggled throughout the rest of the year and well into his adult career? well, that was a matter of course, too. being with him every day, spending every spare second you had with the intention to make him happy, and giving up any concept of self-preservation in exchange for even a morsel of his affection? the answer doesn’t even need to be said. through it all, you’ve suspected that all of the intimacy that you’ve nurtured will inevitably end up with you two being together, of course.

you haven’t done any of it for the outcome. truly, you haven't. you make him happy simply because it makes you happy just to see him shine. he’s always been such a bright, sunny boy, and it’s always been enough just to be the one who helps maintain his true personality. it absolutely kills you to see him hurting, so it isn’t unusual to drop everything, be it work or social events, just to give him advice, give him comfort, or even just give him company. while he certainly doesn't show his affection towards you as profusely as you do to him, you know he cares about you. you can see it in the way he notices the little things about you, and in the way he listens to you with full attentiveness, even when you have nothing particularly interesting to tell him. when everyone talks over you, he tells you that he wants to hear what you have to say. and that’s enough.

with all of this in mind, you jump at his invitation to hang out at his apartment. he’s been a little distracted lately, cancelling plans together for reasons unknown. it’s been odd, to be sure, but you know he’ll tell you whatever’s been bothering him soon enough. he always does. you greet him with takeout from his favorite restaurant in tow as a surprise, and he takes it with that smile you love so damn much. he looks a little nervous, but happy, mostly, and you don’t have to wait for very long before he clears his throat and announces that he has something important to tell you.

you try not to get your hopes up, but who can blame you for feeling a hint of anticipation? maybe he’ll finally confess his feelings to you. maybe that’s why he’s been a little weird. naturally, since your mind is racing so much with romantic hypotheticals, of course it comes as a shock to you that he simply says, “i’m getting married.”

beomgyu, notorious for never even having the time nor interest to date around, is not only dating, but engaged. your jaw drops when he tells you that it all happened so quickly, he doesn’t even know how it unfolded. all he knows is that once he met her, a whirlwind romance swept him up, and just a few months have been more than enough for him to know that she’s the one. in fact, as he so fondly declares, he knew it from the very first moment he saw her at the dinner between the company you two work for and her own. the one where you were his “date”. you knew that it wasn’t a real proclamation of love or affection for him to ask you to accompany him, but you can’t say that you weren’t beaming with pride and validation at you being his natural choice. when you arrived at the dinner, you remember some of your coworkers jokingly whispering to you to just make it official already. you spent the night mostly by his side, looking up at him in admiration and love. as it turns out, the time you spent fawning over him was equally spent with him falling in love at first sight with another woman. you weren’t even apart for very long, but apparently he met her when you two broke apart to mingle.

it’s a kick in the chest, to put it bluntly. you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs, and you’re struggling to breathe. the first time you caught a glimpse of him, you knew that any attempts to stop yourself from falling in love with him were hopeless. his smile, his charm, his playfulness immediately had you enraptured. you’ve always, always known that he didn't have a similar experience with you, but you just assumed that he simply isn’t the type to be caught up in such childish romanticism. you've always loved him outwardly and persistently, and you've shown him that in every single way you possibly know how. you dared to hope that maybe he was just the type to quietly reciprocate. obviously, with how emphatically he’s professing his love for another woman, you were very, very wrong.

“what's the matter? aren't you happy for me?” you struggle to answer, but he continues as if he doesn’t notice. “you know, i was thinking you could be, like, my best man. i've seen people do it these days—you'd pretty much be my best woman. i really want you to do it. there's no one else i can think of to—well, actually, there's soobin, but you’re my—”

“beomgyu,” you sharply interrupt, wetness pooling in your waterlines. beomgyu may be a little emotionally slow, but he’s not stupid. you know he knows that you've had feelings for him since forever ago. while it hurts, the fact of them being unrequited isn't what really gets you; it’s the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to just tell the truth. he took advantage of your love for him, always calling for you when he needed you, without ever really doing the same for you. “what… what about us?”

“what about us? you’re my best friend, and i want you to be part of my wedding,” he says smoothly, but you level him with a watery stare. as if realization finally dawns on him, he replies in a way you sincerely did not anticipate.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” he chuckles with a wave of his hand, and you really would’ve rathered him say literally anything else. you’d prefer it if he had just punched you in the stomach, actually, because that would feel considerably better than this… this humiliation. you’re silent for a moment before you feel the tears you’ve been struggling to keep in cascade down your face. to his credit, he has the decency to look uncomfortable, and his playful smile drops. before he can reply, however, you speak again.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me,“ you declare. “if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.”

“listen, i’m sorry that you’re hurt, but i really didn’t mean—”

“are you really sorry that i’m hurt, or are you sorry that i showed you i’m hurt?” you cut in. “beomgyu, you don’t care about how i feel, just as long as you don’t have to be the one to deal with it.”

“i’m—you're being unfair. i didn't want to hurt your feelings, i just wanted us to stay friends. what's so bad about that? don't you want that?” he seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can't wrap his head around why you'd ever be indignant at the fact that he stayed friends with you mainly for his own comfort.

“jesus christ, beomgyu! a real friend would never do this. you kept me around so i’d keep helping you with work, with life, with what the fuck ever. why can't you just be honest, after all this time? just don’t lie,” you spit.

“i'm not lying! you've helped me a lot, and i'm grateful for that, but you can't expect me to just owe you my feelings,” he snaps.

“that's not what this is about, and you know it,” you tremblingly reply, dignity cut right to the bone.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” your eyes burn with an intensity so great, it feels like they're being seared out of your skull. in this moment, you realize that he will never, ever respect you enough to consider you worthy of being leveled with. he doesn't think you're even worth the time. you're his silly, lovesick best friend who's absolutely delusional to the point of being laughable for suggesting that he actually take you seriously, for once. and that revelation breaks you like nothing else.

you won’t do this anymore. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and you don’t.

“i never want to see you again,” you sob, and while it may seem juvenile to say, you truly mean it. before you can hear beomgyu reply, you dash out of the building and to your car.

everything is a blur when you peel out of the parking lot and onto the road. your eyes are pouring out thick, hot tears, and you try your best to swipe them away as soon as they come, but it’s difficult when they’re seemingly endless. you don’t even attempt to hold in your sobs—they’re far too deep and frequent for that. if someone were to glance at you through their window, they’d think you were absolutely insane. and maybe you are, you don’t know. maybe you’re insane for thinking that things could’ve ever been any different. maybe you were just imagining everything that seemed like confirmation that he loved you back. maybe it was all a delusion because you wanted it so fucking badly. and maybe that’s your fault.

but did he really have to crush you like this? he knew you were in in love with him. he knew you were waiting for him. he knew what he meant to you. why couldn’t he have just been honest instead of stringing you along? to ask for him to return your feelings would’ve been too much, you've always understood that to be the case; but even to the bitter end, he’ll call you crazy before he tells you the truth.

you try to keep yourself focused, but everything’s a blur with your eyes bleary with a film of tears. you have half a mind to just pull over and have a meltdown on the side of the road, but before you can do that, you hear your phone ringing. you pick it up in a frenzy, silently hoping that it’s beomgyu with an apology, but the number is unknown. you don’t even have time to feel disappointed before you look up and see that you’re barrelling past a red light. in a panic, you realize that you’re about to crash headfirst into another car. you swerve your steering wheel as hard as you can, seemingly avoiding danger, but the sight of a tree coming closer and closer into your vision paralyzes you with fear. you try to brake, but you’re going too quickly for it to be of any use.

the collision is bone-shattering in the literal sense. you’d think you’d feel adrenaline alone in such a situation, but you can feel pain bursting out of every cell of your body as you still after being thrown back and forth in your seat. every organ, every bone, feels like it’s just been crushed, and not for the first time today, you’re struggling to breathe.

as you slip out of consciousness, one immovable thought resounds in your head: i wish i'd never met him.

the sound of your alarm ringing pulls you out of the darkness. your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up in pure shock. while you pant—just trying to catch your breath—you grab your chest, clutching at your shirt as you feel your heart drumming erratically. did you survive? you scramble out of your bed and look in the mirror. there’s nothing on your face. no fresh wounds, bruises, no scars from what just happened. that can’t be right. you know you were torn up from the collision, and there’s no earthly way you came out of it unscathed. was it a dream? it can’t be; you can still feel the phantom of pain on every inch of you, even when there’s no indication of any material harm. you remember every second you spent before and after wrapping yourself around that tree. does that mean you’re dead? are you in the afterlife?

that doesn’t seem right, either. you don’t know much about what the afterlife is supposed to be like, if there’s even one at all, but this feels too real and familiar. you reach for your phone, with its alarm still blaring, and as you hit snooze, you notice the date. it’s just a few months before… before everything happened. did you go back in time? is that even possible? you try to reconcile yourself with that fact for a long, long time. so long, in fact, that you don't even realize you're supposed to be heading to work until it's five minutes after you're supposed to be there.

as if on cue, your phone rings with your boss’ contact displayed on the screen.

“hello,” he says as casually as anyone ever can. this just solidifies the idea that your accident must never have happened, because if it had, he certainly wouldn’t be greeting you as if it’s just another day.

“h-hey,” you attempt to reply, and your voice is so choked and thick with emotion, he can hear how badly you’re struggling to speak at all.

“is everything alright?” he asks, concern laced in his tone. that’s enough to make you break, and before you can stop it, you’re outright sobbing into the phone.

“i’m—i just—i don’t think i can come in today.” you fumble for an excuse, but it’s difficult to think straight as you feel your mind breaking down. “i, um, i—”

“hey, it’s okay. you can take the day off, alright? don’t worry about anything, just focus on feeling better.” his words, so comforting in nature, do nothing but make you cry even harder. it feels nice to be cared for like this. if you had the coherence to think so, you’d wonder how baffled he must be at your behavior. luckily, you’re far too gone to care. you think you end up stammering out something similar to a thank you, but you’re not quite sure. either way, the call ends, and you collapse onto your bed. you curl yourself up and tuck your knees to your chest as you grip yourself as tightly as you can. this is real. you’ve gone back. thank god, you’ve gone back.

you cry and cry until no more tears will come out, and while you try to keep yourself awake as the hours pass by, the relief you feel coalesces with the enticing nature of your soft bed, so you can't help but drift off. it’s different from the way you drifted off mere hours ago. it’s a lot warmer and kinder, and you're so, so fucking tired, you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

a knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. it’s a good thing, too, because you were having a nightmare. rejection, devastation, primal fear, mind-numbing pain, then total darkness repeated incessantly in your head for hours on end. you swipe away your tears, but they continue to flow as you practically drag yourself to your door. you’re so disoriented, you don’t even think to check to see who it is before opening it. what a mistake that turns out to be.

“hey! whoa—are you okay?” he asks, and who else could it be besides beomgyu? your heart pounds in your chest, and even more tears stream down your face as you let out a sob. his mouth contorts into a frown. his face, previously so endearing to you, makes you feel absolutely repulsed. you lost everything for the figure standing before you, and he has the nerve to ask you if you’re okay. a fire is ignited in your stomach, and you feel yourself on the precipice of carnal rage. while you’re trying to suppress that feeling, he speaks again.

“i heard you called in, so i thought i’d check on you. do you have a fever?” he questions, reaching out his hand to check your forehead for abnormal warmth. without even thinking about it, you smack his hand away.

“don’t touch me,” you all but growl, but beomgyu is undeterred.

“what’s the matter? i don’t care if you get me sick; i could use the time off,” he teases with a grin, but your face remains twisted up in pure anger.

“get out,” you mumble between clenched teeth.

“what?” he asks, and it's unclear if that's because he's confused, or because he simply didn't hear you. either way, you don't care.

“get out,” you repeat, louder this time, but not lacking any of the previous anger. your erratic behavior is enough to finally irritate beomgyu.

“fine, whatever. forget i even bothered,” he scoffs as he stalks out of the door. you slam it behind him before falling to the floor. this is your chance. you came back too late to avoid ever meeting him again, but it’s still good enough for you. from now on, you two will live completely separate lives spent being nothing to each other. owing nothing to each other. again, you find yourself sobbing in relief.

when you return to work the next day, the first thing you do is head to your boss’ office. he looks relieved to see you for a moment before he notices the envelope in your hand. with the way his smile drops, you know he immediately knows what it is.

“what’s that?” he asks, though the tension in the air is more than enough confirmation that he has no doubts about what the letter reads.

“my resignation,” you tell him.

“may i ask what this is about?” he probes. no, he can’t, because even if you told him, he’d never believe you.

“i just don’t think this position is right for me,” you deadpan, and the look on his face shows that he doesn’t really buy it.

“you’ve worked so hard for so long, and you want to give up now?” he has a point. your company is on the brink of a major deal with another company, which will result in a financial breakthrough like none other, if successful. as fate would have it, said company is the one in which beomgyu’s future wife works, and the dinner where the two of them met is the celebratory party for such success. you’d laugh at the circumstances if you could. “whatever the issue is, we can work it out. just don’t leave before we do this. we need you, and even if you want to leave after we close the deal, you’ll still be rewarded for everything you’ve done. don’t you want to see that happen?” you do. you really, really do. you’ve given so much of yourself for this opportunity, and you really want to see it work out. you guess, in a way, you already have seen it; but if you leave now, that’ll never happen. this particular project needs you to get off of its feet.

but can you really stand to see beomgyu for a second longer? have his mere presence fuck with your head? is it even worth it? you’re about to declare that it most certainly is not, but you stop yourself. the money will be good for you to start a new life. maybe you’ll move buildings, maybe even to a new city, maybe across the country, who knows? you’ll be more than comfortable with this potential payout, and then you can start a new life somewhere where you know nobody, and nobody knows you.

“i want a new partner, at least,” you counter, and his face morphs into a grimace. he’s undoubtedly confused at your sudden aversion towards beomgyu, but he doesn't mention it to you.

“that’ll be difficult. i need you both for this to work.” you’re about to flatout deny him, but he continues. “if you can just make it through this, i promise that you can go wherever you want to go, and i’ll even give you a bonus for your trouble. deal?” you purse your lips as you mull it over. if you can suffer through being partners with beomgyu, your move will be considerably easier. still, you’re undecided before you have an epiphany: in just a few months, beomgyu will meet his future wife and fall head over heels in love with her. all you have to do is ignore him until then, and he’ll inevitably leave you alone once he meets her. so what if beomgyu’s here? you don’t want to care about him anymore. and once everything’s settled, you’ll pack your life away and start somewhere without the bad memories.

“okay,” you reply, and his face breaks out into a grin.

beomgyu is very visibly ruffled today, which you would immediately notice if you just spared him a glance, but you do no such thing. your lack of attention towards him serves to only rile him up even further. he wants to be stubborn—act out until you apologize to him, but once he realizes you have no intention of doing so, he finally relents and approaches you.

“hey,” he says coolly, still a little annoyed, but prepared to forgive you. you look up at him blankly, and he’s unsettled by just how empty your eyes look, so he nervously asks you, “are you… are you feeling better?” you look at him as if he just spouted the most asinine question of all time, and for the first time ever, he feels small under your gaze. he shifts awkwardly on his feet before you break the silence.

“i’m fine,” you tell him. he waits for you to ask him how he is, but the words never come. in fact, you turn away and bury your nose in your work as if he’s not standing there, waiting dumbly for you to respond as you usually would. well, whatever. you’ll have to talk to him, eventually. especially since you two are working on such a big project.

you don’t really talk to him, though, aside from what’s absolutely necessary. for most of the day, you silently slide papers over to him without even deigning to look at him while you do it. when you do have to speak to him, your words are cold and detached, as if even speaking to him is a chore. it’s like you’re looking past him, almost. like you don’t even really see him, and he’s never felt as unsettled by a gaze in his life.

at lunch, you quietly remain at your desk instead of joining beomgyu like you usually would, and you can't quite bring yourself to eat. you just feel sick by this entire situation, and while you know you need food to survive, you’re sure you’ll vomit if you try to eat anything.

beomgyu, on his part, leaves you alone, though he desperately wants to try to get you to eat with him. he won’t admit it, but he’s actually afraid that you’ll reject him again. he doesn't know why, but the thought of you doing so slashes at his heart. this is a mystery to him. he shouldn’t really care if you reject him or not, since he’s been quietly rejecting you for years, but he can’t help it. still, as he watches you space out at your desk, he tries to will himself to bear the brunt of a possible denial before a coworker he recognizes approaches you.

you don’t even notice mingi walking up to you, so you jump in surprise when he greets you. you’re pretty familiar with him, but you’re not particularly close, so you’re a bit surprised by his arrival.

“can i sit with you?” he asks, grinning as he asks it. you nod in response, and he grins even wider before he pulls up a chair and seats himself in front of you.

“are you going to eat?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“not hungry,” you reply. he frowns.

“you still need to eat. you need energy, especially since you’re working so hard.” you’re actually a little sheepish because of his words. so he’s noticed how hard you’ve been working? it feels nice to be appreciated. is he worried about you?

“i’ll eat later,” you lie. he seems a bit reluctant, but he eventually nods.

“make sure you eat, okay? i’ll—i’ll text you and make sure you have. is that alright?” you’re stunned for a few seconds before agreeing, and he ends up sliding you his phone so you can put your number in it.

beomgyu watches it all from his desk, and he feels a sense of loss. is it because you’re directing your attention elsewhere? that has to be it, right? it can't be any deeper than that, but somewhere nearly unreachable inside of him, he feels an unfamiliar sensation scratching at his heart, begging him to acknowledge it. but he shakes away the thought. you’re acting really weird, but that’s okay. you love him, and you’ll get back to normal really soon.

that’s what he tells himself, but you remain as cold as ever throughout the rest of the week. you don’t look at him with those adoring eyes, and you don’t even crack a smile at his attempted jokes. he feels like he's going insane, as if he's on the brink of understanding something really important, but he can't quite make it there.

it all comes to a head when beomgyu shows up late back from grabbing lunch. he's done this a million times before, and he's always been greeted by your insistence that his tardiness isn't a big deal. in spite of the tension between you two, he still assumes that you'll be as forgiving as ever.

“hey, sorry i'm late. i got caught up with eating and didn't realize how late it was getting,” he says casually. he searches your face for any traces of leniency, for the indulgence you used to give him, but there is none. only anger, and maybe even something like regret, though he can't quite understand the latter.

“don't be late again. we don't have time for this,” you say coldly before sticking your nose back into your computer, effectively ignoring anything else beomgyu could say to placate you.

you two work late into the night. beomgyu gets so caught up in his work, too afraid to draw your ire again, but when he realizes he hasn't heard any noise coming from you in a while, he peers over to see you staring blankly at the wall. your face seems expressionless, but your eyes are what horrifies him. dead, empty, hopeless. “a-are you okay?”

the sound of his voice does nothing to break you out of your trance, however. in fact, it seems to have triggered something in you, decimated a dam that was already leaking. your eyes still look blank as tears begin to leak out of your eyes. they fall slowly at first, then incessantly. it's hard to reconcile the steady stream with the way your face remains completely devoid of emotion.

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. suddenly, you're jolted awake, eyes now looking as composed and indifferent as ever.

“are you okay? w-what's wrong?” he asks anxiously,

you hurriedly wipe away your tears before you say, “nothing. just thinking about something.” you redirect your attention to your work, just trying to fully shake the way you were just locked into the memory of you dying alone.

“what could you possibly be thinking about to make you look like that?” he asks concernedly, his voice unintentionally rising in frustration. your eyes harden before you turn to him.

“none of your business,” you say firmly. before he can say anything, you're packing up your things. “i'm going to call it a night and go home.”

“wait! talk to me! what's been bothering you so much lately? you've been weird for a while now, so just tell me what's going on with you. i'm here. i'm listening,” he says as gently as he can.

“you're here? you're listening?” you sneer. “i'm so honored that you finally give a fuck about how i'm feeling,” you say sarcastically. he frowns at your words.

“what are you talking about? i'm always here for you,” he says, and he looks so genuine, it makes you even angrier. he sincerely thinks he's telling the truth. so fucking clueless and selfish.

“are you? do you think offering up your ear once in a blue moon makes you an altruistic angel or something?” you know he can't understand that you're throwing his own words back in his face, because he can't even remember saying them, but you don't care. it just feels too damn vindicating to stop yourself. “beomgyu, you're only as available to me as is convenient to you. you'd never put yourself out of your way to comfort me. meanwhile, i've always been ‘here’ and ‘listening’ at your will. i don't need your pity, and i certainly don't want it.” he's stunned into silence. you're absolutely correct, he realizes with a sinking feeling. before he can formulate the words to defend himself, you pack up your things and leave the office.

in the following weeks, you realize that mingi is… nice. really, really nice. you’re not used to prospective romantic partners actually seeming to like you, so the feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. do you have feelings for him outside of appreciation? well, not really. in the back of your mind, you honestly doubt that you’re even capable of having feelings for other people anymore, but you try not to think about it too much. if you seriously search for an answer, you fear you won’t like what you find.

mingi is diligent, though, and you like that about him. now that you’ve made it clear that you’re not involved with beomgyu (and never want to be), he’s pulling out all the stops to charm you. lunches you would previously spend with beomgyu are now spent laughing with mingi. in the same way, downtime at work, which would normally entail catching up with beomgyu and maybe helping with a few of his assignments, are now reserved for chats with mingi. as beomgyu watches you two giggle with your heads together, he wonders what you two could possibly be talking about to ever be that funny. his jaw ticks in irritation at the scene. most notably, though, is the fact that instead of spending your off days with him, you flatout reject him with no explanation. not even with a perfunctory “sorry”. he doesn't have to wonder what you’ve been doing when he hears your coworkers gossiping about how you're always hanging out with mingi.

beomgyu feels you slipping away, and it brings a sense of panic he’s never known before. but why? he shouldn't care about your romantic endeavors. granted, you haven’t had one during the entire time that you've known him, but it’s only natural that he supports you as your best friend. best friend. does that term even apply to him anymore? he wants to insist that it does, but as the weeks turn into months, your disgust for him becomes clearer and clearer. as he sits across from you and mingi at an after-work dinner with your department, he watches as mingi flirtatiously whispers into your ear. when some of your coworkers tease the two of you about it, he realizes with sickening certainty that he doesn't just want to be your best friend, he wants to be the one who sits next to you. he wants to be the one your coworkers joke about being your boyfriend, and he wants them to be right about it. the time you two have spent apart has shown him that he can't imagine anyone else occupying the space beside you. with an overwhelming sense of clarity, beomgyu realizes that this feeling, so deep and all-consuming, is love.

how could he not love you? regardless of everything you've done for him, you're still so perfect to him, for him. he finds himself appreciating things he previously took for granted. you're beautiful, caring, funny, and smart. he loves your smile, your laugh, your company. he loves the way you look when you're focused, the way you look so innocent when you sleep. you're the first person he wants to tell any time something happens, good or bad. you're the face he wants to wake up to in the morning. you're the only person he trusts to be his partner for the rest of his life. and now, it's clear that he can't just let you go without a fight.

as everyone begins to leave the restaurant one by one, he follows you out into the parking lot, determined to make his feelings known. even if you don't reciprocate them anymore, he's willing to put in the effort to make you love him again. and even if you don't… even if you can't… the desire to simply be next to you supersedes the need to be loved back.

you don't realize that beomgyu is trailing after you until you get to your car. he calls out your name as you're about to pull the door handle. with a sigh, you turn around.

“what is it?” you ask flatly.

“are you serious about mingi?” he asks firmly, but he already knows that you are not. the way you look at mingi is laughable compared to the way you looked at beomgyu before your sudden change in behavior.

“yep,” you say.

“no, you're not. i can tell,” he argues with conviction.

“oh, and you know me so fucking well, huh?” you snark.

“i do,” he tells you, stepping closer. “i know you, and i know you don't really like him. not really.” damn. he caught you.

“just because i don’t like him now, doesn't mean i can’t like him later,” you insist.

“so what? you’re just going to string him along while hoping you’ll like him someday? are you just going to spend the rest of your life never really caring about anyone? you can't live like that.” his words leave no room for argument, but you’ll be damned before you don't at least try.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t lead him on, but what’s it matter to you? even if it doesn't work out with him, maybe i’ll meet somebody who i can tolerate, and who can tolerate me. i don’t think i need anything more than that.” beomgyu flinches at your bizarre words, but he's already reconciled with the idea that even if you don't want him anymore, he'll still take whatever you want to give him with a smile on his face.

“then what about me? i… i can be that person.” he's so nervous, you can tell that it took all of his courage to say that. but who cares?

“you can’t,” you argue.

“why not?”

“that would mean i’d have to be able to tolerate you, and i don’t want to do that.” not anymore.

“why are you acting like this? you’re acting like i’m so fucking horrible, but you used to lo—” he stops himself, but you both know he was going to bring up the love you had for him. “i just want to know what changed.”

“i did. i changed.”

“but why? i mean, i didn’t realize it before, and i know i wasn’t always the best, but i’ve always had feelings for y—”

“don’t even bother finishing that sentence. you don't like me at all,” you sneer, “you just don’t like seeing me move on.” this makes him pause, and even you don’t have the heart to pretend like you can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“why can’t you ever just believe me?” he asks quietly. “i’m telling you i love you, but you don’t even care. i’m saying that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but you’re acting like… like i'm disgusting to you.” he looks like he's about to cry, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“you don’t understand,” you reply in between clenched teeth.

“then help me understand. i just want to know why. i just want to know how to fix it. how can i bring you back?”

“you can't. look, i’m—” and you’re about to apologize, but you just can’t make yourself do it. “you’ll get it really, really soon. you won’t even remember feeling this way, i can promise you that, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“what are you talking about?” he says exasperatedly. beomgyu may not have always been the best of friends towards you, but he can recognize when you’re holding yourself back. “what aren't you telling me?” you purse your lips in response.

“nothing. there's no point in saying anything, because you wouldn't understand even if you tried. you wouldn't remember—fuck, never mind. just let it go, beomgyu. i have.” but he can't just let it go. this whole fucking thing as an enigma to him. but your words are… odd. what do you mean he wouldn't remember? there's nothing to remember, no matter how much he tries. before he can respond, you get into your car and drive away.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” beomgyu tells you, forcing an awkward laugh. your expression immediately crumbles, and he begins to shift uncomfortably when he realizes that he must’ve said the wrong thing. your silence is deafening, ringing in his ears, but he still tries to maintain a smile. maybe you’ll lighten up. maybe you’ll go back to the way you were before. maybe you’ll even crack at smile at this ridiculous situation when you realize that he’s right in his assumption that you’re just being emotional. your feelings for him can only go so deep, right? you can go back to being friends after this, just the way he likes it.

his smile is wiped clean off of his face when your eyes redden and well up in pure, unadulterated hurt. hurt he’s never seen before. he fumbles for the right words, but before he can find them, you break the suffocating silence.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me. if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.” any delusions beomgyu has that you’ll just let this go are promptly flushed away at your biting tone. jesus christ. you’re right, and he knows it. he flounders for a response, but nothing he can possibly say could really be enough.

he spends the duration of the argument mainly trying to defend himself. honestly? he doesn't want to remember everything you two say, but he knows he's being nasty in an effort to keep himself from reconciling with the fact that he is, indeed, a coward. he knows he’s never been the greatest friend to you, though he’s always justified it by recalling the times where he did do thoughtful things for you. when you tell him that your resentment isn’t about the fact that he doesn't feel the same way, but because of the fact that he won’t own up to his actions, he feels a stab to his pride. before he can stop himself, he lashes out.

“i never want to see you again,” you choke out between sobs, and he feels a piercing pain shoot through his body, all the way down to his bones. you don’t mean that. there’s no way you mean that. you care about him. you love him, and even if he doesn't feel quite the same way, he loves you, too. but one look at your resolute face is enough to tell him that you mean it. he wills himself to say something—anything—but you rush out of the door before he can quite muster up the courage to speak.

he stands in a stunned silence for longer than he could ever rightfully justify, but a call from an unfamiliar number eventually pulls him out of his daze. usually, he’d reject it and chalk it up to spam, but something tells him that he should—needs to—answer it. with shaky hands, he accepts the call.

“h-hello?”

the response mostly sounds rather clinical in nature, really. there’s a perfunctory greeting before the monotone voice detachedly states that there’s been an accident, and he will need to come to the coroner’s office to accurately identify the corpse, which had been declared deceased at the scene. as it turns out, he was your first emergency contact.

“we are deeply, deeply sorry.” the final words are the only ones that seem to hold any hint of an emotion in them, but beomgyu is too preoccupied to hear it. in a daze, he gets in his car and makes his way to the coroner’s office. hoping, praying, needing for this to be a bad dream. as he comes to find out, it is not.

beomgyu’s head whips up in horror, and he’s panting like mad in between whimpers. tears incessantly pour out of his eyes, wetting his flushed cheeks. was it all a dream? there’s no way; it was too real to be a dream. he was there—he lived it. no, no, no…

“beomgyu?” a voice says, somewhat breaking him out of his panic. his bleary eyes snap up to the doorway to see you standing there, your eyebrows knit with concern and confusion. you two have been working late again, awkwardly alone together once more after his confession. you saw that he had fallen asleep, but he looked so tired, you couldn't bring yourself to wake him up. “are… are you okay?” he's absolutely frozen as you tentatively approach him, pausing a bit uncertainly before approaching him to get a closer look. he grabs you and tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in an almost bruising grip. he nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent in between shudders.

“beomgyu, are you sick? did you have a bad dream?” you ask. his heart would flutter at your concern, concern you haven’t shown him for so long, in any other context; but as it is, he’s far too distraught to appreciate it.

“i… i remember,” he croaks, trying to get even closer to you, as if doing so is the only way to keep you safe. you’d like to break out of his embrace, but he’s so distraught while you’re so off-guard, you don’t do it just yet.

“remember what? something about the project? we can—”

“no. i’m—i remember… i remember losing you.” he can’t quite bring himself to be any clearer, but you seem to understand him, anyway. you stiffen in his arms before prying him off of you. he fumbles for you, just to touch you again, but you push him away. you exert very little force, but it’s firm and unrelenting.

“oh,” you reply, looking a little lost, but mostly just cold. he's basically wailing now, but he tries his best to answer.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry. i didn’t—”

“what, you didn’t mean to? you’re sorry? maybe so, but does it matter?” you cut in, almost snarling. now that he remembers, all of the feelings, all of the resentment you’ve kept bottled up come tumbling out of your mouth. “what's the point in telling me this now, after everything? you’re not sorry, beomgyu. you only care because i’m—because i was gone. i don’t want to hear about your regrets; they’re worthless to me.” he recoils as if you just punched him. his eyes turn even redder than they were before, too, and he’s silent at your words.

he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, because he really is sorry, but can he truthfully say that he’d realize his feelings if you didn’t… go? he can’t. for all he knows, he’d have rejected you forever. he's so ashamed, he'd rather die than feel this way. even so, he wants to attempt to explain himself; you deserve that much. before he can reply, however, you rise and stalk towards the doorway. it’s reminiscent of the way you left when everything happened, and he desperately tries to follow you, grabbing your arm before you can make it out the door.

“don’t touch me. don’t you ever touch me,” you seethe, ripping yourself out of his grip as if the mere feeling of his hands on you burns through your skin, and he staggers backwards. he keeps his arm somewhat outstretched, though. just in case you change your mind.

“don’t leave like this. i-i don’t want you to get hurt.” not again.

“what’s it matter to you?” you sneer. “you didn’t care before, so i won’t waste my life on you ever again.” his eyes widen in terror, and tears fall even more profusely than they already were. you begin to leave, but to your regret—and to his anguish, the angriest part of you forces you to turn around and face him again.

“do you want to know what my last thought was?” you ask, face mostly blank besides the slight traces of disdain in your eyes, and he’s too terrified to move or even speak at all. he knows whatever you say will be something that breaks him, so he tries to shrink himself to be as small as possible; subconsciously praying that doing so will make him disappear in the face of your anger. still, your eyes remain locked on his face—narrowing in on him regardless of his efforts. “it was of you, actually. i was wishing i’d never met you.” he visibly flinches as he gasps sharply, feeling like you just knocked the air out of his lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe. it would have felt better if you had just ripped his heart out of his chest, because as it is, it’s aching so badly, he wishes you had.

his lips tremble, and he looks like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. and he has. you hate him that much? you regret all of the time you had together to the point of wishing it had never happened? he’s never, ever regretted a moment he’s spent with you, but he guesses your company has always been better than his. how could it not be? you’ve always given him more than he could ever reasonably ask for, and even if you hadn’t, you’re still a much better person than he is. better to the extent of making him realize just how unworthy he is.

he lets you leave, but his anxiety makes him frantically pace about the room. he tugs at his hair, willing himself to calm down, but he just can’t. after a few minutes, he texts you and asks if you made it home. to his relief, it says that you’ve read the message, so he knows you must be okay. still, you don’t respond.

the deal is tied up exceptionally smoothly; you’ve done it before, after all, so that comes as no surprise. on the night of the celebratory dinner, you take mingi as your date. you’ve already told him that you don’t see things panning out, but he actually takes it really well. maybe telling him that you’re planning on moving helped smooth things over. still, he insists that you accompany him to the dinner, just as friends. you oblige.

it’s mostly the same as you remember. you spend the night mixing with your coworkers for the last time, and it’s bittersweet. they don’t know that this will be the last time you see them, as your two weeks before resignation have already passed in secret, and you’ll spend the next few weeks just packing and finding a new place to stay far, far away from here. it’s freeing, in a way.

at some point, your manager announces that he’ll be making a toast, and the room quiets as everyone’s attention is placed on him.

“firstly, i’d like to celebrate the success of this collaboration. everyone has worked hard to make everything come to fruition. secondly, i’d like to recognize two of the people who made this possible.” he specially thanks you and beomgyu, which is normal, but the unexpected happens when he voices his regret that you’ll be resigning.

your coworkers look at you in shock, but one person in particular is especially stunned. beomgyu. your manager probably thanks employees of the other company, too, but he doesn’t hear it. other voices, other people, are drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. you’re leaving, and it's all because of him.

he tries to drown his feelings in alcohol, stomach burning with every round, but the regret never seems to numb. the room seems to be spinning, and he looks visibly ill. eventually, a familiar figure takes a seat next to him. ah. his previous fiancée.

“hey,” she says, somewhat coyly. he doesn't respond. “wow, are you okay? you look a little green. how are you getting home?” again, he doesn't respond. she actually appears to be embarrassed, but she tries one more time.

“i actually—i came over here because you're really… cute. if you don't have a way home, i can take you. i won't try anything on you, but i can't just let you go home alone. and maybe, you know, when you're sober, we can—”

“beat it,” he snaps. he knows it’s not her fault, and that she hasn’t done anything, but he still can’t help his resentment, even when it should all be directed towards himself. but his recognition of his unfairness isn’t enough for him to care. she blinks in surprise and embarrassment, rising from her seat in defeat.

beomgyu continues to drink until he’s on the verge of passing out, putting his face in his hands. he draws attention from everyone, but he doesn’t have the mind to care. people try to approach him, but he flatly rejects everyone who attempts to offer their help in order to ensure that he gets home safely.

“should you… should you take him home?” mingi asks. it’s obvious who he’s referring to.

“it’s not my problem,” you reply, a bit more curtly than you intended.

“you’re right, it’s not. but you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and i think you know that.” mingi argues. you sigh. he’s right. as much as you want to blame beomgyu for everything, you’ve come to realize that after the conversation—more like confrontation—you two had, you’re not angry anymore. it was hard to see in the moment, but you’ve begun to question your merciless stance towards him. isn’t it partially your fault that things turned out the way they did? he didn't make you check your phone that day, so isn’t it unfair to completely blame him for everything?

with this in mind, you approach him. he initially bats you away, assuming you’re just another one of his coworkers, but your voice pulls him out of his drunken stupor.

“c’mon. i’ll take you home.” his head whips up in surprise, and he almost thinks you’re joking, but your face is completely serious.

“o-okay,” he replies, sounding extremely docile. you don’t respond, but you begin to walk ahead of him as you head to the exit. he’s having a hard time even following you as he clumsily staggers through the crowd, following you like a lost puppy. hesitantly, he reaches out for your hand, though the fear of you telling him not to touch you remains. you turn back to see his fingers hesitantly outstretched to your hand, and with a look of resignation, you let him grab it as you lead him out.

the ride to his home is a silent one. beomgyu rests his head upon the cold window as he stares at the scenery outside. he doesn’t really take anything in, far too dazed to appreciate the view, but he looks, anyway.

when you enter his apartment, begrudgingly letting him lean on you for support, you take him to his bedroom. he plops down onto his bed in an unnaturally clumsy manner.

“th-thanks for taking me home,” he says meekly.

“mm,” you reply, no inflection of emotion in your tone, getting ready to leave and head to your apartment.

“w-wait! can you… can you stay here tonight?” you look at him doubtfully, but before you can resolutely deny him, he begins to retch. with widened eyes, you pull him up and drag him to his bathroom. he hunches over the toilet and lets everything go. he’s trembling after he’s finished, and you clean him up as best as you can. he melts into your touch as you gently wipe his face. you’re not soothing him with your words like you would’ve a few months ago, but your care, no matter how unwilling you seem to give it, is something he revels in. he brushes his teeth, but he keeps his eyes on your pensive reflection in the mirror. after he's finished, you speak.

“i’ll stay,” you tell him.

“w-what?” he questions, eyes watery.

“i’ll stay for tonight. i’ll take the couch. i just don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling like this. it’s dangerous.”

“n-no! you can stay in the guest room.”

“i need to be able to hear you if something happens,” you argue.

“th-then i’ll sleep on the couch. i don’t want you to—”

“beomgyu, you need to properly rest. if you don’t sleep in your room, i’ll leave.” his face crumbles before he acquiesces with a strained nod.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a smile at his blind obedience, but he's too drunk to notice it. if he had, he would’ve clung to it like a man drowning.

“thank you,” he solemnly whispers.

“goodnight, beomgyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you rifle through his drawer for some clothes before heading to his living room and changing. you pull out spare blankets from his linen closet before sliding onto his couch.

you sleep rather peacefully, but beomgyu has no such luck. instead, he's pulled into a dream—one he comes to realize is a memory.

when beomgyu arrives at the coroner’s office, there is a moment, albeit brief, that he sickly hopes that it’s literally anyone else in the world, but when he sees you—body mangled nearly beyond recognition—he realizes that there is no such mercy. apparently, you didn't even die on impact, but by the time somebody reached you, you were already gone. he doesn't want to imagine how you must've felt, being alone in your last moments, but he feels like he should. against the warnings of the coroner and surrounding police officers, he demands for your face to be uncovered. he can surely identify you based on frame and clothing alone, but for reasons he doesn’t dare to dwell on, he feels like he just has to see. he just has to be sure. he just has to know what he did to you.

and he does come to know it. to his eternal regret, he begins to know it at that moment, and consequently, every moment after. as it turns out, they suspect that you were looking at your phone before you swerved off of the road. he doesn’t know how, but he’s instinctively sure that it’s because you were waiting on his call. one resounding thought thrums incessantly in his head: it’s all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

your face is bloody, barely even showing any of the underlying skin, and marred from shattered glass. he swallows thickly as he reaches out to touch you, running his hands over the gashes on your face as softly as he can as to avoid hurting you, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s at all possible for him to tend to your wounds. he would go over single one, softly patching you up back to normal; but you're already cold to the touch, and though you definitely can’t feel anything, his mind imagines how much it must hurt to have him caress the gaping wounds on your face. he snatches back his hand, as if his touch is poison to you.

“s-sorry, i’m really sorry!” he panickedly exclaims. “i-i won’t—i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s unsure if he means that in the current physical or the previous emotional sense, but does that really matter? he already has. besides, you can’t feel anything anymore. all of your muscles are relaxed, leaving you devoid of any expression as your eyes hollowly stare up at the ceiling. for a moment, he wishes the hurt he saw in them a mere hour ago was still there. anything would be better than the current blankness of your features.

the blankness remains, however, even after all of the makeup and superficial repairs done to make you look like you’re only peacefully asleep. to him, you just look dead, no matter how badly he wishes the former were the case. as much as he wants to speak at your funeral, he does not. he doesn't deserve the dignity to speak, much less to properly mourn you. not after what he said to you. not when everything that's happened is all his fault.

the breakup with his girlfriend—or fiancée—is more bothersome than he can handle. in between her pleas and attempts to reason, all he can do is coolly recite the constant refrain: “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to be with you.” she tells him he’s just grieving, that he’ll get over it with time, and she wants to support him while he does it; but he montonously repeats his words as if they're the only ones he knows. in her anger and desperation, she tells him he’s making a mistake, and that he’s just feeling guilty because of your unrequited love, which ultimately proves itself to be the categorically worst thing to say. he finally explodes, telling her that she was the mistake, that he doesn't know what he ever saw in her that even closely compares to you, and he'd take every moment with her back if he could. she's the biggest regret of his life, which previously felt like it had only just begun, but now feels like it stretches far beyond what he can tolerate.

in the days, weeks, months that follow, he struggles to understand how something so unjust could occur. it doesn't make sense. really, it just doesn't make sense. eventually, even his initially patient friends grow weary of his neurotic harping upon how unfair it is, how sudden and wrong it all is. he should be punished. you shouldn’t have had to be the one to suffer, but you were. what kind of justice is that? what kind of universe allows something so cruel to happen right under its nose?

when everyone finally tells him that it’s time to move on and let go, he resorts to speaking to the only person who can’t argue back. you. he visits you every day, bringing you gifts on christmas and your birthday, and even just when he sees something he think you'd like. in a way, they’re almost like sacrifices to you to atone for what he did. his contrition. he spends many of his visits by raving like a man gone mad at a stone slab. he likes to think that you’re agreeing with him, that you see the unfairness for what it is. he’s realized that he loves you, has always loved you, but he was too self-absorbed to notice. as hypocritical as it is, he’s only noticed after you… left, and he’s more disgusted by himself than he ever thought possible. still, he thinks you deserve to know. you deserve for him to be brave and tell the truth, but who cares? what’s the use of only recognizing it after everything he’s done?

he apologizes to you while crying about how much he misses you. he tries to tell you about other things, too. about the things he thinks you would’ve liked to hear. about current events he decides you’d find funny or interesting, about life updates on your friends that you’d want to know, about how a new album has been released by an artist you really liked, and that he can't quite bring himself to listen to it yet. he’ll definitely listen, though, someday. he’ll give you his opinions after describing each track in great detail, once he’s able to bear it, that is. you always look(ed) forward to their releases, so it’s the least he can do to repay his debt to you.

but if you owe someone a debt as deep as their life, how can you repay that debt when they’re no longer here to collect it? if he really thinks about it, there are a lot of things he owes you. he owes you the years you spent caring about him when he couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate a fraction of the same courtesy. he owes you every thoughtful action, every encouraging word you wasted on him. he owes you the time you dedicated to make sure he always felt seen, felt understood, felt loved. yes, he owes you a lot of things—too many to properly account for, actually. and now, he even owes you your life. his debt is so heavy, he crumbles under it every day, squirming pathetically beneath the crushing weight of it all like an insect. the worst part is: he owes you more than you ever asked him for. all you wanted in return was honesty, but it appears that even that was too much to ask from him.

he wishes you were here to punish him, to scorn him for being such a fucking bastard. yell at him, hit him, kill him. anything would be fine—he’d tolerate it all—just as long as you were still here. he’d be perfectly content with your hatred, he’d revel in it, even; but he supposes that he doesn’t even deserve that much. as it is, your silence is the most punishment he can receive, but that doesn't feel like it's even close to enough. he finds himself praying for mercy, for some bizarre, cosmic event to put him out of his misery once and for all. he indulges in the idea that if he plays his cards right, if he begs and pleads enough, he’ll find you again. such a notion is initially enough to placate him, but it is to his horror when he realizes that he’s more afraid of that than anything else. what if he finds you, and you tell him, “i never want to see you again,” just like before? such a terrifying outcome is enough to keep him from snuffing out his own light with his own two hands for good. he’d rather live as if he were dead than hear those words again.

so he does. he lives like that for years, decades, until death mercifully takes him. he lives quietly and utterly alone. no wife, no children, and hardly any friends. if your life was robbed from you by his actions, then it’s only right that he lives as if his own were robbed from him, too. it’s the least he can do to atone for what he’s done. what keeps him up at night, though, is the possibility that it’s just not enough. if you do meet him again, what will you say? will you still tell him that you don't want to see him? that the lifetime he spent regretting everything he's ever done pales in comparison to the price you paid for caring about him? as the darkness overcomes him, however, he realizes that you deigning to say anything at all to him is better than your unbearable silence. his final thought before he's swallowed whole is: please, just let me see you one more time.

beomgyu awakens in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he struggles to understand where he is. is he still alive? that can’t be right—he clearly felt himself slipping away. but what if he can’t die? what if that’s his punishment? the thought alone is enough to elicit a guttural, “no, no, no!” out of him as he realizes that his nightmare is not yet over, and may very well never be. tears pour down his face as he wails like a child.

“beomgyu?” you say as you walk through the doorway, looking somewhat sleepy and disheveled in clothes he subconsciously registers as his own. when he looks at you, he's relieved, but the regret he feels is what overwhelms him.

“oh, god. i'm—it's all my fault.”

“what?” you ask, still a bit disoriented from just waking up, seeing as how it's still the middle of the night.

“it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault. i did that to you.” suddenly, you realize what he’s saying, and your heart clenches at his words.

“beomgyu, no. i was distracted. i didn’t see—”

“you were distracted because of me. you thought i was calling you, i just know it. you were there because of me. because i’m a fucking coward who couldn't just tell you the truth.” you don’t know what to say. did he really blame himself for everything? even after all of this time? before you can answer, he speaks again.

“i saw—you just looked so small. i've never—i didn't even think anyone could bleed that much. you were so cold, a-and your face was—”

“hey, hey, hey, stop it,” you say firmly, but gently, “you're not—”

“they said you died at the scene, all… all alone. and i know i was the one who did that. if i had just listened to you, if i had just been honest with you, you would've been alright. but i called you crazy. i said you were being stupid. w-why did i say that? what did i do it for?”

“look at me,” you say firmly, which makes his unfocused eyes zero in on you. “listen, listen to me. it's not your fault, okay? i used to feel like it was, but now i understand that you were scared. i know you couldn't control how you felt about her, and you were right about you not owing me your feelings. you could've been honest, but that doesn't mean you killed me.”

“no, i did it. i did it. i did that to you. if i had just—”

“gyu,” you sigh, and his heart can’t help but stutter at the nickname you haven’t called him in months. “i’m telling you it’s not your fault. i used to blame it all on you, and i was wrong for doing that. but you get it now, right? you're supposed to be with her. you love her.”

“no, no, no! i don't. i really don't,” he desperately exclaims, trying to convince you in the only way he knows how.

“maybe not yet,” you concede, “but you will. once you get to know her, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with her. that's how it's supposed to be, just like before.”

“there is no before,” he cuts in pleadingly. “i lived and died alone, just like i deserved. i just—i love you so much, i couldn't stand to let you go.” you frown at his words—they make you actually feel guilty. even so, you guess that it's time to let the purgatory you find yourselves in go. besides, maybe he needs an apology to finally put it all to rest.

“i'm sorry that—” his heart drops to his stomach. please don’t say it. he’s begging you not to say it. not to someone as unworthy and filthy as him.

“don't. please, please, don't apologize to m—”

“—i made you feel that way. even when i hated you, i never wanted you to live like that; but you can't mistake guilt for… something else. maybe this is another chance to get it right. you can be with her guilt-free, and i can live without regrets.”

“no, i-i didn’t break up with her because of guilt! i did it because i realized that if it’s not you, i don’t want it to be anyone else. it can’t be anyone else.”

“you don’t know that,” you sigh. “you think you feel that way, but you’re just sad that things ended how they did.”

“you’re wrong!” he exclaims. “i didn’t realize it—i was too stupid to realize it. and i know it’s disgusting of me, but i only… i only understood it after i lost you. i-i’m sorry i didn’t realize it before, but please don’t tell me how i feel. i spent every day wishing i would just fucking die so i could see you again. i just couldn’t stand living without you. that’s not normal—that’s not how friends feel, no matter how guilty they are. i just wanted to die.” you purse your lips at his words as you feel dread pooling in your stomach. at least when you died, you didn’t suffer for long, but he suffered for the rest of his life. in the same way, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, no matter how angry you were.

beomgyu has begun to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you—too afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. he’s probably having a panic attack as tears stream down his face, and he ruthlessly tugs at his hair in pure distress. all he can do is repeat that it's all his fault and how sorry he is, and any lingering resentment you may feel dissipates like smoke at his absolutely shattered state. it seems like he really can't live without you, so are you sure you can abandon him like this? you don't think so. although it may not be right, you still think that it's worth a shot. you don't think he has the capacity to hurt you ever again, and you realize that even after everything, you don't think you can love somebody the way that you love him. so, you're willing to let him try again.

“hey, hey. stop it,” you coax, seating yourself on his bed. but he can’t stop it, he physically can’t. he’s whimpering now, like a wild beast with a mortal wound. you don’t hesitate to take him into your arms, holding him tightly as you shush him. “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. don’t cry. i’m here, and i won’t leave again. i promise. just breathe, in… then out. that’s it, just like that. good job.”

eventually, his breath begins to even out, though his body is still racked with shudders. you’re here. you’re okay. you promised that you won’t leave him, and you always keep your word when it comes to him. he finally feels like he can breathe, and even though he’s in so much pain, he still wishes this moment will never end. he wishes he could stay in your arms forever, never letting you leave his side. always staying where he can reach you.

“better?” you ask, pulling away to get a good look at him, but he shakily grips your sleeve in sheer desperation. he just has to be touching you, somehow. he forces himself to nod.

“good,” you say, eyes soft and lips slightly upturned in relief. he almost loses it again at the sight of your smile, no matter how small. he never thought he’d see it directed towards him again in this life or the next. “do you want to start over?”

“s-start over?” he asks. he doesn't dare to let himself hope that you mean what he thinks you mean.

“start over,” you nod. “we can try again, okay?”

“oh, p-please,” he begs. he’s so pathetic. he doesn’t deserve your mercy, but he supposes he’s too selfish to reject it. you look at him for a long, long time with soft eyes. you’re not angry anymore—he’s suffered more than enough, and you finally believe that he loves you just as much as you love him, and maybe even a little more than that.

“you promise you won't hurt me again?”

“i promise. i swear to god—”

without a second thought, you gently cup his face in your hands, which makes his words catch in his throat. his eyes widen as you lean in while pulling him towards you. when your lips meet, he’s electrified to his bones. he melts into the kiss, whimpering slightly at the feeling of your lips against his. when you break apart, you rest his forehead on his own, closing your eyes as he stares at you before he does the same. he clutches the hand you have on his face and grazes his thumb over it as he lets out a contented sigh. nobody has ever made him feel this way before, and if he could go back to the first day he met you, he’d tie you to him immediately.

“thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers. with a smile, you press your lips against his again. he falls into the feeling just as easily as the first time, and you push him down before continuing to go even deeper. before completely giving in.

you spend the night loving and being loved in a way that you never thought you could. you feel cherished to a degree you previously considered impossible. beomgyu reveres you as if you’re his god, and he shows you as much with how loving and gentle he is. when you’re finished, panting heavily against each other, he holds his hand against your cheek as he stares at you in awe.

“i missed you so much. i love you so much. i promise that nobody will ever love you as much as i do. i promise that nobody will ever treat you as well as i will. just don’t leave me, okay?” and when the time comes, even if you do leave first, he’ll be sure to follow you. he won't let you be alone ever again. but he definitely can’t tell you that, or else you’d yell at him for not caring about his life enough.

“okay,” you tell him with a sleepy smile, and he beams before kissing your forehead and letting you drift off. he stares at your peaceful face, resolving to always give you what you want, no matter what it costs him. even if it kills him, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to ensure that you're happier with him than you could ever be with anyone else. he'll prove to you how much he loves you, and he'll pay back the debt he owes you a million times over. you'll see. he’ll marry you, start a new life with you, and chain himself to you forever; which may sound selfish, but he’ll make up for his willfulness by being everything you could ever want and need. and finally, before he joins you to sleep, he thanks the universe for having mercy on him—for letting him see you again.

notes pt. 2: ... so? LMAOOOOO i hope this was worth the wait bc this work was so hard for me to get through it was making me so sad to write it. anyway, love yew. please don't be mean to me tho like if u don't like it just close your eyes n scroll 🙏

permanent taglists: (sfw only) @defnotleee @yaoizee @tubatukimoa ([n]sfw/sfw) @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @midwinterblizzard @sooberryworld @20-cms @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1 @shymexican @that1sadgrl @archoive @paegesoobin @buttercreamerie @ifwtxt @softesyoongi @serenityism00 @fairfootedflekk @kyanmeai @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @taehyunluvrs @m00gyu @denleave1088 @hwanghyunjinismybae @bmo-bri @todorokiskitten @choikanghuening @naoristerling

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#niningtori #the way we were before #txt angst #beomgyu angst #txt ff #beomgyu ff #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fic #txt fic #txt x reader #txt x you #beomgyu x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n

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rosenclaws · 2 days ago

Text

Would you Fall in Love with Me Again (Alternate) || Worst!Logan x Reader

I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine

warnings: angst to fluff, description of violence, Wade being wade, he calls you princess

wc: 2.5k

a/n: This is the alternate plot to the other fic I wrote of the same name. You can find that here! I just really liked both plots and I think this turned out pretty good :) This is also 1k words more than the other one idk what happened there lol

Logan was having a really shitty day. All he wanted was to get drunk but some asshole in red spandex decided to come and ruin his day. Now he's sitting in someone's fucking hideout with no hope of getting out of this hell hole. At least there's booze here.

"You always take shit that doesn't belong to you?" He growls as he takes another chug.

"Fuck off." He turns to berate the unknown voice but stops dead in his tracks.

He sobers up real fucking quick as he takes in the figure before him. Without thinking your name slips from his lips. It feels so foreign coming from him. He hasn't said your name in years.

"Logan?" You take a step forward, could this really be him? No...I can't.

Your Logan would never be caught dead in that uniform. He refused to wear it, no matter how much you begged him to wear it. But this man, he just felt so familiar.

“Thor!” Your attention snaps to the other man in red.

As the commotion begins you slip back into the shadows. You don’t bother to listen to whatever nonsense is coming from the guy in red. Laura brought them here.

You knew she had a Logan, just like you. Except her Logan died. You didn’t know he could. It made you think about your Logan. They sounded pretty similar. Mean, angry, drunk. But had that softer side almost no one else saw but a select few. Your eyes land on the Wolverine standing by Red.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. Maybe this was him. You want it to be him, but that little glimmer of hope refuses to shine. What if its not. You can’t lose him again. You think back to that night. That awful night.

He was going off to the bars again and you all asked him to stay. You begged him for one night to stay home with the team, with you. But he walked away. It was the dead of night when you heard them. You had been waiting for Logan to come home when you heard the footsteps and the shouting.

In a blink of an eye everything was gone. Friends dead. Mansion destroyed. You had fought back as best you could but they killed everyone. Everyone except you. You don’t know how or why you survived but apart of you wished you hadn’t. Then your thoughts drifted to Logan. What would happen when he came home? What if they had gotten to him too?

Before you could even think of finding him. Some assholes in these weird suits showed up. Zapping you with some thing and sending you here. Its been a long time since then. The void was your home now and these people were your family. Every day you wished you could go back to your world, find your Logan. But it seems he might have been brought back to you.

“I know this movie is R rated but if you two could keep the eye fucking to a minimum that would be great.” Red pipes up.

“Shut the fuck up.” Both you and Logan say. Glaring at the loudmouth man.

“Aww how cute, twining!.” He coos at Logan who raises his fist, ready to stick three claws right into his face. Red lets out a shriek and runs to hide behind you.

“What the fuck?” You ask as he peeks over your shoulder.

“Sorry honey bunches but I’m not ready to go another round with peanut over there so you’re my human shield.” You raise your eyebrow at Logan who puts away his claws.

“Fucking coward.” He stares at you before shaking his head and leaving.

“How rude, you think he’s be happy to see you and we’d get one of those notebook pride and prejudice style romance scenes.” He says before leaving you alone.

Seemingly unaware of the bomb he had dropped on you. A plan forms but you don’t pay any mind. So this is him. That is your Logan. He’s so different. Sure he was never the nicest man but he just seemed, broken now. Like all hope and love had been drained from his mind. Leaving only rage in its wake.

As night falls you see him outside, drinking by the fire. Laura sits with him. You wonder what it’s like for her to see him. If it was as jarring for her as it feels for you. Slowly you walk outside, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. Catching only a few words here and there. When Laura leaves he calls out.

“Whoever you think I am, you got the wrong guy.” She turns, catching your gaze for a moment before looking back at him.

"You were always the wrong guy." As she walks away you slowly walk towards him.

This isn't the reunion you expected. When you imagined seeing him again it was a lot nicer. You would find your way out of here and go home, find him and tell him how much you missed him.

"You just gonna stand there?" Logan's voice feels so much colder.

Though you see the instant regret in his eyes as he looks at you. He darts around before staring back down at the fire. You make your way over and sit on the log next to him. His sleeves are ripped and his suit bloodied. This was the suit you never thought you'd see on him.

"Logan, is it really you." You reach out to touch his cheek but he ducks his head away from you.

"Please, I've been dreaming of this day ever since I landed in his hell hole. Tell me that this is real." He can barely meet your eyes as he swirls the brown liquid in the bottle around.

He nods his head. A small part of him says to lie. Look you in the eyes and tell you he's not from the same universe. That he isn't the Logan who abandoned you, walked away from you. But fuck has he missed you.

"You look different, tired. Can it really be you?" You say softly as you turn your body towards him, moving closer. The grip on his bottle tightens as he builds up the courage to look at you. You're just as beautiful as he remembered.

"I...I'm not the man you remember." He says lowly. His face feels heavy in your hands. Like he's letting you bare the weight he's been holding.

"You're still my husband." You hum as you bring your other hand to scratch behind his ear.

"No, I've changed. I'm not the husband you remember." He closes his eyes, relishing in your touch. You used to do this to calm him down.

"Princess..." He takes your hands away from his face.

"I've done things. Horrible things. I...I'm no hero. I wanted to be one, for you but..." He stops.

"I was weak. But I've missed you. Every fucking day I think about you." The angry quips and drunken growls were gone. This was the Logan only you got to see. The tired, broken, vulnerable Logan.

"Would you still love me? Would you fall for me again? If you knew." He whispers. He's terrified of the answer. He became a monster. He didn't have the team or Charles or you to ground him anymore.

"What did you do my love?" You ask. His eyes darken, head hanging in shame.

"I came home and you were all dead. Every single one of you. I-" He stops, the memories pouring into his head.

"I looked for your body, through the smell of blood and death I could still smell your perfume. But I couldn't find you." He remembers staining his clothes with blood. Hands soaked as he searched the mansion for you.

"When I couldn't find you, I thought they had taken you. To experiment or something. So I tracked them down. I found them and I killed them." His eyes lit with a fiery rage. Tears were pooling in your eyes as you listened to what your husband had to go through.

"I killed every last one of them. Hunted them down until I was sure they were all dead for what they did. But I couldn't find you. You were gone and I didn't even have a body to bury." He spits.

He takes his hands away from you, closing himself off again as he chugs the rest of the bottle. Old habits die hard.

"After they were all dead, I couldn't rest. I was so angry. So I kept killing. Didn't matter who. I left a trail of blood and turned the whole world against mutants." He laughs bitterly as he tosses the bottle over his shoulder.

It shatters and a piece digs itself into his shoulder. He barely even notices. Like the pain is something he's used to at this point. Gently you take the piece and tug it out.

"So much for being a hero huh?" He looks at you, expecting the worst as he builds back the walls he had just taken down.

"Logan..." To his shock you weren't angry or disgusted. You were crying. Tears are falling down your face, a look of utter heartbreak as you see the ghost of the man you once knew.

"I'm so sorry." You cry as you wrap your arms around him. He's stiffens at your touch. Your sobs break his damn heart.

"Please don't cry princess," He begs.

"I lived. That night I survived and I tried to find you but they sent me here." Logan tenses. Those bastards sent you here. Alone and afraid. A part of him wants to tear those fuckers limb from limb, but the other part knows that if you hadn't been sent here. You'd be dead. He takes your face and wipes away the tears.

"I'm not worth crying over. Shedding tears for a monster..."

"My husband is not a monster!" You say angrily.

"I told you before I'm not your fucking husband anymore!" Logan snaps back.

You wipe your eyes and stuff your hand into your pocket. Logan's breath hitches as he sees your wedding ring. It wasn't much, he couldn't afford the diamond he thought you deserved. Instead he made it, carved the band from a piece of wood and found the prettiest gem he could.

"Are you not the man who gave this to me?!" You shout.

"Till death do us part Logan. I'm not dead, I'm right here. I've been waiting to see you again for years." You take the ring and shove it against his chest.

His hand curls around yours. You were sick of this, you love this man more than life itself. When will he get that? You never wanted the hero, you want Logan.

"If you're not my husband anymore than take it back." His hand grabs your wrist, refusing to let you go. He reaches into his suit, around his neck is a chain and sitting between his dog tags was his ring.

The one that matched yours. He says your name again. This time much quieter, much sadder. There's no doubt in his mind that he isn't good enough for you. He's never been enough for you. The day you said your vows chased away those fears but they always lingered.

Then he lost you and he had just been repeating it in his head over and over again since then. But now you're here, alive and somehow you're looking past it all. Somehow, you still love him.

"Don't you get it Logan. I love you. I love you so much it hurts." You sink to the ground and Logan follows.

Sweeping you up in his arms, protecting you from the dirt and leaves. You're in his lap, hands caressing his face as he holds onto you, arms wrapped around your waist.

"I'd pick you over and over, I don't care how long its been or who you think you are now. You will always be my husband and I will always love you." You lean your forehead against his. Closing your eyes you just take it in. This is real. You’ve found each other again and you won’t let go ever again.

“I’ve fucking missed you.” He growls as he smashes his lips onto you. His hands travel anywhere he can touch.

It’s been so long since he’s felt so desperate. His hand cups the back of your head as he leans you back onto the ground. Crawling over you as he uses his elbows to prop himself up. Your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens the kiss. Breathless you pull away, ready to kiss him again. Footsteps grab both of your attention. Logan covers you as best as he can as he unsheathes his claws.

“Woah there, let us get the intimacy coordinator here before the two of you start the devils dance.”

“Shut the fuck up Wade.” Logan growls as he sits back up. You try and avoid Wade’s gaze as you sit up.

“I didn’t know they made Viagra for 200 year old men.” He says while unashamedly staring at Logan’s crotch.

“Get the fuck out Red.” You hiss.

“Sorry angel, big fan by the way, just came out here to check on peanut.” Logan makes a move to get up and Wade jumps back.

“Fine jesus sorry for being a concerned friend!” He huffs before marching back to the hideout.

“Does he ever shut up?” You ask and Logan grunts.

“No.”

The fire has been slowly dying and the light is fading fast.

“We’re leaving at sunrise for Cassandras. We’re getting out of here.” Logan looks at you with unease. He just got you back and now you’re going to risk your life again.

“We could stay here. This place ain’t so bad.” Not when you’re here. He could make this place a home if you’re with him.

“They need you Logan, they don’t stand a chance without you.” You hum as you pick a leaf out of his hair.

“What if I lose you again? I just got you back.” He can’t let you slip through his fingers.

“You won’t lose me my love. I swear. Laura believes in you and so do I.” He thinks about Laura. The girl who lost her own version of him. Whoever that man was, he was a hero. If he could be a fraction of him, then maybe he could prove he’s more than what he’s become. You love him but he could be the man he always wanted to be for you. He could be proud of the suit , of his title. He can make you proud.

“Okay. But you’re staying by my side the whole time.” You smile and kiss him once again. Sighing as you get to relish being in the arms of your lover again.

“Deal. Now, let’s get some rest.” You guide him to your bed, he curls up next to you.

Burying his face in your chest as you try and sleep. Logan's hold on you is iron clad, he's afraid that when he wakes tomorrow you won't be here, that this was all some strange dream. You place your hand over his, cooing soft words in his ear until he relaxes.

"I love you Logan." You whisper as you close your eyes. Ready to face whatever comes tomorrow with your husband by your side.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #worst!logan howlett x reader

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prettygirl-gabi · 2 days ago

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Chapter 5: In the Spotlight

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: being the "babysitter"= fun...right?

Welcome to the chapter 5 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The whispers started as soon as I entered the gym for practice the day after the Villanova game. People were staring, their eyes darting between their phones and me. A couple of players from the men’s team even snickered when I walked past.

I didn’t understand what was going on until KK intercepted me by the bleachers, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighed and held up her phone. On the screen was a blurry video of me walking into the locker room at Villanova. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers’ mystery girl? 👀”

I groaned, my face heating up. “Are you kidding me? This is so out of context!”

“Yeah, but people love a good rumor,” KK said, scrolling through the comments. “Most of them are just shipping you and Paige.”

“Shipping us?” I echoed, incredulous. “We’re not even—”

“Relax,” she cut in, her tone gentle. “It’s just noise. Don’t let it get to you.”

But it did get to me. All day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching me, judging me. By the time practice ended, I was ready to throw in the towel on my entire final project.

I went straight to Coach Geno’s office, my camera bag slung over my shoulder. He looked up from his desk, his brow furrowing when he saw me.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, placing my project proposal on his desk. “The rumors, the stares—it’s too much. I didn’t sign up for this.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Let me ask you something. Why did you choose this project?”

I hesitated. “Because I wanted to challenge myself. To tell a story that mattered.”

“And do you think you’ve done that so far?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stood, walking around his desk to stand in front of me. “I see potential in you, Y/N. You have an eye for this—an instinct. Don’t let a bunch of gossip derail what could be an incredible project. Push through. Finish what you started.”

I nodded, his words sinking in. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Later that evening, I found myself in the gym. The empty court was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. I was adjusting my camera settings when the sound of sneakers on hardwood made me look up.

Paige.

“Hey,” she said, her smile soft. “Mind if I join you?”

I shook my head, and she dropped her bag on the sidelines before walking over. “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” I replied, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms. “The video?”

I nodded, surprised she even knew about it.

“People are ridiculous,” she said. “But you can’t let them win. Come on.”

She grabbed a ball and motioned for me to follow her to the three-point line. “Let’s work off some of that pressure. I mean granted im kinda banned drom practice though.”

“I’m terrible at basketball, and yeah you are banned.” I warned.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me as your coach, speaking of coah i asked fo sit with you..so like you're my babysitter” she said with a evil grin.

The first few shots were laughably bad, but Paige was patient, adjusting my form and giving me tips. By the time I finally sank a three, I was laughing so hard I almost dropped the ball.

“There you go!” she cheered, throwing her arms in the air.

“Beginner’s luck,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

She pulled out her phone, recording me as I took another shot. “For posterity,” she said when I gave her a questioning look.

“Hang on,” I said, running out to my car to grab my personal camera. When I came back, she was dribbling the ball lazily at half-court.

“Let’s use this instead,” I said, setting up the tripod.

We spent the next hour goofing off, filming everything from trick shots to ridiculous commentary. Paige even tried to reenact her infamous Villanova assist, but it ended with her tripping over her own feet.

As it was getting late we headed back at my dorm, we poured Shirley Temples into a giant pitcher, the fizz of the soda filling the room.

“To surviving rumors and bad basketball shots,” Paige said, holding up her glass.

I clinked mine against hers. “And to you, for teaching me how to shoot a three.”

She laughed, leaning back against the couch. “You’re a natural.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.

As the night wore on, we sat there talking, the camera still sitting on the coffee table. Part of me wanted to grab it, to capture this moment. But another part of me knew that some things were better left undocumented, kept just between us.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)

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jellymochii · 6 hours ago

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Stray Kids - What Kind of Dominant are They? (Headcanons)

❣ pairings: ot8 skz x fem!reader

❣ genre: smut, fluff

❣ wc: 2.3k

❣ cw: HEAVYYYY SMUT, bondage, bdsm, pet play, dom/sub relationship, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, unprotected sex (please don't), cnc

↪author's note: hello! got in the mood to make some skz hcs. i might do sub!skz next OR dom!txt hehe. hope you enjoy!

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

❣ Chan - Daddy Dom

Pretty much a classic right here, we all knew this was coming.

Is so doting and loving on you!! He loves taking care of you and spoiling you in every way possible.

You're feeling icky from period cramps? He'll get you sweet treats and massage your worries away. Bad day at work? He's right there holding your face gently and peppering you with kisses.

Loves making you feel good in any way possible. He'll make sure to make you cum at least once before fucking you, and always fucks you slow and deep–just how you like it!

Will never stop telling you how good you make him feel. Lots of praises like “My sweet girl, always so tight and warm.” Or “Ffffuuuuck you make daddy feel so good, princess.”

You misbehave though? Yeah, you're in for it.

Pulls you over his lap and hikes up your skirt, and then spanks you as many times as he sees fit. Lost count? Oops, guess he's restarting from one.

At that point there's tears in your eyes from the sting of your swollen red asscheeks as you're begging him for mercy, telling him you're sorry.

If you really misbehaved he'll pretend like he forgives you and finger your cunt–only to deny you sweet release.

“I thought I told you already, bad sluts don't get to cum, sweetheart~”

If you've been extra mouthy he'll shut you up quickly by grabbing handfuls of your hair and shoving his cock down your throat.

Don't worry, his aftercare is always immaculate, regardless of how good you were that night. Warm baths and sweet words for his baby!

❣ Lee Know - Brat Tamer

Everyone act surprised. We all know the man loves a challenge.

And you, his little bratty baby? Buckle up, you're in for a long night.

Has all kinds of toys to punish you with–cuffs, ropes, whips, etc.

Definitely handcuffs your wrists and ankles to the bed while spanking you repeatedly. You shouldn't have been a brat, now should you?

Whispers absolute filth into your ear, and you secretly love every part of it. Things like “Fucking slut, this was supposed to be a punishment–and look at you, you're dripping.” And “Aww are you crying? Poor girl, I couldn't give less of a shit, huh?”

Definitely not as nice as Chan when it comes to spanking you. At least Chan has the mercy to restart, but Minho? Yep, that's an extra 20.

If he's in a really bad mood, he'll tie you up and shove a remote controlled vibrator up your already leaking pussy and have you at his mercy as he controls every pulse to come out of it. (You're not cumming any time soon.)

May also just deny you entirely and watch you helplessly whine and cry as he jacks himself off in front of you, not giving you a single taste of his sweet juices.

It's all a game to him. He looooves when you're extra bratty, or when you try and fight back–it turns him on even more knowing he'll break you down entirely into submission until you're a babbling mess.

Listen, he's not a complete monster though. Once everything is said and done, he'll still give you the best aftercare.

Cleans you up nicely with a warm washcloth and makes sure you pee and drink lots of water. He'll also make sure you have a nice warm meal filled with lots of protein to get your energy back.

You're still his baby at the end of the day. Just a very, very bratty one.

❣ Changbin - Pleasure Dom

Oh my sweet Binnie…he's so whipped for you.

He's at your every beck and call, and makes you feel so loved and protected–even in the sheets.

He knows how ridiculously strong he is compared to you, and how you look oh so little caged under his large and muscular body. (He loves it.)

But he's still gentle! He knows he could break you if he wanted to, which is why he treats you like a porcelain doll in bed, and gives you everything you want in more.

But man, you really drive him crazy, y'know?

He can't help it how good you make him feel, your pussy sucking his girthy length in and your walls fluttering around him. Sometimes it's all too much for him.

Takes a LOT of mental and physical strength to not pound into you like a starved wild animal, but sometimes he just can't stop himself, your pussy is just too good.

And so trust, you will get pounded into a brutal pace, but he's gonna make you see stars with how good you feel.

Whispers things like “Aigoo, baby, I'm sorry. I-I can't help it, it's too good~!” And “Shhh I know baby, just let daddy use you for a little.”

You can tell he's close by how his normal grunts and huffs turn into high pitched whines and moans, his muscles start quivering from all the sensations filling up his system.

Huge load. That's all I gotta say, your poor cunt is leaking from the generous load of his love he's bred into you.

Aftercare king. The best and warmest cuddles you could ever ask for.

He's so in love with you, please tell him what a good job he did and how much you love him!

❣ Hyunjin - Service Dom

A service Dom is typically someone who enjoys inflicting or giving any sort of stimulation to their sub for their own pleasure.

Lover boy Hyunjin is no exception. You're his muse, after all. He wants to explore every part of your body in any way he can.

He watches your scrunched up face while biting his lip as his fingers dig into that sweet spot you love, the other hand fondling your breasts or pinching your nipple as he watches attentively for any sign of pleasure.

Definitely into sensory deprivation. He loves having you blindfolded, handcuffed, and even likes having cute earmuffs on you so you can only feel him using your sense of touch.

Ice cubes, paintbrushes, anything non-conventional that stimulated your nerves in any way. The way you twitch ever so slightly with just a light touch to your clit gets his cock soooo hard.

May also take photos of you while you're in different positions (with your consent, of course) to have for later to either jerk off with or paint and save to his private collection.

If he's eating you out, he's got his plump lips sucking on your clit while his fingers twist in every direction of your sloppy pussy, all while humping the bed from how insanely turned on he is.

When you actually have sex, his hands are all over you. Even if he's sweating buckets and shaking from overstimulation, he's gonna make you cum as many times as he wants. He has to, in his mind.

The way your face contorts from pleasure and how your walls flutter around his cock is enough to make him cum, but he always restrains himself.

Uses his dick so skillfully. He knows your pussy inside and out, and thrusts himself into you mercilessly. Yeah, you're having multiple orgasms tonight.

“Nnngh, jagi–you're so beautiful, I could hah stay like this forever.” Or “C'mon honey, just one more, for me?”

Major cuddlebug afterwards. He'll clean you up eventually, but for now he just wants to hold you and bask in your presence and tell you how much he adores you.

❣ Han - Dom Tendencies

I don't think Han is any kind of traditional Dom, I more so assume that he has Tendencies that match up with your typical Dom from time to time.

Kinda cocky and more dominant at first when you two are fucking. Lots of “Yeah, you like that huh?”

As he gets closer though, his brain becomes more and more mushy. He's so drunk off your pussy that his head fogs up like he's in a trance.

All he can focus on at this rate if you, and how pretty you look with your nose all scrunched up underneath him.

Once you get close and start ng things like “Ha-Hannie please, I’m gonna cum~!” It's all over for him.

He's suddenly forgotten how to be dominant entirely and all he can think about is wanting to cum. You could basically say your pussy was so good that it made him go stupid.

“Jagi–angh, please cum for me, I'll do anything!” He'll say desperately pounding into you at an irregular pace, looking for any sort of stimulation.

This usually leads to him cumming before you, but if you cum before him? Oh poor boy, he's gonna malfunction.

The feeling of your walls slurping him in and coating his cock with your cum makes his eyes roll in the back of his head. You swear you can see his tongue sticking out like an ahegao.

“Fuckfuckfuck I'm cummi- agh~!”

And yet in true Dom fashion, he plugs you full of his babies–making sure every last drop seeds inside your cervix.

You're both totally wiped after that. He'll still pepper your face in sweet kisses and tell you how good you were, a few giggled mixed in between.

❣ Felix - Versatile Dom

Felix is very flexible in terms of pleasing you.

You want a softer, more love making session? He'll be right there with rose petals and candles. On the other hand, if you're wanting him to absolutely destroy you–he sure can!

Even through his cocky Dom exterior, much like changbin he's petrified of hurting you or going too far. You're his sweet baby, after all!

He uses his rich and deep voice to groan sweet nothings into your ear, he knows it drives you crazy.

“Yeah? You like when I touch your clit like that, baby?” Or “Ohhh look at you dripping, my nasty little slut.”

When you are looking for something more kinky, he'll bust out a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and that vibrator wand you love so much–and use it to push you farther than you've ever gone before in terms of overstimulation.

Seeing you so obedient and helpless underneath him may scare his brain, but his tip throbs at the sight.

He's very generous when it comes to making you cum. He won't deny or torture you, but he loves teasing you for how squirmy and pathetic you are bound up like that.

His generosity (and slight sadism) peeks through when he makes you cum more times than you can count. And best believe, he’ll be pulling more out of you!

Creampies–lots of them.

Aftercare is always a must for both of you–kisses, cuddles and brownies in that order.

Moral of the story--he’s anyone you want him to be!

❣ Seungmin - Pet Owner Dom

Everyone act surprised part 2

Lee Know's evil counterpart in terms of brat taming. You wanna misbehave? You're gonna get treated like the animal you are.

He’ll put you in your kennel and tie your vibrator to your sopping cunt, leaving you there for as long as he sees fit.

“Awww, you're such a pathetic little puppy.” Or “Bad puppies go into the kennel, you know this. Or are you too dumb to remember, hmm?”

You've got the whole set at this point–ears, matching lingerie, and a collar with his initials engraved in it so everyone knows who you belong to.

Maybe if he's feeling nice he'll let you desperately hump his thigh for any sort of friction while teasing you.

And trust, YOU. WILL. BE. BRED.

Calls your ovulation period your “heat”, and knows how much his sweet puppy needs his cum when she's oh so desperate!

Yep, doggy style. It's both of your favorites–your brain goes fuzzy from how deep his tip kisses your cervix, and he loves hearing his puppy's whines and cries when she's close or overstimulated.

Tugs you by your collar when he's close, his breath becomes erratic and his limbs shake.

By the end of your playtime, there's so much cum seeping out of your cunt (you'll probably get plugged so you're bred properly)

Tells you how much he loves you and what a good puppy you are for him after!

❣ I.N. - Primal Dom

Oh my sweet innie

He really wants to be gentle and loving, and be the sweetheart Dom in bed.

But he simply cannot control his animalistic urges when he's around you.

He's pounding into you at a merciless and brutal pace, all while strangled cries and guttural moans spill from his mouth

He can't help it! His urges are just telling him to :(

Prefers raw any day, let's hope you're on birth control anyway

You almost wonder where this ungodly stamina has come from, especially on days when he has a lot of pent up frustration from practice–you've never been drilled in at this fast and rough of a pace.

Not a lot of words when he's close, he's breathing heavily as filthy moans growl into your ear. Almost as if he were saying “You made me like this.”

Huuuuge breeding desire. He needs to fill you up and make sure you're swollen with his kin in 9 months.

There's something so feral about him when he cums. It's the sweet release he’s been needing, but he’s so addicted to the way your walls take all of his seed in–so much so that you're in for another few rounds just so he can feel it again.

Poor baby, he's so mortified once he snaps out of it and realizes he basically ruined you. He uses gentle warm washcloths like Chan taught him to tend gently to all of your bruises.

Tons of reassurance and apologies spilling from his mouth, but you wouldn't have it any other way since you know how much he loves you.

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lxxiezz · 1 day ago

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I want to see Sonic scared.

You're evil.. I love it.

I'm gonna make it Sonic shitting his pants OVER reader, if you want him generally scared then please have me know!

Sonic x mobian!reader (It's not really specified but i see that more fitting)

Sonic was never one to get scared easily. Sure, sometimes he can get startled when caught off-guard.. but that's not the point! Sonic portrays himself like the brave hero he is, always fighting for what's right. Yet it all changes when he sees you getting striked down by one of Eggman's whacky concoction he created to destroy Sonic.

But how did you wind up in that situation? Let's run it back, no?

It was a calm afternoon as usual everyone was doing their own thing, until they get notified that Eggman is yet again, up to no good. Sonic and his partner - you, were the first ones to arrive, fighting side by side through the array of robots, the rest of the team soon arrived aswell, but they all got seperated, including you, from Sonic. You defeated the enemies with a bit of struggle, but nothing too terrible, until you spot that blue blur being attacked a bigger, seemingly stronger killer machine, he was taking it head on so he couldn't notice a random blast of what it seems like a laser beam, heading straight at him.

If someone asked you what were you thinking, you would'nt be able to answer that yourself, since you weren't thinking at all, in that moment everything seemed to slow, as you jumped over an enemy and flung yourself in Sonic's direction, taking the blow instead of him, you could hear him yell out your name before everything went dark.

Sonic has never felt panicked, or scared. But for the first time ever.. when he sees you sprawled on the ground motionless, it all washed over him in one huge wave, he notifies the others to get out of there and grabs you and runs at a inhumane speed away from all the danger and stops once he's a safe distance away. "(Name)!! (Name)!!"

He'd call out, shaking your body by your shoulders, but you remained unresponsive. He felt real panic and fear for the first time ever. It was horrible. Tails soon flew over an took you away to patch you up. Your condition was critical. It took hours of whatever it is that they were doing to get you fixed up, and when he saw you again.. bedridden and unconsious. He didn't feel relieved, not yet. He was terrified for your wellbeing.

Panic was going through his system in waves, just when he thinks everything's okay he'd spiral back into the same thing.

It was only 2 days later when you finally woke up, Sonic was by your side holding your gloved hand and staring out into the abyss. When he felt your hand twitch his green eyes snapped to look at your face, your eyebrows furrowed as you opened your eyes, letting out a little grunt as you slowly tried recollecting the past events. You didn't have enough time to wake before you feel a certain hedgehog jump on top of you and hold you in an embrace. "Ack- ow- Sonic!" You yelped at the pain in your torso, looking down at the hedgehog as he hurriedly backed off to not hurt you "(Name), (Name).., i was so worried!" He'd exclaim, looking at you.

"I'm fine Sonic, I'm okay now."

You reassured, holding out your hand to caress his cheek. You saw the worry and fear in his green irises finally wash away. You were okay.

Ok so this turned out way different than i initially thought it would but oh well. I'm too tired to think thoughts right now anyways.. Hope yal like this!

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #sth #sonic series #sonic boom #sonic prime #sonic au #sonic fanfic #sonic headcanons #sonic forces #sonic fanfiction #x reader

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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 days ago

Text

Valentine's Day Event

Hope everyone is having a good start to 2025! To kick off the year, I've put together a Valentine's Day event!

Similar to the Secret Santa event this is a fic exchange, but with a little twist! How do you feel about playing matchmaker to another writer?

Keep reading for details and how to enter. The timeline and deadlines are a little longer for this one, as I'll explain below.

Fic List

Info:

The premise of the event is that the reader is being set up on a blind date.

When submitting an ask to join, please include a description for the reader (can describe yourself if that's your vibe) as well as which fandom you want. It can be as detailed as you like (will include more details below).

The twist is that you cannot ask for a specific character! That is up to the writer you're paired with! Ta da! Blind date!

The fic entries should be around 500 words minimum, no upper cap.

Each person participating will be writing one fic, but it will be for another person.

People entering must be willing to write. You can't ask for a fic if you don't want to write one in return.

All genres are welcome, does not have to include smut if you don't want to.

Fandoms - Jujutsu Kaisen and Love and Deepspace

How to enter/Deadlines:

Inbox or DM me saying you want to participate with a brief description of your reader plus the fandom and tone of the fic. For example: "Hi Ray! I want to be part of the Valentine's Day collab. My reader is mid thirties, has short blonde hair, wears glasses and has a chubby body. She's very feminine and likes listening to rock music and enjoys watching Studio Ghibli. Smut encouraged. JJK fandom." OR "Hey Ray! Sign me up for the Valentine's Day event! My reader has curly hair and is a POC with brown eyes and deeply enjoys watching nature documentaries and owns a cat! No smut, but maybe some light kissing and cuddling. LADS fandom." Add whatever descriptions you want for your reader.

Once you inbox or DM I'll update a list with your description.

The last date to ask to join is February 14th, aka Valentine's Day. This is because I need a final head count for participants to assign a matchmaker to each person.

Once this deadline is reached, I'll run all the participants through a random generator which will match up who gets who. I'll be matching up participants based on the fandoms asked.

I will tag each matchmaker under the person they're paired with on the fic list. Writers will then draft a fic with the character of their choosing on a blind date. Just make sure it's within the same fandom that was asked. No need for secrecy for this event, but please don't spoil the fun and ask your matchmaker to write a specific character.

When posting your fic, use the hashtags "ncs valentines day" and "blind date matchmaking" and tag me as well as the person you wrote the fic for.

The deadline for the fic to be published is March 14th (White Day, in case ya'll didn't know!)

If you are unable to partcipate, please let me know immediately so that I can update the list because I don't want someone to not get a fic.

Good luck with your blind dates!

dividers by @cafekitsune, banner by me

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #love and deepspace #lds #lads #l&ds #jjk smut #love and deepspace smut #ncs #ncs collab #ncs event #love and deepspace fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #lads fluff #fic exchange #jujutsu kaisen smut #ncs valentines day #blind date matchmaking

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sassydefendorflower · 3 days ago

Note

Top ten recs for 2024, go!

Top Ten Fanfic Recs of 2024, you ask?

Here we go:

What Prices Blood Can Pay by najio - FMA Brotherhood

Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang are finally put to trial - Scar has a few thoughts on that. A look at restorative justice and and whether or not blood can be repaid.

2. Recovery by twasbrilligand - FMA Brotherhood

Darius, Heinkel and Edward in the days following Baschool. Because even the Hero of the People can fall.

3. letters to central north by rizahawkaye - FMA Brotherhood

Fuhrer Roy Mustang died - and now it is up to Edward Elric to sort through his letters and see what should be revealed to the public. A look at Royai through the eyes of someone observing.

4. say it like you mean it by lovelyleias - FMA Brotherhood

Riza Hawkeye is anything but a good girlfriend. Especially if you're not Roy Mustang. Outsider POV of a man who loves Riza - and slowly realizes that she doesn't love him.

5. back and forth (push and pull) by sometimesiship - FMA Brotherhood

Alphonse moves to Xing to learn Alkahestry - nobody told him love could be this hard to understand. There is always more to understanding each other than just raw attraction. Especially when you live at the Xingese Royal Court.

6. try a little harder by kathkin - Superstore

Jonah's daemon unsettled - and somehow everyone has something to say on what that says about him. Jonah? Now, he just wishes everything would go back to normal. And Amy would stop looking at him like that.

7. DRY IN THE BAYOU, WET IN THE QUARTER by lamphouse - Criminal Minds

There is something alluring about Ethan, and it's not just the fact that he doesn't judge Spencer while he's at his worst. There is freedom in the safety of nostalgia mixed with the ecstasy of drug fueled sex.

8. The New Recruit by Misuto - FMA Brotherhood

Sometimes life throws you curve balls: for example, a thirteen year old enemy of the state who is supposedly going to be rehabilitated through the State Alchemist's program. And apparently that means Edward Elric is now Roy's problem.

9. You are my mixed roses by Anon - Jet Lag The Game

There is more to friendship than traveling the world together, but somehow it takes Adam a bit to figure out what it is he is feeling.

10. The Worst Place on Earth by RoryMarx - Spring Awakening

Being twenty-one can suck tremendously - especially if you're still paying for mistakes you've made at fourteen. Only Melchior cannot be stuck forever, Moritz's ghost will make sure of that. A Self-Rec because I have rarely enjoyed writing something as much as I enjoyed writing this <3 <3 <3

I hope this satisfies your curiosity :D

#fic recs #fmab #royai #fma #superstore #criminal minds #edward elric #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #check these out!!!#asks and answers #selkienight60 #THANK YOU LOVE <3 <3 <3

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citystain · 2 days ago

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an/cw: self sabotaging behavior? idk this is a weird vent-y hurt comfort piece Read At Ur Own Risk although it really isnt that bad, uuuhh per usual i dont want to know if you notice any grammatical errors n enjoy

wc: 742

there's not a single thing more terrifying than love. no monster, no prophecy, no clash of swords could ever match the primal fear it instilled in you.

percy is... something. he's been romancing you for the past few weeks and you've been letting him. it was fun. the banter, the feigned ignorance of what was happening between the two of you—it was all shiny and new and most importantly, your brain hadn't caught up to it yet.

before, anyway. now, it had its destructive hands all over it. the thought of percy no longer gave you butterflies but an unsettling feeling in your gut. the kind a deer got before running. now, he felt more like a wound you couldn't stitch up rather than a boy.

you hadn't seen him in a week (officially, now— you'd been counting.) and no, it wasn't avoidance. you were just... busy. the life of a demigod is a very hard one. you didn't have time for romance—not now, at least.

up until the fifth day, it had been bearable. now, you can hardly sleep without him haunting you in the quiet of the night. the memories of the two of you were painful to think about in any context: how he used to cradle your name so gently on his tongue, how every time you thought of him, you used the past tense, how you were currently ruining any sort of bond the two of you might have had.

when you're alone, loving him is horrific. it's choking on something too big to swallow.

percy was always too observant when it came to you. he noticed all your little pieces, ones you didn't even know existed. the smaller things, like how you took bigger breaths in the cold (so he could drape his sweater over your shoulders), and the bigger ones, like how you were throwing yourself into any activity to keep yourself away from him.

...

"are you avoiding me?" his voice startles you out of your daze. you hadn't even noticed him walk up, but he's there, standing in front of you, and it makes you want to bolt.

"i've been busy." you lie, not meeting his eyes.

"with what?"

you hate the way his voice still holds the warmth it always has with you. how he hasn't started hating you for your blatant disregard for his feelings with your behavior.

"stuff." you try to sound irritated, but it comes out flat.

there's silence. you glance at him finally, and know it's a mistake the second you do. his gaze is steady, unwavering, and so full of something you can't (or rather, won't) name that it makes your throat tighten. he's foolish to think, of all people, he could love you.

"listen.. i know we've been fooling around or whatever, but i know his ends, and it's not good, so consider this a favor." this is how it always goes. someone is naïve enough to keep trying with you, not knowing you crush all hope of love between your fingers with vengeance, and everyone gets hurt in the end.

despite the cold, fake-casual mood you've set, he sits next to you. "we haven't even got to the start and you're already talking about the end?" hes good at casual. certainly better than you.

"well- i'm just warning you." you look away, hugging your knees to your chest.

he nods, looking at you with a stupidly sweet smile. "alright, duly noted. now will you stop being dramatic and start talking to me again?"

your chest aches at how willing he is to fall into normalcy with you again, after the way you've been acting. you frown, though it's half-hearted. "i'm serious. i don't want to hurt you."

he laughs, and it aggravates you in a way that makes the pit in your stomach ease up a bit. he holds eye contact as he pulls your hand into his. "you won't hurt me. i promise."

you stare at him, eyebrows pulled together seriously. "you don't know—"

"how could i? how could i know anything when you keep running away before i can find out." he says with his signature, stupid, stupid, boyish charming laugh. you're too caught up in your own head and next rebuttal to put up a fight when he pulls you into his side. "please, will you at least try before you throw in the towel?"

you don't have the heart to deny him.

#new spice city #spice.txt #i wrote this with survival builder playing in the back my two D1s 💗🥂#pjo #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson angst #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine

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abbysimsfun · 10 hours ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 125 (Flowers, But Everyone's On Edge!)

Conrad landed at the San Myshuno Airport just before dark, where he signed for the bodies of George and June Brindleton. After sending them off in a truck to the morgue in Brindleton Bay, he drove around the city looking for a flower shop.

Really, he was hoping one flower shop in particular was open, and he smiled as he approached The Blooming Room with its lights on.

When the bell dinged to signal his entry, a woman turned around with a smile. "How can I help you?" Her face fell. "Lieutenant Gordon. Are you looking for some flowers?"

He nodded. "Something yellow. Buttercups, if you have them."

"We don't usually put buttercups in our floral arrangements. They're a skin irritant."

He frowned. "Forget the buttercups. Just...yellow."

Melissa Ramsay looked around nervously. "Is that it?"

"You changed your hair."

"Ximena's not the only one who likes to express herself with a bottle of hair dye, I guess. I went back to my natural colour because I'm done hiding."

"I found Rafa," he said. "He's in Sulani."

"Why are you telling me this, Lieutenant? I don't care."

"I don't believe that."

"Do you still care what happens to Ximena?"

"Of course I do. But I hope Ximena ends up behind bars for as long as possible, and I think you still care about Rafa."

She laughed. "I think you don't know me."

"So if I told you how to get in touch with him, you wouldn't even want to check in?"

"Lieutenant Gordon, please!" she begged. "If I check in with him, I'll never want to let him go."

"I don't know if there's anyone else in the world who could bring Ximena down faster than her brother, but he needs to be convinced. I told him I'd try to get him a lawyer and a judge who might offer him a good deal in exchange for turning her in, but he needs a real good reason to do it. I think he still cares about you, too."

She perked up somewhat. "How good a deal?"

"A few years, maybe. If he can help us pin Ximena for the murder of Jimmy Stefano, her price will go up and his sentence could come down. But the judge would need to see he'd be a productive member of society outside the system, and strong relationships with good people can go a long way."

"I don't want you, or anyone else, to get my hopes up, Lieutenant. Or Rafa's."

"I don't want that, either," he insisted. "But the only way we can do this is if we work together to change his mind."

For the first time, Melissa seemed hopeful, and as she sold him a bouquet of carnations and daffodils, Conrad thought he'd changed her mind. But as she wrapped cellophane around the stems, she frowned. "Fifteen simoleons, Lieutenant. Happy Love Day."

He sighed, pulling the notepad and a pen from his pocket to scribble down some information while he paid. "He's not using a phone, but if you call Leila Illes and Oliana Ngata at that number, they'll rent you a villa. Their son, Tane, will be able to show you where Rafa's hiding out. Bring good shoes."

By the time he made it back to Brindleton Bay, Love Day was already over. Heather was distracted, worried over Ash's conversation with Ben, but she accepted the flowers with a smile. "I'm glad you're okay. These are beautiful."

"I'll make it up to you for missing Love Day soon, but Sulani was...an adventure. The chief called an emergency meeting to discuss the Brindletons' murder investigation. We've got to try to plan for what might crack in this town now that he's gone. I need to change and turn around again...but I found Rafa."

Heather's eyes grew wide as she threw on a sweater and he changed clothes. "You found him? Did you bring him in, too? Is that the trouble you ran into?"

"He knocked me out before he realized it was me, but he stayed with me until I came to and apologized. I tried to convince him to come back and help us get a confession out of his sister, but he turned me down."

"So you just left him there? He's a wanted criminal. Does your boss know?"

"Rafa's almost like a little brother to me. He was so young, and Ximena worked all the time."

Heather frowned. "Conrad, you're lying for him."

"I need him to trust me, Heather. I think he's the only person who can bring Ximena down. I'm trying to help him for all our sakes."

"If anyone at the station finds out you're helping him, you could lose your job."

He nodded. "I know that. But I'd risk my job a thousand times for you and the kids, too. And your family."

Heather was annoyed, and she chose this moment to announce she'd booked her long talked-about vacation with Spencer. "Spence and I are going to Selvadorada the first week of spring. She's got a dig booked right after you and Ash finish the treehouse project in Henford, and we thought since Ash will be in the city with the Landgraabs until Easter's over, the timing was sort of perfect for once."

Conrad wavered. "Do you really think going to Selvadorada's the best idea right now? If they're upset we've got one of their own behind bars, I don't want you going to their jungle."

"You don't want me going?" She eyed him incredulously. "Since when are you in charge of me?"

"I don't mean it like that, Heather. It's just the cartel..."

"You said yourself you thought they'd dropped her."

"No, I hope they've dropped her. We haven't brought them in because we don't want them to think we're sniffing around at all."

"Conrad, I'm going. You have your camping trip with Ash and I need a vacation, too. Spencer's practically an expert in Selvadoradian culture and traditions and spends more time down there than you ever have," she argued. "We spent years promising each other Ximena wouldn't control our lives from wherever she was hiding, and she's not about to start now that we know exactly where she is!"

He backed off. Heather rarely got upset and he knew he'd touched a nerve. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm just being paranoid, and I know you and Spencer can take care of yourselves down there. I've got to get to the station, but I love you."

She accepted a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, too. And wait:" She took a deep breath. "I know you just got back, there's a lot on your plate at work, and the treehouse project's just around the corner, but I'm on edge because Ash said he saw Ben and his dog after school yesterday. I don't think he believes they're ghosts, either."

Conrad flinched. "What do you mean, he saw them?" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: There's no snow in the flower shop exterior shot because Conrad was in Ciudad Enamorada. He had just randomized in Media Naranja Park to pick up a suspect (unrelated technically, they were innocent of the in-game case so it didn't help his career points and wasn't a story canon pick-up). I haven't explored Ciudad Enamorada enough but I saw the flower shop and thought it was adorable. Suddenly, he needed to get flowers for Heather. And since he needs Melissa's help and she doesn't live in Ciudad Enamorada, voila the flower shop is in San Myshuno (which gets less snow than Brindleton Bay, anyway, and it's almost spring!)

NOTE 2: If Melissa is unrecognizable, that's because I lost the original (the game deleted her before I could save her after she appeared among the potential suspects for a crime Conrad was solving for gameplay that I turned into storyline). I tried to recreate her but it was hard so I played up how she's changed her appearance a bit since last seen. If this was a TV soap, there'd be a random voiceover when she appeared on camera: "The role of Melissa Ramsay will now be played by so-and-so."

WCIF Flower Shop: Since the flower shop in Media Naranja is a rabbit hole, I found this room on the Sims 4 Gallery by plumlala3 called Betty's Flower Shop. I thought the interior was really cute, stuffed with flowers, and felt small enough to somewhat represent the inside of the small shop in the park!

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay #san myshuno

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cherryhazee · 1 day ago

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Kiss Her You Fool | Luke Hughes

Warnings: Mature language, use of alcohol, and sexual references or implications.

wc: 3.2k

Part 6 of The Art of Loving series

After what felt like the longest road trip of his life, Luke finally found himself back in New Jersey. The comfort of being home didn’t fully sink in as he hauled his bag through his apartment.

He was halfway through unpacking when his phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Avery’s name flash across his screen.

Glad you made it back safe. How’s New Jersey treating you so far?

He smiled as he typed a response, his fingers moving quickly.

Feels good to be back. I’ve missed the routine. But I might’ve missed something else too.

He hit send before he could overthink it. The reply came quickly.

Something or someone?

Luke’s heart did a small flip. He couldn’t help but smile, his thoughts turning to the girl who had become, once again after a few years, a quiet but constant presence in his life over the last few months.

Definitely someone.

There was a pause before her next message popped up.

Good answer. So... will I see you at the party next week?

Luke grinned, leaning against a wall. He hadn’t expected to see her this soon, but the thought of spending New Year’s Eve with her made his pulse quicken.

Yeah, I’ll be there. I wasn’t sure if you’d be going.

Her reply came quickly.

The girls kinda roped me in weeks ago. I figured you’d be too tired from the roadtrip for the party.

I wouldn’t miss it.

Before he could slip his phone back into his pocket, another message popped up.

Good. I was hoping to see you :).

Luke felt a warmth spread through him as he typed his next message.

I was hoping to see you too. Counting the days.

He hit send, his heart racing just a little. The anticipation was building, and for the first time all week, he felt a sense of ease settle over him. He couldn’t wait to be with her again.

–

The music pulsed through the room, a blend of bass-heavy beats and laughter from every corner. Luke stood near the bar, sipping his drink with a quiet detachment. He wasn’t much for parties like this, but Jack had insisted he come and Avery would be there. It was New Year’s Eve after all, a night for fresh starts.

Avery stood by the edge of the dance floor, her chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves. She wore a sleek black dress, simple yet stunning, paired with golden heels that caught the light as she moved. She was laughing at something one of the guys was saying, her expression bright and unguarded.

Luke froze. His heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he saw her, no matter how much time had passed.

Jack materialized at his side as if summoned by his hesitation. He shot Luke a knowing grin, nudging him with his elbow. “You know, you two are just about the only ones who don’t realize how you look at each other.”

Luke shot him a sidelong glance, not trusting his voice to stay steady. "We’re just friends."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Don’t you get tired of saying that? You two happen to have this... undeniable chemistry every time you’re in the same room." He paused, giving Luke a mischievous look. “Man, I gotta say, it’s getting kinda obvious. Everyone’s talking about it. The girlfriends even have a bet going on.”

Luke felt heat creeping up his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, his gaze flickering back to Avery, who had just spun around to face him, catching his eye for a brief moment, sending him a wink before turning back to the conversation.

“Dude! She painted the fucking sky from the night of your first date.” He definitely shouldn’t have told him that.

”It wasn’t a date” Luke quickly interrupted.

“That’s not the point and you know it” Jack quickly replied. God his brother was totally blind.

Luke opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat as Avery started making her way toward him, the crowd parting around her. She reached him with a smile, her presence like a sudden warmth.

“Hey,” she said, her voice light but with that familiar undertone that always made Luke's heart skip. “I thought I saw you standing over here looking like you were about to start a nap. Want to join me for a drink?”

Luke swallowed, trying to act casual. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Avery raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between him and Jack. Was this the same guy who a few days prior had told her he was counting the days to see her again?

“You sure? It’s New Year’s Eve, Luke.”

Jack grinned, leaning in a bit too close. “I think he’s just waiting for the perfect moment to be alone with you.”

Luke shot him a glare, but Avery just laughed, her gaze lingering on him a moment too long. "Alright, well, if you change your mind, I'll be over there," she said, her voice sounding small as she turned back to the crowd.

Luke couldn’t help but watch her walk away, the way she moved effortlessly through the room, her golden heels tapping lightly against the floor. Jack was still beside him, practically vibrating with amusement.

"So," Jack started, "when are you going to admit it?"

Luke didn't answer, not sure what there was to admit. Was it that obvious? Would it be so terrible to just let himself admit that he maybe, kind of... wanted more than friendship?

“Clock’s ticking,” Jack said, leaning close so only Luke could hear. “Gotta make your move before midnight.”

Luke swallowed hard. Midnight was coming, and with it, the promise of a new year. He just had to decide if he was brave enough to take the leap.

–

A couple of hours had passed and Luke was yet to approach Avery. Not even the few drinks he had on him could make him make the move.

The music had only gotten louder and the crowd more energetic, but Luke stood there, nursing his drink, stuck in his own head. The whole party felt like a blur. He kept glancing at Avery, but she was lost in conversation with his friends and teammates, her laughter bright, her smile even wider.

How had they gotten here? So many times, he thought he'd almost said something, but then it was always too late.

Luke couldn’t shake the image of that moment at her apartment, the way her lips had almost brushed his, how the air between them had changed. It felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it was only a few weeks. Still, the memory was enough to make his heart ache with longing. The almost kiss. They’d both backed away. He was unsure. What if he messed this up?

The clock on the wall behind him blinked closer to midnight, the seconds ticking away, each one mocking him. The world seemed to be holding its breath. Half an hour til midnight.

Luke watched Avery again. This time, she was glancing over her shoulder, her expression softer, more knowing. Something had shifted. Her gaze lingered, just for a moment longer than it should have.

The seconds kept ticking away.

Luke stepped away from the bar, the weight of his hesitation sinking in deeper. He couldn't stay like this forever. His eyes scanned the room one more time, but before he could dwell on the situation, he found himself moving toward Curtis, who was standing near the champagne table.

“Rusty!” Curtis spotted him almost immediately, his face lighting up with a knowing grin. “You look like a man who’s trying to avoid something,” he said, raising his cup toward him in greeting.

Luke gave a small, strained smile, leaning against the table next to Curtis. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Curtis cocked his head, clearly curious. “Avoiding something? Or someone?”

Luke looked over at the dance floor where Avery was, her smile so effortlessly magnetic. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I keep thinking about... everything that’s happened. What if I mess this up? We have such an amazing friendship going on…” He hesitated before continuing, “I don’t know if I can just... risk it,” Luke muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I’ve been avoiding this for so long, and I don’t want to mess things up."

Curtis took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Look, you’ve got something real with her. But if you want more, you’ve got to be willing to risk it. The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be. She’s not going to just magically know how you feel if you don’t show her.

I’m not saying you need to spill your heart out right this second, but you’ve got to do something, or you’re gonna keep wondering what might’ve been.”

Curtis’s words hung heavy in the air, cutting straight through Luke’s spiral of self-doubt. He knew Curtis was right. Hell, Jack had been saying the same thing for months, teasing him relentlessly about Avery. But hearing it now, in this moment with Avery standing just across the room, radiant and out of reach—it hit differently. More urgently.

Luke exhaled, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

Curtis smirked. “Of course I’m right.”

“No, seriously,” Luke said, straightening up. “I’ve been stuck in my head for months, maybe years, making excuses. I’ve got to—” He glanced across the room toward Avery. “I’ve got to go talk to her.”

Curtis grinned wide, stepping aside with a sweeping gesture. “Then what the hell are you still doing standing here? Go!”

Luke didn’t need to be told twice. His heart pounded as he started weaving through the crowd, eyes locked on Avery. She was still near the dance floor, her laugh floated above the music, bright and familiar pulling him in like a magnet.

Just walk over. It’s not that hard.

Except it was that hard. His mind raced as he made his way through the crowd, replaying their moments together like a film reel on a loop. The late-night conversations. The way she teased him about art. Her smile when she saw him at the rink, bundled up in layers but still radiant. The way she’d looked at him that night in her apartment, their almost-kiss lingering between them.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore. He was in deep.

He moved faster, weaving past clusters of people, but the party seemed determined to work against him.

“Yo, Lukey!”

Luke’s head snapped up, spotting Brett near the bar. His teammate waved him over, his grin wide and sloppy. He was clearly a few drinks in, already flushed from champagne and laughter. “Come do a shot with us, man!”

Luke gave a quick shake of his head, backing away. “Not now. I’ve got… uh, something to do.”

But Brett wasn’t letting him off that easy. He stumbled closer, throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s New Year’s Eve! You’ve gotta celebrate!”

“I’ll catch you later,” Luke said, prying himself free.

Brett squinted at him, then followed his gaze toward the dance floor. His grin turned knowing. “Ohhh. I see.”

Luke didn’t bother answering. He was already moving again, dodging another group of people passing out noise-makers and party hats. The clock was ticking, each second slipping through his fingers faster than he could catch it.

Each interruption felt like a small eternity, and with every delay, his anxiety climbed higher.

Come on, come on...

But fate seemed intent on making him wait longer.

“Luke!”

Another voice. This time it was Dawson, cutting through the crowd to greet him with a quick bro hug. “Where’ve you been, man? Haven’t seen you all night.”

“I’ve been around,” Luke muttered, already looking past him toward the dance floor. Avery was still there, her head tilted in laughter. Jesper’s fiancee leaned in, saying something to her, but Avery’s gaze drifted, like she was scanning the crowd.

Their eyes met.

Luke froze. For a second, everything else melted away. The noise. The crowd. The distractions.

It was just Avery.

His heart thudded harder with each step, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The party felt like a maze, bodies shifting and moving around him, every second feeling like an eternity.

The countdown clock near the DJ booth read 11:54.

Six minutes.

Luke’s pulse quickened. His fingers flexed at his sides as he made his way toward Avery, his path finally clearing.

Then—

“Champagne?”

A server appeared out of nowhere, thrusting a tray of glasses toward him. Luke blinked, startled, before shaking his head. “No, thanks.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, he broke free from the crowd and reached the edge of the dance floor.

Avery was gone.

Panic flared in his chest.

No. No, no, no!

His eyes darted around the room, scanning for any sign of her. The crowd shifted and swayed with the music, voices growing louder as the countdown drew closer. He spotted Jack near the bar, laughing with a group of friends. Curtis was still at the champagne table, arm draped around his wife's shoulder.

And then—

There she was.

Near the hallway, just outside the bathroom door, Avery stood with her back against the wall, tapping her golden heel softly against the floor. Her back was turned, but he’d recognize her anywhere. The tilt of her head, the way she shifted her weight, the calm patience in her stance as she waited for the bathroom to free up. It was all so distinctly Avery.

Luke exhaled in relief, his chest loosening.

Five minutes.

This was it. No more interruptions. No more waiting.

As he got closer, Avery glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye. She looked surprised to see him, but there was something else in her expression too, something curious. Something hopeful.

He stopped a few feet from her, nerves bubbling up again. His hands flexed at his sides, sweat gathering in his palms.

“Avery,” he called out softly, his voice cutting through the distant hum of music and chatter from the party.

She turned fully toward him, her eyes locking on his. “Hey.” Her voice was warm, familiar. It steadied him.

Luke stepped closer, feeling the weight of every unsaid word hanging between them. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said, his voice quieter now, but steady.

Avery tilted her head, studying him with that same calm curiosity she always had. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His pulse raced. Now or never.

The bathroom door opened, and someone slipped past Avery, giving Luke a quick glance before disappearing back into the party. Avery glanced at the door briefly, then back to Luke, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

“Are you cutting the bathroom line, or is this about something else?” she teased lightly, her eyes sparkling.

Luke smiled despite the knot of nerves tightening in his chest. “Something else.”

The crowd in the main room erupted into cheers as the final minutes melted into seconds.

The countdown clock glowed from across the room.

11:59.

The energy shifted, growing more electric, more urgent. But Luke barely noticed. “I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said quietly.

Avery’s expression softened, the teasing edge fading. “Wait for what?”

Luke took another step closer, his heart hammering.

“You.”

The words were out before he could second-guess them. They hung between them, raw and honest. Avery’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening in surprise.

The countdown began.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Luke’s breath hitched. The noise around them blurred into static. It was just her.

“I need to tell you something before midnight,” he murmured, his voice low but urgent.

Avery’s gaze never wavered. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’m listening.”

“Seven… six…”

Luke swallowed hard, taking another step closer.

“I—”

“Five… four…”

The crowd cheered, voices rising in unison, but Luke only saw her.

There was no time.

Luke closed the distance between them in one swift motion, his hand brushing her cheek as he leaned in. Avery’s eyes widened for a quick moment before fluttering shut, her breath hitching as their lips met.

It all melted away. The noise of the party, the countdown, the world beyond them.

Her lips were soft, warm. Everything felt like it finally clicked into place. The years of longing, the months of tension, the lingering glances, the almost-kisses—it all led to this.

Avery responded instantly, her hands slipping up to his shoulders as she pressed closer. Luke’s heart pounded in his chest, but all he could focus on was her. How right it felt, how long he’d been waiting for this.

His mind was just screaming her name.

Avery. Avery. Avery.

The crowd behind them erupted into cheers as the clock struck midnight. Confetti burst into the air, streamers flying across the room, but neither of them noticed.

Avery tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in the nape of his neck twisting his curls. Luke let out a groan, his grip tightening on her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

When the cheers grew louder and people started spilling into the hallway, Luke’s mind snapped back. They needed to move, needed privacy, needed to not have their moment interrupted.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently tugged her toward the bathroom door, pushing it open and pulling them both inside. The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the sounds of the party outside.

Avery broke the kiss for a second, breathless, her eyes searching his.

“Happy New Year?” she whispered, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Luke let out a shaky laugh, resting his forehead against hers. “Happy New Year.”

Their lips met again, more urgently this time. Luke backed her against the counter, his hands sliding down to her waist, feeling the fabric of her dress beneath his fingers as he moved it upwards.

He then moved his lips to her neck. Avery tugged him closer, tilting her head back to give him more access.

Luke’s lips brushed her lips before trailing down to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Avery closed her eyes, her head tilting back to give him more access, a quiet moan escaping her when he nipped gently at her skin.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Avery traced her fingers along his jaw, her touch soft and grounding.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luke laughed softly, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

She smiled, her eyes shining. “I think I do.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had just happened settling between them. The tension that had simmered for months was gone, replaced by something new.

“I guess we missed the countdown,” Luke murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

Avery shrugged, her fingers still tracing slow circles on his chest. “Who needs a countdown anyway?”

Luke leaned in, pressing another kiss to her lips, this time slower, savoring every second.

It was a new year, a fresh start, but neither of them could have imagined what this year had in store.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes series #new jersey devils #nhl fic #lh43

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90shetfield · 2 days ago

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Lessons - Jason Newsted x f!Y/N

When Y/N gets the opportunity to learn bass from Jason Newsted she takes it, excited to be learning from her literal idol. Is it only lessons though? Or is there something more to it as soon as she sets eyes on him..

Genre: Fluff W/ some suggestive themes at the end!

Word Count: 1376

Lessons

1991

You’ve always wanted to learn an instrument just not sure which one you would see. All these guitarists melting peoples faces off with their earth shattering distorted noise as they rip through a solo. Sure that was cool, but it just wasn't for you. The guitar is always an instrument that everyone wants to play. You much prefer being in the background focusing on laying down the rhythm section

Then the Bass came to mind. The bass could be one of those show off instruments or it can just be a foundation and you loved that. The low tones as you pluck the E string with your finger still not calloused yet from inexperience. Everything about this instrument made you more and more obsessed by the day. The all black matte body with a mahogany fretboard, every time you saw your bass in the corner of the room you would smile at how pretty it is.

Just one problem… You didn't know how to play it.

At all…

Sure you know that you can use your fingers as a walking pattern or even a pick, but you’re especially starting from nothing. None of your family members play instruments or even listen to that much music so you couldn't ask any of them. The next step was to find someone to help you learn the basics or even more to the instrument.

That's why you’re sitting in a random room in this guy's house while he gets something you can't even remember what he was getting. The room was filled with band posters and had a few stands for his basses. Some papers were scattered around leaving your eyes to gaze. One of the papers had a title on it called “my friend of misery”

Now you knew he was in Metallica trying so hard not to fangirl over THEE Jason Newsted but every time you saw his long curly locks or his grayish blue eyes you’d remember that the whole reason you’re learning this instrument was seeing how he played it. When you would watch their videos or interviews on MTV your eyes would be locked on the quiet and reserved bassist.

You heard the sound of the door opening, there he was flipping his hair out of the way handing you a bottle of water. You take it, cracking it open and sipping a little before placing it down on the floor.

“Sorry the rooms a little messy” He sighs trying to make it look a little presentable for you. He runs a hand through his hair letting out a soft grunt realizing he's not gonna get it all cleaned in 30 seconds. He sits down in front of you giving you a small smile.

“Oh don't worry about it Mr. Newsted!” you respond a little nervous, not even a little you were really nervous. From what you’ve heard he doesn't want anybody in his house for lessons. Somehow he still let you come though. Just the thought of that made you blush a tiny bit.

“You don't have to call me that, you can just call me Jason” He lets out a small laugh, grabbing one of his basses from the stand. Both you and Jason’s basses look almost identical, whether you did that on purpose or not, we’ll never know.

“Okay, so how much do you know about the bass?” His soft voice gives you reassurance, that it's okay that you don't know anything. “I-i- actually don't really know anything, I know you usually don't take people for lessons due to how you're a famous rockstar and everything but im really struggling. I decided to learn this really late” You look to the side avoiding his promising gaze. It's embarrassing to be such a beginner in front of a literal bass god!

He holds your chin in his hands lifting your face up. He smiles at you again immediately making all the thoughts of not being good enough disappear with one touch. Your cheeks flush up a slight hint of a dusty pink. God you hope he doesn't see how his touch is making you feel.

“Listen, I don't normally take people in general. Fame or not, but you have potential. I can see it. You’ve got connections how else would you have contacted me, you went for me instead of all the other bassists in the world I like you” He releases your chin from his grasp softly not wanting to hurt you. Your cheeks flush up even more. “Shit he can totally see it now” you tell yourself.

That was true, Your good friend used to work with Metallica actually and recommended Jason. She asked and he agreed on it surprisingly. Jason Newsted always just likes to sit back and be his own shoulder. You can tell that bothers him a lot though, being so alone at times.

“Okay enough of that let's get started!” Jason inched his chair closer to you resting his hand on his thigh.

“Do you know what an e string is?” You nod hitting the first string, The lowest one. His face lights up already looking so proud for such a little thing. He runs through the rest of the open notes with you doing little mannerisms that you pick up on. Everything he does is cute, the way he would guide your fingers to a string or when he would bite his lip in anticipation yelling out joyfully when you did get it.

----

Finally as the clock struck 8 pm he wanted to teach you a simple scale but you couldn't get it no matter what you did. Probably because your fingers hurt really bad being sore and aching from the non stop playing they’ve endured.

“Shit! Sorry Jason, I don't know whats getting over me” You answer honestly feeling scared that you couldn't get it.

“Here let me just show you” He gets up, gets behind you and kneels down. You feel his hot breath on the side of your neck as you tense up. Not because you were weirded out but because you were in such a close position with Jason. He took your hand in his placing your fingers on every single fret guiding you towards it. With every note change the air would get thicker and thicker.

His face turned to look at you. His eyes looking down at your lips then back up at your eyes. The grey tint in them almost makes them look mysterious. His lips part not wanting to look away from you. Your eyes flutter, taking your hand and wrapping it around his long hair.

“Y/N..” he muttered, clearly feeling this too.

“J-Jason” You inch your face closer to his seeing if he’ll take the bait.

He trails your jawline with his rough calloused finger looking at you deviously. He gripped your arm tightly probably leaving marks later but you really didn't care. All you could think about was how he tasted

What are you doing though Y/N!? Yeah he's cute and he's just your type, but he's your mentor, the man you looked up too. You’re his student and he's the teacher. You guys might be the same age but it just doesn't feel right.

At the same time it feels so right… Like you’ve wanted this ever since you saw them live a couple of months ago.

You needed this, and clearly so did he because his lips crashed into yours pushing your bass out of the way he climbed on top of you still kissing you needily. Your bass ended up somewhere on the floor as you and Jason made out. He pulled away panting. His cheeks red and flustered with his soft pink lips. He looked like a mess and god was it hot.

“I'll see you next week then huh?” he giggled still catching his breath, he pecked your cheek before getting up from off of you running a hand through his hair again. The pink on both our cheeks is not going away anytime.

“Yeah next week” You respond tilting your head back trying to hide how happy you were.

Sorry if this is short or just not up to expectations!! I might make a part two depending how this goes!! I have a lot of other fics to finish and post so I'll be back for a little while but I'll probably be taking a break again just this fic was already finished so I thought I'd post it.

tysm for reading I love you all!! </3

-Maxine

#metallica #metalhead #rockstar #80s bands #jason newsted #metal music #james hetfield #kirk hammett #lars ulrich #papa het #metallica x reader #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jason newsted x reader #jason newsted x you #jason newsted fluff #writeblr #fanfiction

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indeedcaptain · 10 months ago

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Regulatory Relations, chapter 15: the miners

Hi, everyone!! I hope you're having a beautiful weekend.

Thank you for your patience, both with this chapter and with me being dramatically less responsive on here and tumblr recently. I’m on a project at work that is kicking my ass professionally and emotionally, but at least it ends in two weeks and I hope I can be a little more present after that. Please accept my apologies that I haven’t responded to any of your beautiful comments :(

I left this fic unrated for a reason. Explicit content ahead! If that’s not your jam, skip from the second star section break to the third. Otherwise, enjoy ;)

Thank you so much for being here and reading along with this adventure. I hope you like this chapter.

Also posted on AO3 here.

☆☆☆

“If anyone gets this message, please. Help us.”

Kirk, Spock, and the beta shift bridge crew stood in silence as Overman Dima Marcus’s cry for help echoed through the room. Marcus panted as a third explosion rocked the frame, and he fell out of focus. He looked over his shoulder. The video ended.

“Play it again,” Kirk ordered, and Ortiz restarted the video. The rise and fall of static, the explosions, and Marcus’s dire message played again over the viewscreen. Kirk read the haggard, gaunt, fearful face of the overman, and he saw his hunger. The tendons of Marcus’s neck were too prominent, even in the shadowed image of the video. Kirk’s own bones ached in recognition, and in the crevasses of Marcus’s face he saw his own, and Kevin’s. In the nervous, twitching glance over his shoulder, Kirk saw Laika sprinting to the treeline on the outskirts of town. He pushed his fearful recognition somewhere dark and cold in the back of his mind, until it was just Dima Marcus, dirty and alone, on the screen in front of him. His memories of Tarsus were too close to the surface, skittering over his skin after the conversation in Bones’s office, and he fought to focus on the problem at hand.

Kindinos wasn’t Tarsus. But Dima Marcus looked like he was starving.

Ortiz paused it at the end. Kirk heard the turbolift door open behind him, and he stifled his nervous twitch as he said, “Metadata for the video?”

“Pretty degraded, sir, but recorded within the past one hundred hours and transmitted from the heading of 106 mark 8, sir.”

“Helmsman?”

The helms officer tapped the console and looked back at Kirk. Kirk met his gaze as steadily as he could. The beta shift crew rarely saw situations as serious as this one--- he would not allow his fear to trigger their own. “106 mark 8 is the heading for Kindinos VI from here, sir.”

“Have we received anything to indicate that this recording is in any way falsified or illegitimate?”

The beta shift bridge crew paused, looking amongst themselves, and then Lieutenant Karros in the center chair said, “No, sir.”

Kirk finally turned and looked over his shoulder, unsurprised to see admirals April and Pike waiting by the lift. April’s face was stony as Kirk said, “Helmsman, set a course for Kindinos VI at warp four, and get Scotty back up here or into Engineering as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We may have had radio silence from Kindinos because something went wrong, admiral,” Kirk said, holding April’s eye contact. “I’ll send Yeoman Rand to work with you to get your schedule fixed as close to correct as possible, but your reports are going to be delayed by a few days.”

April stared at him, grinding his teeth, before saying, “Understood, captain.” But the man’s open hostility barely registered as he stepped down to the main chair. Karros stood to offer it to him, but he waved her off, forcing his motions to be casual.

“Lieutenant Ortiz, put me on shipwide comms, please.” He waited until her signal, and then spoke. “Crew of the Enterprise, this is your captain speaking. We’ve received a distress signal, and we are answering its call. Officers Uhura, Giotto, Spock, McCoy, and Rand, report to the ready room. Lieutenant Scott, report to bridge. All others, be prepared for new orders. We’ll arrive in the Kindinos system in---” He turned to look at the helmsman, who mouthed ‘ten hours’--- “ten hours, at which point I will have more details to share. Kirk out.”

“Lieutenant Karros, keep the conn until the end of your shift,” Kirk said, and she nodded resolutely. “Let me know if we receive any more signals from anything in that direction.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and the beta bridge crew around her nodded resolutely. Kirk strode back towards the turbolift. As he passed the comms console, he said, “Ortiz, could you please---?” He cut himself off as she handed him a data chip.

“The video data, sir?” He took it from her and offered her an approving head nod.

“Well done, lieutenant, that’s exactly right.” She looked down to hide her smile at the praise, and he pocketed the data chip. Spock followed him to the turbolift.

“Admirals, if you would like to attend this briefing, please feel free to do so.” Pike followed Kirk and Spock into the turbolift, and April stepped in afterwards. The admirals stood in front of Kirk and Spock, all four facing the doors, and the only person who noticed that Spock gently wrapped his hand around Kirk’s wrist and squeezed was Kirk. He glanced at Spock, who met his eyes, and the contact helped center him back into himself, just a little bit.

When they entered the conference room, Kirk’s officers were already waiting. Kirk looked over his assembled department heads, his hand-picked and trusted crew, and was grateful to see them. He took his place at the head of the table, Spock at his right hand, and slid the data chip into the room’s computer.

“We received this message just moments ago,” he said, and hit play. He forced himself to watch as Marcus’s message rang through the room, and he let it play twice before shutting it off and turning back to his crew. Pike had rolled his chair up to the table, sitting beside Uhura, and April sat at the far end, opposite Kirk. His dark eyes were inscrutable.

“Uhura, here,” Kirk said, and slid the data chip to her. She scooped it neatly off the table. “Beta bridge crew said they didn’t see anything funny about the message, but I’d like you to triple-check their work, just in case. Anything you can tell me about the location of the recording, any of the ambient sounds, especially those explosions, or Marcus himself would be great. We don’t know if the problem is conflict or natural disaster, and I’d like to have that information before we go planetside.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and something in her eyes was already going far away, as if she were listening to the message from Marcus in her head again. He turned next to the good doctor, who was watching him too carefully.

“Bones, I’d like ready kits for as many nurses as you think you can stand to send down, one we know what we’re walking into. If it’s a natural disaster, that’s one thing, but if we’re heading into a war zone, we’ll send security first and then triage.” Bones nodded, already tapping on his padd to send instructions down to Sickbay.

“Giotto, we’ll need teams, but I’m not sure how many---”

“We’ll be able to field at least ten teams of four for a conflict zone, or we could do twenty of two if we’re just looking for survivors.”

“That’s great, Sal, that sounds right to me. Let’s plan for the worst, just in case, and we can split up on the ground if it turns out that way.” Kirk’s mind flicked through the possibilities based on what he knew about Kindinos and dilithium mines, and ran through the consequences of the most likely scenarios. He was hitting an obstacle, though: Kindinos wasn’t in Federation space, and he had very little knowledge to fall back on.

“Mr. Spock. Any information on this planet, the mine, cultural rifts that could cause conflict, any history of physical instability where the mine was built, or any evidence of foul play would be great. I doubt we’ll be able to get any clear information from the residents once we get there, not at first, and I’d like to be prepared for anything.” Spock inclined his head, calm and collected, and even just seeing him sitting at his right hand recentered Kirk further. Kindinos wasn’t Tarsus, and they were going to be ready to help.

Kirk turned to the last officer at his table. “Yeoman Rand, taking this mission is going to severely disrupt our current schedule. I’d like you to work with Admiral April to reprioritize our next round of orders. It’s unclear how long we’ll be in orbit around Kindinos at the moment, so as much leeway as you can provide would be helpful.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and nodded to April down the table. April inclined his head in turn, but his eyes flicked back to Kirk.

“Alright,” Kirk said. “We have ten hours until we’ll get there, any other crises notwithstanding. Rand, could you send someone to make sure Scotty gets some sleep when he’s done checking everything over in Engineering? I don’t want him down there all night.” She nodded, pulling out her padd to tap out a message to one of her minions. “We’ve got a little under ten hours until we arrive, and there is almost nothing that we can do for these people in the meantime. You’ve got your orders, but get some sleep, and make sure your people get sleep. Report anything you find or learn directly to me and Spock. Dismissed.”

His officers stood and filed out of the conference room. Their focused, professional determination imbued the air, and Kirk inhaled it like oxygen. Janice strode ahead to fall in step with April, and Pike hung back until Kirk and Spock stepped out.

“If you’ve got any insight here, Chris, I’d love to hear it,” Kirk said.

“Nothing useful, I’m afraid,” Chris said. “I’ve never been out that way before. But I wanted to offer--- if you need any logistics assistance, put me in. An extra brain never hurts on a lifesaving mission.”

An idea sprung to mind fully formed, and it chased away some of the ache in his bones that had started the moment he saw Marcus. “Actually, that would be great,” Kirk said, and he turned to Spock. “Has Chris seen your revision?”

“6245-B? No.” The empathetic shift in Spock’s face was infinitesimal, but Kirk saw the second he realized what Kirk intended. He nodded minutely.

“We’re trying something new,” Kirk said, turning back to Chris. “We took on extra unreplicated food stores in case of emergency, and it seems as though we’re going to test a hypothesis sooner rather than later. I’ll send you the inventory, and it would be great if you could think through the most efficient way to distribute it, so that we’re not relying on the replicators. From the looks of Marcus, the people on Kindinos are going to need it.”

“You’ve got it, captain,” Chris said, and Spock pulled out his padd to send him the documents. With a ding of his padd, Chris acknowledged their receipt, and after a brief ‘goodnight’ he followed the rest of the staff back towards the turbolift that would take him to his quarters. Kirk watched him depart before he turned towards the lift that would take him back to the bridge.

Spock halted him with a hand around the wrist. His hand was warm. “Your own orders were to rest, sir,” he said.

“I just wanted to---”

“And you ensured that Lieutenant Karros would maintain command for another four hours.”

“I was just going to see if they needed anything,” Kirk said. He looked up, meeting Spock’s eyes, and he knew Spock saw him, and understood.

“Admirable, captain, but unnecessary.” Spock paused. “And you have not yet eaten dinner.”

As if on cue, Kirk’s stomach rumbled, and though Spock did not look down at the source of the noise he did allow himself a slight eyebrow raise.

“I can’t sit and do nothing, after seeing that message,” he said, and pulled his wrist from Spock’s grip to take his hand instead.

“Preparing is not ‘doing nothing.’ You and the rest of the crew will be of more use to the miners if you are fed and rested,” Spock said, and he allowed Kirk to entangle their fingers as he directed them both towards his designated turbolift.

“And yourself, Mr. Spock?”

“Vulcans require less sleep and sustenance than humans, captain,” Spock said.

“Does that mean you don’t want to eat dinner with me, then?” The quip rolled off his tongue. Each step with Spock’s hand in his took him further from the shock that had frozen him on the bridge.

Spock paused, affronted, and Kirk laughed.

“That is not what I said,” he said stiffly, and followed Kirk into the turbolift.

“Alright, then,” Kirk said, and grinned as he pulled Spock towards him. “Officer’s quarters,” he said to the lift as the doors slid shut, and then he towed Spock all the way to him until they were nose to nose. Spock inhaled as Kirk tilted his head up to kiss him, and by the time the lift doors opened again they were both breathless.

☆☆☆

They had only left the quarters a little over twelve hours previously, and yet returning to it with Spock, knowing that he would stay the night, cast the entire suite in a new light. Spock’s robes hanging in his closet, Spock’s crinoid fluttering among his books, Spock’s boots next to his next to the door--- every detail of Spock’s existence in the space that he had inhabited alone for years soothed the ragged edges of his mind. Spock insinuated himself on the couch, pulling every available padd towards himself to research, as Kirk replicated dinner for them--- plomeek soup for Spock, a turkey sandwich for himself. He crossed to join Spock with their food, setting it on the coffee table in front of them, and they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch, reading through the ship computer’s resources on Kindinos VI. The file was astonishingly sparse for a planet that supplied one of the Federation’s most valuable resources.

“There’s effectively nothing here,” Kirk said, as they got to the bottom of the document. “That’s all?” Spock frowned and scrolled back to the top.

“It seems so, captain,” Spock said, and tapped irritatedly at the search bar. Kirk watched as he tried various other options--- information on the system, the mining company, Dima Marcus himself--- but nothing further came up. “Not even a geological survey,” he said.

“It might be proprietary to the mining company, depending on who owns the planet. It’s not technically in Federation space.”

Spock hummed in acknowledgement. “We will need to exercise caution, Jim.”

“I always exercise caution.”

Spock’s eyes cut to him, but he didn’t refute the comment. “Depending on the source of the unrest, a Federation starship may not be a welcome visitor.”

“How do you mean?”

Spock leaned back against the couch, eyes thoughtful, and crossed his legs. His bony knee pressed into Kirk’s thigh. “The planet was uninhabited before the dilithium was discovered. The only people who live there now are those who are employed by the mine. I assume you are familiar with the great union riots of the 2030s on Earth.”

“I am,” Kirk said, suddenly aware of where Spock was going and uneasy with it.

“If the conflict is between classes of employees, or perhaps miners and management, the arrival of a consumer of their product may be viewed as harmful to their business.”

Kirk frowned. “You’re right,” he said. “So we’ll come in gentle. We won’t mention the distress call until we get someone to talk to and hear a little more about what’s going on.”

“A reasonable approach, captain,” Spock said, and Kirk leaned back against the couch to brush their shoulders together.

“We were already headed that way for a wellness check,” he said. “We’ll keep that story, say we got concerned when comms broke down and just wanted to see how they were doing. No mention of any problems until we get a hold of someone on the ground.”

“I think that will be best, captain.” Spock swapped the padd in his hand for one of the others on the coffee table, and skimmed through the document; over his shoulder, Kirk could see the stark, clinical titles from his regulation revision. “Tasking Admiral Pike with implementing the revision was logical.”

“If you let him hear you call him admiral again, I think he might actually run you down. That chair can get some real speed, you know.”

“I will endeavor to protect my knees, captain,” Spock said, and Kirk coughed out a surprised laugh. Spock glanced at him as he leaned back against the couch, and turned back to his padd as he said, “Marcus’s appearance distressed you.”

The disagreement leapt to Kirk’s lips. He bit it back. He could be honest. Spock had earned that, deserved that, from him.

“We got the message today, but it could be three days old,” he said. “A lot can happen in three days.” Spock did not look at him, but his knee pressed insistently against Kirk’s leg, and Kirk leaned against him. “And if that’s what the overman looked like three days ago, four days once we arrive, what shape is everyone else in?” They sat in silence for a moment before Kirk forced himself to put voice to the fear that howled from the back of his mind.

“Are there children on Kindinos?”

“It is impossible to be certain,” Spock said quietly. “But I have found no evidence that there is anyone but the employees of the mining company on the planet.” Kirk chewed the inside of his lip. “We will be prepared to act immediately upon arrival, captain. We acquired sufficient foodstuff and have enough staff to respond as soon as we ascertain the needs of the people on the planet.”

Kirk turned over Spock’s words in his mind, pressing their shoulders together, drawing comfort from his proximity and his logical consideration of Kirk’s fears. He watched over Spock’s shoulder as Spock re-read the preliminary report on Kindinos, committing the scant information to memory.

“I do not believe there is any other information that I can acquire on the planet at this time,” Spock eventually said, and Kirk sat up and arched, stretching his back. He was beginning to feel how Spock had thrown him through the ache in his muscles, and remembered the tingle of Spock dragging his hands across his skin. He stood and crossed the room, swinging his arms to stretch his shoulders, before turning and sitting on the edge of his desk. He considered Spock as his eyes lifted to meet Kirk’s, pulling slowly away from the padd in his hands.

“A shower, I think, before bed,” Kirk said. “We both smell like the gymnasium.” His stomach twinged pleasantly as he recalled the way Spock had moved under his hands that morning and against him in the turbolift later, and he admired the way Spock looked, lounged on their couch with his long legs crossed in front of him. He felt again that strange magnetism that pulled his hands to Spock, even at this distance; he felt that irrepressible need to be close to him, to feel his skin against his. But he no longer felt the vague discomfort of guilt at the idea; his attraction had been joyfully reciprocated.

“If you don’t want to, or if it’s too soon, I understand,” Kirk said. He held Spock’s gaze. “But if you did want to, you could join me.”

Spock straightened, his padd coming to rest flat against his thighs. Color rose faintly on his cheeks, and his eyes dropped to the floor before he raised them again.

“I would like that,” he said, his voice quiet. Kirk smiled and crossed the room back to him as pleasure at the idea sparked to life inside him. He offered his hand. With only a second’s hesitation, Spock took it, and Kirk pulled him up off the couch and to the bathroom door. Spock followed him in as Kirk crossed directly to Scotty’s half of the bathroom and locked the other door.

☆☆☆

Spock stood on the tile of the bathroom floor in his stockinged feet, arms crossed in front of himself, face impassive.

“Hey,” Kirk said, and put both hands on Spock’s shoulders, the fabric of his science shirt smooth under his hands. “I was serious. We don’t have to.”

Kirk felt Spock’s shoulders rise as he inhaled through his nose, and he looked down between them as he said again, “I would like to.” But he paused, and even without telepathy Kirk could feel his apprehension vibrating beneath his skin.

“You haven’t done this before,” Kirk said.

“I have not,” Spock confirmed. “Though your use of ‘this’ is alarmingly vague.” Kirk grinned and shook him gently by the shoulders.

“You’re sure, though?” Kirk asked. “Because we can wait.”

“I am sure,” Spock said, and his voice was steadier. He met Kirk’s eyes again, his eyes scorching, and uncrossed his arms, reaching one hand to Kirk’s waist. Kirk slid his hands down from Spock’s shoulders, over his ribs, down to his hips, and slipped one finger under the hem of his shirt.

“May I?” Kirk asked, voice dropping low, and Spock nodded. He slid both hands under Spock’s tunic and pulled it over his head. Spock lifted his arms, his undershirt riding up with the motion to reveal the taut skin of his stomach, the shirt’s journey over his neat hair disturbing its perfect alignment. Kirk balled up the shirt and tossed it in the recycler before turning back to Spock to claim his undershirt and trousers. But Spock reached for him first. Watching his own hands as if committing the movement to memory, Spock pulled his command golds off, skimming his hands over Kirk’s sides as he lifted, and placed the shirt in the recycler with his own. Kirk stepped closer and slid both hands under Spock’s undershirt, pressing them flat against the warmth of Spock’s back. Spock closed his eyes and nodded, and Kirk pulled the undershirt off of him.

He had seen Spock shirtless a hundred times before, in locker rooms, on away missions, in Sickbay, but never like this. He had never seen Spock with his clothes removed by Kirk’s own hands; his chest hair dark against his pale skin, the leanness of his frame belying his strength. Unable to stop himself, Kirk pressed one hand against his stomach, and felt Spock’s heart beneath his palm.

“Still okay?”

Spock nodded, and his eyes darkened as he pulled Kirk’s undershirt off. He skimmed a hand along the line of his shoulder, and the soft touch gave him goosebumps. Spock ran one long finger along the bumps on his arm.

“Are you cold, Jim?”

Kirk laughed. “No,” he said, and hooked two fingers into the waistband of Spock’s trousers. He pulled, and Spock stepped towards him, bringing them within inches of each other. He was acutely aware of the uneven rise and fall of Spock’s chest, of the slight tremor in his own hands. Spock looked down, replacing the touch of one finger against his goosebumps with his whole hand, and his soft breath against Kirk’s ear made him shiver.

“Are you certain?”

“It’s not from the cold, Spock,” Kirk said, skin tingling under Spock’s hands, and he unbuttoned Spock’s trousers. His knuckles brushed the line of hair that trailed into Spock’s pants. Spock stepped out of them as Kirk pulled them down, placing one hand against the wall for balance. Kirk noted the spread of his fingers and flushed as his mind supplied an image of what Spock’s hands might look like, both pressed against the wall of the shower. Down, boy, he told himself. He was going to let Spock set the pace for whatever they did. But Spock stood before him in his boxers and socks, all long, lean lines and chest hair, and some of the nervous tension had left his gestures when he reached for the button of Kirk’s pants.

“May I?” Spock asked, his mouth next to Kirk’s ear, and when Kirk nodded, his nimble fingers made quick work of the fastenings. Kirk stepped out of his pants and tossed both pairs into the recycler. Spock reached for him, running his hand down Kirk’s arm, eyes following a similar path down the line of his throat and over his chest, lingering at his shorts. Spock exhaled sharply before bringing his hands to the waistband of his own shorts. He met Kirk’s eyes and raised one eyebrow, and Kirk’s mouth dried up as Spock removed the last of his clothing and stood bare before him. Spock, naked, was incredible to behold: every line of him elegant like a dancer, the thin trail of hair down his chest and stomach leading to his half-hard cock, flushed green and double-ridged.

“You’re beautiful,” Kirk said, and watched in fascination as a flush crept down Spock’s neck and across his chest. With Spock’s eyes glued to his hands, he slowly pulled his own shorts down and tossed them and his socks into the recycler. He stood before Spock’s gaze as it swept from his face, down over his torso, to his exposed cock and thighs, and back to his face.

“Jim,” Spock said, hoarse, and reached for him. His hand slid up Kirk’s shoulder, over and behind his neck, and pulled him in as Kirk slid his arms around his back. Their bodies collided as their lips met, and Spock brought both hands up to frame his face. Spock’s chest hair scraped his torso, his cock pressing against Kirk’s hipbone, and he shuddered as Kirk ran his hands from his shoulder blades to the curve of his ass, breathing hard against his mouth. Kirk pulled back to see his face, to gauge if he needed to slow down, but Spock chased him across the distance, eyes dark and intense, to kiss him again. Kirk sighed into Spock’s mouth at the brush of his tongue against his, his hands roaming over his back, and Spock pushed them backwards to press Kirk against the countertop. Kirk’s whole body sang at the pressure of Spock against him, his fingertips digging dimples into his skin. He could feel Spock hardening against him, the twitch of his hips as Kirk shifted, and he pulled one hand between them to press Spock backwards.

“Shower,” he said, and Spock nodded. Kirk crossed to the shower, setting the water to something he thought would be comfortable for both of them and testing it with his hand. Spock followed behind him. Kirk leaned back until his shoulders pressed against Spock’s chest, and rested his head back against Spock’s shoulder.

“You can touch me,” he said quietly. “However you’re comfortable.” Spock hummed his assent, the sound reverberating in his chest. He wrapped his arms around Kirk from behind, clasping his hands at his navel and dropping his head to press a kiss to the meat of Kirk’s shoulder. He dragged his lips from that point of contact, up his neck, to his ear, where he kissed the rounded top. Kirk shivered at his breath against the shell of his ear.

“God, Spock,” he whispered, and ran his hand along his forearm. He felt Spock’s minute tremble under the touch of his hand, felt his chest expand with a jagged breath against his back. He pulled away to step under the warm stream of water, letting it pour over his head for a second, before he turned back. Spock stared at him as he slicked his wet hair back. His hands hung open, empty, next to him, and he saw one twitch towards him. Spock’s eyes were wide and dark, drinking him in, and Kirk grinned broadly at him. Holding Spock’s gaze, he ran his tongue against his lower lip.

Spock surged towards him, meeting him under the water, wrapping both arms around him before pressing them both backwards. Kirk hissed into Spock’s mouth as his back hit the cold tile of the shower wall, arching towards him, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. Spock ground his hips against him, and the moan that escaped from somewhere deep in his chest set Kirk’s blood on fire. He opened his eyes and ran one hand over Spock, dragging down and catching one nipple with his thumb. Spock shuddered. Water dripped down his nose, and his mouth was half-open as his eyes fluttered shut; he was so beautiful that Kirk’s teeth ached with it. For a moment his head spun as he recognized, as if from outside of his own body, that he was in his shower, grinding his hard-on against his first officer-turned-husband’s. Minutes ago they had been in his quarters, talking about a mission, planning for the away team strategy over dinner, and now they were here, gasping into each other’s mouths. If this was marriage, he thought, then he was looking forward to many more years of it.

He slid his hand down further, and Spock opened his eyes. “Is this alright?”

Spock nodded, pressing their foreheads together, and Kirk ran his fingers up Spock’s thigh before slowly wrapping his hand around his cock. Kirk stared in wonder at the microexpressions that flickered across Spock’s face at the contact, as his eyes rolled back even as they slid shut, as his hand spasmed against Kirk’s back where it still held him. He started gently, rolling his wrist as he stroked loosely, and Spock’s hips twitched. His breathing was uneven, shallow and rapid, and when Kirk leaned forward to capture his mouth again Spock groaned into him. He swallowed the noise, pulling Spock’s lip between his teeth, sucking on his tongue, and the rhythm of his kisses grew more unsteady with every pass of his hand.

He twisted his hand slowly and Spock pulled one hand from behind Kirk’s back to plant it unsteadily against the wall of the shower. Kirk glanced at it in awe, at the water dripping down to his angular wrist from long fingers, splayed against the tile. He closed his hand over both ridges and swiped his thumb over the head, and he felt the sticky slide of precome on his hand as Spock dropped his head to Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk turned his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to Spock’s neck, running his unoccupied hand up to tease at his nipples, and Spock shuddered fully against him.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed. “I can’t believe--- I wasn’t sure---” He shut his mouth and turned his head, pressing a kiss to Spock’s wrist to prevent himself from saying anything unforgivably vapid, and increased the speed of his hand. Spock’s hips rocked in time with his movement, his breath coming harshly, and when he increased the pressure Spock keened quietly and pressed his mouth down against the meat of Kirk’s shoulder. He felt Spock begin to tremble, heard the voiceless whine catch in the back of his throat, and he continued the pace of his hand, bringing the other up to cradle the back of Spock’s head.

“Jim,” Spock said, wrecked and ragged, and Kirk kissed the side of his head. “I---” His trembling intensified, long thighs tensing; his lungs heaved like bellows, and the hand planted against the wall flexed unconsciously.

“Good,” Kirk murmured. “I want you to.” It was not lost on him that he was the first person to have ever seen Spock like this, held him and felt him like this, and he seared it in his memory: the deep timbre of his groan, the hitch in his breathing, the weight of his head on his shoulder, the way the hand that he still pressed against the small of Kirk’s back pulled him ever closer.

Spock came with Kirk’s hand wrapped around him, his face pressed into the crook of Kirk’s neck, pulsing up over Kirk’s fist and their stomachs. Kirk, more aroused than he had ever been in his entire life and so desperately in love that he thought his lungs might burst with it, stroked him through it and took more of his weight as Spock relaxed against him. For a moment Spock leaned into him, mouth pressed into his shoulder, Kirk’s shoulders pressed against the wall of the shower, and he ran his hands up and down Spock’s back, brushing from the crown of his head to the base of his spine. Spock’s breathing slowed, and he dropped his hand from the wall as he lifted his head to meet Kirk’s eyes.

“Hey, you,” Kirk said.

“Hello,” Spock said, and he tentatively brushed a lock of wet hair from Kirk’s forehead, fingertips skimming over his eyebrow. Kirk put his palm flat against Spock’s sternum, feeling the warmth of him, his once-again steady breathing, and pushed him further under the water. He stepped backwards, watching Kirk with those warm eyes, and Kirk pulled his washcloth from the rack and dispensed soap onto it. He lathered it up and met Spock under the water. Spock was pliant as he ran the washcloth over his shoulders, down his arms, and he allowed Kirk to manipulate him to get under his arms, running the cloth over his palms and down his chest.

“I am capable of cleansing myself,” Spock said, but there was no real rebuke in it.

“I know,” Kirk said. “But I want to do it for you.” He ran the cloth gently over his thighs, swiping between his legs, before pushing on one shoulder. Spock turned, allowing him unfettered access to his back.

Kirk swept the washcloth over the broad expanse of his fine-boned shoulders and said, “Will you indulge my curiosity for a moment?”

“Yes,” Spock said, and turned his head slightly to listen. Kirk ran the washcloth down his spine, trailing his other hand through the bubbles left behind.

“When did you know?”

Spock’s silence was contemplative, and Kirk waited. He ran the washcloth over Spock’s ribs and down his hips until it was clear that it was only an excuse to touch him, and even then continued.

“There is no ambiguity in relationships among my people,” Spock said. “Either there is already a bond, such as that between parents and child, or bondmates, and there is no question of what the relationship is; or there is no bond. Our telepathy, our culture, leaves very little room for the question of ‘what if.’” Kirk basked in his deep voice bouncing off the tiles, reverberating through the small space. “When we first met, I was betrothed. Though there was no affection between myself and T’Pring, I did not think that status would change. This was a miscalculation on my part, but one I find that I am now grateful for.”

Spock paused, and Kirk stayed where he was behind him, hands skimming up and down Spock’s arms. “You are my friend,” Spock said. “But I had never before known ambiguity in a relationship. I did not understand how the line between friendship and more may be blurred, and therefore did not recognize it when it happened. It was not until I was threatened with a future that did not include you that I realized that my sentiment had exceeded its original parameters.”

“Wait,” Kirk said, hands pausing in their steady rhythm at Spock’s wrists. “So then you already knew by the time I found out about the offer. You’ve wanted this… since the beginning?”

“That is correct.” Kirk squeezed Spock’s wrists and pressed his forehead to the back of Spock’s neck.

“I though…” Kirk’s heart felt like it was expanding in his chest as he reevaluated, day by day, the circuitous path that had taken them from his nervous proposal in Spock’s old quarters to this moment. “I thought you just didn’t want to leave the Enterprise.” Spock hummed, and Kirk felt it vibrate through him, where he was pressed to him.

“You were the one who assumed the Enterprise as the referent point,” Spock said, and Kirk could almost feel his amusement. “I simply did not correct you.” Kirk lifted his head and continued running his hands over Spock’s arms, feeling the strong lines of his muscle, the upright set of his shoulders.

“And you agreed to a fake marriage anyway? Even before knowing how this would go, even before I had caught up?” Kirk laughed softly, shaking his head. “Humans would call that being a glutton for punishment.”

“It is no punishment to be where I want to be, captain,” Spock said, and Kirk again pressed his head against his. “But after meditation and---” he cleared his throat, and Kirk looked up to see a faint flush of color on his cheeks--- “an illuminating series of conversations with Nyota, I believe I know when this… ambiguity began.”

“Will you tell me?” Kirk asked, and Spock turned in his arms. He took the washcloth from Kirk’s hand, applied more soap, and rubbed it to a lather.

“Babel,” Spock said, and slid the soapy washcloth over Kirk’s shoulders. Kirk watched him; watched the water drip over his eyebrows and cheekbones, down the line of his throat, over the steady movements of his hands.

“Even though I lied to you?”

“By saving my father from my decision, you preserved not only his life, but the wellbeing of my mother through her bondmate and any future possibility for me of repairing my familial bonds.” Spock ran the washcloth carefully over Kirk’s chest and stomach, wiping away the evidence of his orgasm, before turning Kirk around to wash his back. He said quietly, “That was the first time that I saw logic bow to kindness. And the first time that such a kindness had been extended to me.”

The rough fabric of the washcloth vanished, replaced by Spock’s hands, sliding over Kirk’s shoulders and down his arms. He stepped closer behind him, his chest against his back, his cheekbone pressed to Kirk’s temple. “When did you become aware?”

“I think it had been building for a while,” Kirk said, and let Spock take more of his weight against his chest as they stood beneath the water. “When April called me and told me about your promotion, I panicked. I wasn’t ready for you to leave. But it wasn’t until the night that I kissed you for the first time that I realized why I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Spock unclasped his hands, pressing them to Kirk’s stomach, pulling him closer. Kirk turned his head, pressing his forehead against Spock’s cheek. “But I think you knew that.”

“Any sense of ambiguity disappeared the night of our wedding,” Spock said, and Kirk could feel his voice through his chest, against his back. “When I took your hands.”

“Ah,” Kirk said, smiling, and lifted his hand to put it on the back of Spock’s head. “You mean I wasn’t successful in hiding my feelings from you that night?”

“You are many things, captain, but subtle is not usually one of them. What I felt from you, and what I felt in response…” Spock paused, pressed to him. “It was unambiguous.” They stood together under the shower for another minute, breathing in time with each other, before Spock inhaled deeply and slid his hand down through the hair on his stomach, towards his thighs.

“Spock,” Kirk whispered, as his body responded to the gentle touch. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Spock said, voice low in his ear. “But I desire to do it for you.” He wrapped one arm around Kirk, holding him back against his chest, and curled those long, graceful fingers around him in one unselfconscious move. He dropped his head back onto Spock’s shoulder as the water ran down his chest, Spock’s hands burning brands into his skin, his mouth pressing kisses into his neck, and the way Spock touched him made him feel brand new.

Had any of his previous lovers been so attuned to every twitch and sigh? Had he ever been so comfortable with someone, allowing them to care for him, without feeling the need to remove the center of attention from himself? He couldn’t remember the last time that he had allowed someone to focus entirely on him, insist on his pleasure, single-mindedly pursue it with that inhuman concentration--- but now he did. Spock chased his moans out of his mouth, turning him around to hold him against the wall and kiss him, hand moving ceaselessly on him, and Kirk held onto his shoulders and pressed his head against his neck and let Spock’s insistent rhythm push all other thoughts but him, him, him, yes, yes, yes out of his head.

☆☆☆

Dried and dressed, Kirk and Spock sat side-by-side in the bed, reading over the updates that Uhura and Giotto had sent. The security teams were ready, briefed on what little they knew about the mission, and would be ready to beam down with them as soon as they knew what was going on. Uhura had sent an audiological report that made Kirk uneasy: the audio in the recording was degraded, fuzzy after its travel through space, but it was her professional opinion that the video was legitimate and that the explosions in the background were not from military munitions but industrial machinery.

He didn’t know if that was better or worse.

“There could be some sort of geological disturbance,” Spock said, as Kirk leaned against him and scanned through Uhura’s report again.

“Or the miners could be weaponizing the machinery if they are fighting the management,” Kirk said, and Spock inclined his head in agreement. “I think we ought to beam down first,” he continued. “Before sending down the security teams. See if we can’t find someone to talk to, who might be able to give us more information. I don’t want to add more weapons into a volatile situation.”

Spock exhaled quietly through his nose. Kirk turned to him. “You don’t like my plan?”

“Your plan is sound,” Spock allowed. He looked at Kirk, warm dark eyes flicking between his own and the padd. “Is there any possibility of convincing you to remain aboard the ship until the situation on the ground has been ascertained?”

“Of course not,” Kirk said, narrowing his eyes. “You know I won’t order my crew into anything that I won’t go into myself.” Spock looked back to the padd in his lap before twining his fingers through Kirk’s.

“I know, captain,” Spock said. He was silent for a moment before he said, “I am going with you.” Kirk took one more glance over the reports from his team before he closed the padd and set it aside, leaning over to rest his head on Spock’s shoulder.

“I rely on it,” he said quietly. “On you coming with me.” So smoothly and gracefully he didn’t realize at first what he was doing, Spock slid them both down the bed until they were horizontal, laying next to each other.

“I must admit, illogical though it is, I do have a preference among the revelations from the past week.”

“A daring admission, Mr. Spock. Please, do tell.”

“The rule that the security team follows,” Spock said, the chocolate brown of his eyes warm in the light of their quarters. “That on away missions, they can trust that I will be where you are.” Beneath the comforter, Kirk lifted Spock’s arm to slide himself beneath it and lay his head on his shoulder. Such boldness, he thought, even as Spock adjusted to make room for him.

“That might be my favorite, too,” Kirk said. “That, or the nurses’ log.”

Spock hummed in consideration. “It was their log that first showed me that you treated me in the same manner that I treated you.”

Kirk lifted his head. “What do you mean?”

“After I became aware of my own affection, I assumed that you would not reciprocate. I had no evidence to the contrary, and I did not desire to assign meaning to the emotions transferred through your touch without more context.” Spock turned to meet his eyes. “I was unaware of how much time you spent in Sickbay when you were not required to be there.” Kirk lay back down and ordered the lights off.

“If you like, Mr. Spock, I’ll start waking you when you’re in Medbay and I come to see you,” Kirk teased. “So you can know when your captain is worrying about you.”

“A considerate gesture,” Spock said. “Might I suggest, however, spending less time in Medbay and more time practicing self-preservation?”

“Hey,” Kirk complained, curling closer to Spock’s warmth, thrilling at the way his hand slipped beneath his sleep shirt to press possessively against his hip. “I thought we were talking about you.”

“I believe we could ask Dr. McCoy to analyze who spends more time on a biobed,” Spock said. “If I am remembering correctly, you have spent at least 11.8% more time, comparatively---” His sentence ended rather abruptly as Kirk stretched up to kiss him instead, and he rolled towards Kirk immediately to place a hand against his face and kiss him in return.

As they broke apart and settled down to sleep, Kirk thought that he had just discovered a way to increase the number of future disagreements that he won quite considerably.

☆☆☆

Jimmy was back in the treehouse on Tarsus, during one of the early days. But he looked around at his sleeping kids, and there was one extra body laying on the wooden floor. He counted them again: Kevin and Mira and Ellie, then Tommy and Laika and himself. And then the last body, laying with his back to Jimmy, shivering in the light wind. Jimmy crawled over to him, quietly so as to not disturb the littles, and shook the stranger’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he said. “Who are you?”

Dima Marcus rolled over, face shrunken and skeletal with hunger, and whispered, “Help me.”

Kirk woke to the darkness of his own room, and to Spock’s hand sliding across the bed to find him.

“Are you distressed, Jim?”

“It was just a nightmare,” Kirk said, and he fought his instinct to squirm out from under that telepathic hand. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“Will you be returning to sleep?”

Kirk hesitated, and in the silence Spock read his answer. He heard Spock roll over to face him as he retracted his hand back to his side of the bed.

“Do you wish to discuss it?”

His immediate answer was no. His second answer was absolutely not. But his third answer was a little less defensive, a little more willing to share the burden. Three days ago he would have refused to open up. But tonight, in the dark, after Spock had proven over and over again that he was not going to leave, maybe he could bear a little vulnerability.

“It’s all too close to the surface,” he said. “I need more time. Two weeks ago, I don’t think Marcus would have rattled me at all. Today?” He scoffed a little. “After the past seventy-two hours? Everything reminds me of the colony.”

“What would you do, given more time?”

“I don’t know,” he said, rolling to lay flat on his back, staring at his familiar ceiling, cast in the light of his alarm clock. “Sort out this one problem, and then move onto other missions. Get my head on right again.”

“I believe your head is attached to your body correctly, captain,” Spock said solemnly, and Kirk huffed out a laugh before sliding his hand across the bed. Spock met it with his own, entwining their fingers gently.

“I spent years locking all this away so that it wouldn’t interfere with anything else,” Kirk eventually said. “I’m still glad to know the truth, or be closer to it. Or something. But I can’t help but feel that I would be better prepared for tomorrow if I hadn’t…” What? Unlocked everything that he had kept hidden away? Opened Pandora’s box of Starfleet conspiracies?

“In the years since I have come to know you, I have never feared that you would allow your emotions to disrupt your command. This has not changed.” Spock’s thumb traced a gentle line over the back of his hand, and Kirk lay on his back and breathed. “We will assist the people on Kindinos VI however we are able, and afterwards we will continue to investigate what you witnessed. But I do not think that your abilities have been diminished because you are now acknowledging an unresolved issue.”

Kirk squeezed his hand. “I’m worried about what all this will do to Kevin, too. To the other survivors.”

“I do not doubt that it will be a painful process. But if I may be forthright, captain, I believe a future in which the perpetrators are brought to justice would be preferable to a future in which the burden of secrecy remains with you.”

They lay in silence. Kirk listened to the steady rhythm of Spock’s breathing, and matched his own to it, and it helped to relieve the tension that had clenched his shoulders in the aftermath of his dream.

“I would still like to cross-reference Lieutenant Riley’s medical records with your own,” Spock said. “But I have also been thinking about other sources of clandestine information.”

“Oh?”

“When I was… involved, in some of Michael’s efforts, I became aware of Admiral April’s role as a liaison between Section 31 and the rest of Starfleet during the conflict. He made his distaste for the organization clear, but he may have useful information to offer from that experience.”

“April?” Kirk asked, the disbelief apparent in his voice, even to him. “That’s hard to imagine. If there were a pictographic representation of ‘hardass’ or ‘by the book’ in the dictionary, it would just be a picture of his face.” He sighed. “We’ll have enough quality time with him over the next two weeks, though. It’s a good idea.”

“We can request that he provide us with additional information about Section 31 as a wedding gift,” Spock said, and Kirk snorted in surprise laughter. He rolled over, away from Spock, but pulled him towards him by their connected hands. Spock obligingly draped himself over Kirk, burying his face in the back of his neck.

“Why the hell did Elise go to such lengths to keep me quiet, when you’ve been walking around with all these dangerous details for years?” Spock’s breath gusted softly against the fine hairs at the nape of Kirk’s neck, and he shivered lightly.

“I estimate that they assumed a betrothed Vulcan on a ship of humans would never build such a level of rapport as to share those details,” Spock said, and Kirk grinned in the darkness.

“A grave miscalculation,” Kirk said, and Spock’s arm tightened over his chest.

“Indeed.”

☆☆☆

Kirk was awakened the next morning, not by the harsh trilling of his alarm clock, but by a warm hand sweeping softly down the side of his face. He blinked awake. Spock sat on the edge of the bed, in uniform, leaning over him.

“Hello, Jim,” he said, and Kirk smiled.

“Hey, you,” he said. “Up early?”

“I meditated,” Spock said, and leaned back to allow Kirk to sit up and stretch, sliding out of bed around him and pressing a kiss to the shoulder of Spock’s shirt as he passed.

“Needed a respite from me and all my illogical human touching?”

Spock, turning to watch him cross to the closet and pull out his uniform, said, “Never.” Kirk grinned with no slight satisfaction as Spock, face carefully impassive but eyes hawkish, watched him strip out of his pajamas and step into his uniform. He finished dressing and came to stand in front of Spock, where he still sat on the edge of the bed. He stepped into Spock’s space, between his legs, and Spock let him push his knees apart. Kirk tilted his face up with two fingers, leaning down to him, and said huskily, “Big day ahead.”

Kirk could see the carefully restrained eye roll that he almost certainly deserved for the figure of speech, but Spock let him kiss him anyway, so he thought he might have been forgiven.

Kirk and Spock stepped out of their quarters into a tense and subdued atmosphere, and Kirk’s heart sank. The safe comfort of their room melted away as the crisis on Kindinos VI took center-stage in his mind, and he pushed everything but the people they might find, and the help they might need, to the backburner. They had a brief breakfast, with an extra cup of coffee, and then he strode onto the bridge with Spock a half-step behind to relieve the delta shift.

“Approaching hailing distance in thirty minutes, sir,” the delta helmsman said, as Sulu slid into his seat.

“Noted, thank you, helmsman,” Kirk said. The next thirty minutes passed in a blur of details: Giotto’s list of security teams, Uhura’s follow-up report on the details of Marcus’s accent, Spock’s more and more elaborate search queries returning nothing useful on Kindinos or the mining company.

Finally, Uhura said from behind him, “Hailing range of Kindinos VI, sir.” Kindinos was a drab little planet in the viewscreen; brown and red and gray, with no visible bodies of water or splashes of green to indicate plant life. According to the sparse report he had read the night before, Kindinos had a Class M atmosphere--- barely. It looked nothing like Tarsus, and yet there was an ache in his stomach that he couldn’t settle.

“Hail on all frequencies, Lieutenant.”

“Hailing, captain.” Kirk turned to watch her as she pressed her hand to her earpiece, head tilting as she listened to whatever reached them from the beyond. Half a minute passed. Kirk watched her, her eyes flicking over the console readouts, one hand dancing lightly on the frequency tuner, before she turned back to him.

“No response, sir.”

“Let’s try them again.” The bridge hushed around him as Uhura spun back to her console, deft hands flying over the controls with her bright silver earpiece sparkling under the lights. Another thirty seconds passed, her shoulders creeping upwards with tension as she listened. The silence on the bridge was oppressive. She pulled the piece from her ear and turned back.

“Nothing, sir. I can’t even get acknowledgement from their receiver.” Kirk ignored the way his stomach sank and turned to his first officer.

“What’s the population of the planet, Mr. Spock?”

“It had been uninhabited before the dilithium was discovered and the mine was built. Estimates place the population now at five thousand individuals, mostly human, all employees of Dextrum Mining Corporation.” Kirk nodded as Spock glanced over his shoulder at him, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. He stared at the little brown planet.

“Take us into orbit, Mr. Sulu,” he said. “We’re going to beam down and see if we can’t find anyone who can tell us a little bit about what’s going on.” He commed Giotto to have him meet them at the transporter with two teams. “Mr. Spock, with me. Sulu, you have the conn.”

The turbolift door opened. April and Pike exited. Eyes flashing immediately to the planet on the viewscreen, April asked, “Were you able to raise them?”

“No, sir,” Kirk said, and did his best to ignore April’s determination to be involved in ship’s business, despite his rank and protests of other work to do. “All frequencies, twice, nothing. We’re going down with security to see if we can find anyone to talk to.”

“I will join the away team,” April said, and stared Kirk down as if daring him to argue. Kirk considered it. But even if he told April he couldn’t participate, April would just override his orders. “I’ve met Dextrum’s owner before. An unpleasant man, but if he knows anything, he might be more likely to tell a familiar face.”

Kirk clenched his jaw. Did April miss the days when the Enterprise was his? Was he so desperate to prove that his relationship with Spock was bad for his command? But the admiral’s rank tied his hands.

He simply said, “Thank you, Admiral. Your familiarity will prove useful.” He and Spock crossed back to the turbolift, April following them, and nodded to Sulu as he replaced Kirk in the center chair. As they passed Chris, Chris met his eyes and glanced at the padd balanced on his chair.

“Logistics,” he said, and caught Kirk’s eye. Kirk nodded, and some of his tension lifted. Even if Kindinos was in famine, Spock’s regulation revision and Chris’s efforts would make it easier to distribute food. They would be prepared for whatever they found. Kirk would be prepared for whatever they found.

“Admiral, would you mind staying with Sulu? I’d appreciate you on deck if it comes to that.”

“Yes, captain,” Chris said, and navigated the hoverchair down to sit next to Sulu. Kirk, Spock, and April piled into the turbolift, and the doors closed behind them, erasing the bridge from their vision.

“Transporter,” Kirk told the lift, and it began its descent. There were two seconds of silence before April, glancing between them, said, “You’re both going?”

“Yes,” Kirk bit out. It was technically against regulation, and he knew it, and April knew he knew it, but he had also never been on a ship that actually followed that rule. April opened his mouth but Spock interrupted him, facing resolutely forward.

“As the highest-ranking science officer, and the only one with security and conflict certifications, it is logical for me to join away teams on potentially dangerous missions.”

April side-eyed him. “And the captain is going because…?”

“Kindinos VI is not in Federation space, and Dextrum Mining Corporation not a Federation organization. Captain Kirk is present as a representative of Starfleet and the Federation as a matter of diplomacy.” Spock did not say obviously out loud, but it was nearly impossible to miss through his tone, and Kirk suppressed his appreciative grin.

April exhaled loudly through his nose, but he didn’t say anything further, and the turbolift door opened to reveal a busy transporter room. Scotty stood at the control panel, scanning his readouts, as Giotto and eight security officers waited in body armor, checking and rechecking the environmental protection suits strapped to their backs. Giotto gave him a firm nod as they entered, but he wasn’t kitted out like the others--- he would manage their movements from the ship, where he could see all the teams’ movements.

“Admiral,” Giotto said, and shook his hand. Kirk slipped away to sidle up to Scotty at the controls, and Scotty smiled distractedly at him.

“Supervision, sir?” The Scotsman’s voice was quiet, and he glanced at the admiral.

“Seems so. He says he knows someone down there.”

“Aye, but it seems dangerous to send the brass into what might be a war zone,” Scotty said, leaning closer to drop his voice further.

“I agree, but I couldn’t exactly tell him no.” Kirk looked over at April again, who talked seriously to Giotto. He didn’t give off the impression that he wanted to relive his glory days as a starship captain--- and yet here he was, joining the away mission. Kirk felt something press into his hand, and he glanced down.

“Just in case,” Scotty said, and glanced between Kirk, Spock, and Admiral April. “It’s still untested, but in theory it should work.” In Kirk’s palm lay a heavy comms device; the prototype that Scotty had been working on the week prior, now soldered shut and seemingly operational. “Flip it open, hit the button, and we’ll try to get you out. Let’s try for just one at a time at first, though, hmm?”

“Thanks, Scotty,” Kirk said, and clasped his shoulder gratefully. “I hope we won’t need it.”

“I do too, sir,” Scotty said, and Kirk left him to return to Spock’s side, where the Vulcan gazed calmly over the assembled crew. He cleared his throat loudly, and the room fell silent around him.

“We were unable to contact the miners on Kindinos VI upon our arrival,” he said to the away teams. “The last contact we had was the message for help, sent three days ago. We are beaming down to ascertain the situation, assess the need for medical aid or humanitarian assistance, and discover the cause of their silence. We don’t know the cause of any potential disaster, or what situation we may find on the ground, so take every precaution. Any questions?”

His crew, silent and ready, shook their heads. He nodded at them, looking around to make eye contact with each of them. “Be safe. Be careful. Check in with the ship every thirty minutes.” Giotto handed him an environmental suit, and he slung it over his back as April and Spock did the same.

The weight on his back settled him. Kirk strode onto the transporter pad, Spock a half-step behind him, and took his place on one of the plates. He settled his shoulders back, bracing himself. He did not know what they would find; whether they were walking into an active conflict, or if an earthquake or other disaster had wrought ruin on the mine. But though Marcus wore the sharp bones of starvation, Kindinos was not Tarsus. His crew was prepared. They were here to help, and they were going to be fine.

Spock claimed the plate to his right, and April stepped up to his left. Kirk mechanically and automatically ran his hands over his belt for his phaser and comm unit, feeling the experimental one tucked into his inner pocket, and then nodded to Scotty.

“Energize.”

#spirk #spirk fan fiction #k/s fan fiction #kirk/spock #kirk/spock fan fiction #fake married #regulatory relations #my writing #hi everyone hope you're having a good day love you

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worstloki · 2 years ago

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Thor, rambling while Loki reads: --and yes, we are brothers, but I would kiss you if you asked!

Loki, suddenly much less interested in his book: What?

Thor: What?

Amora: *'sneakily' watching with her head peeking over the librarian's desk* HE SAID HE WOULD KISS YOU IF YOU ASKED.

#been finding the option of competitive fair play and sportsmanship supportiveness so much better as an option for everyone #like sure Amora is dying to bang Thor and Sif is trying to be a good friend while also vying/hoping for his interest #and sure Loki is somehow winning the contest with little idea he's taking part #but that doesn't mean they all have to fight!!!!#Amora being like 'well if i can't have him then im voting for Loki' while Sif and Loki joke about Thor's 'obvious' crush on one of them #Loki: *pointedly @ Sif* and to NO ONES surprise Thor has made off for the night with a stunning fair maiden with dark hair and blue eyes #Sif: it's OBVIOUS he's like this for *you*#Loki: nah ur just mad that im right about this. and the fact that he'd rather never confess than begrudge your warrior bond or whatever #Sif: he likes guys too -there's no way to explain that away with me! YOU'RE a shapeshifter making it doable to his...salacious imaginings :#Loki: what if he has a type. maybe he likes us both? that would explain the time he--#Amora: if i wanted i could make clones too yknow -_-#Sif Loki Amora with sometimes Lorelei showing up and lowkey thinking it's a fun time to cheer the others on in gaining Thor's attentions #Fandral too one day he's red faced and all 'shame on my family line' but he's taken a seat at their table reluctantly and gone #''his arms. right?''#and there are just nods of solidarity around the table #idk #something of a wholesome Thor fanclub which Loki is attending because Sif is CONVINCED his type isn't her but is Loki #and Amora who thinks it would be wicked hilarious for the bros to get it on #Fandral: wait I thought Loki was just sitting here to stop people bothering your table. and because he's a loner #Loki: Fandral FINALLY. Fandral look me in the eyes. tell them Thor isn't in love with me #Fandral: you?! I'm hoping he's into blond T-T #Amora: *fist over her heart* respect T-T

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starscreamingg · 2 years ago

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#God gives his hardest shifts to his sleepiest employees #I'm the sleepy employee I haven't known peace since this guy realized I don't like scheduling days off just because #Like you can't tell me that you're giving me shit shifts since the 16 year olds are booking off weekends because YOU HIRED THEM :) YOU HAD #TO KNOW THIS :))#YEAG THEY'RE BOOKING OFF WEEKENDS AND TRYING TO GET OFF EARLY YOU HIRED CHILDREN FOR SHIFTS THAT GO ON GOR 7-8 HOURS A NIGHT #SIR #Sorry hi we're all having a good time :)#I love my job but I'd like. A weekend. One Saturday. Of peace. Hang out with my dad play some hollow knight give me partner a smooch perhap #I'm eepy :)/#Hope everyone's doing well haha goodnight :)

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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 months ago

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Dolly

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

synopsis: you feel lonely and buy a new sex doll on the market, not knowing what you got yourself into.

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

word count: 10.3k

warnings: alcohol, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), squirting, creampies

a/n: spooktober continues🤭🫶🏻 if u love black mirror, these are vibes for u! also i'm sorry if the ending seems rushed but i have two more things to write for hyunjin before i continue with my spooktober🫠

!!! this fic has an ambiguous ending

~ divider by @bunnysrph

~ Masterlist

~ Dolly masterlist

Your cursor hovers over the 'continue to payment' button.

Are you really doing this?

It's embarassing enough that you can't get a date lately, and everyone around you keeps bugging you about it, asking when you're going to find a partner already.

Like you need one. You were perfectly fine alone.

But everyone has needs, and the ad for the new sex dolls that have just come out on the market looked enticing.

Each one of the new models was a unique one, only one of them made as it was sort of a trial run for them and your attention was captured by Hyunjin, the romantic doll.

It was expensive too, but you had money saved up on the side and thought, why not get something for your pleasure and try something new as well.

'Fuck it!', you thought and clicked on the button, purchasing the doll; there was no going back now.

Eagerly, you awaited the day it would be delivered to your door and three weeks later, there was a big box in the middle of your living room.

Biting on your lip, you stare at the box as your heartbeat quickens.

In the pictures, it looked so real. Like it was a real human being and to say you were a bit disturbed was an understatement.

But as freaky as it was, you were still so curios about it so you opened up the box slowly, your eyes wide for the peculiarity of it all. There were covers neatly placed over the doll, and bubble wrap just about everywhere, but on top of it all was a letter.

You opened it up and it read;

Hello,

my name is Hyunjin and I am your romantic doll.

I love art, good food and wine, long walks on the beach and heartwarming movies.

Please, treat me with great care as I am sensitive, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with cuddles.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

As you read that, you couldn't help being a little freaked out by the doll professing his love to you, but you had to remind yourself it's just the creators of it who wrote the letter, making the concept more real and human to give some kind of comfort to the buyer and personality to the doll.

Taking a deep breath, you remove all the bubble wrap and slide off the cover.

"Oh." you gasp loudly, your hand slapped on your mouth as you finally see the doll.

He looks too real to be just a doll and for a second you just stare into his eyes, unmoving but somehow warm, his facial features chiseled to perfection, his lips plump and inviting.

Your eyes travel down to see he was dressed in a nice button up, intricate flower patterns sewn into the material, coupled with nice pants and even some very expensive looking shoes.

The doll had jewelry on, his nails were painted, there was so much detail on it; he even had a mole under his eye. You marvelled at the dedication of the people who made it and obviously put a lot of though into Hyunjin.

You notice then that there is a note sticking out of the shirt's pocket and you carefully pick it up.

My love!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like it and enjoy our first romantic night together.

"Wow, they really went all out with this." you say out loud as you look at the doll, the next question forming in your mind.

How heavy is the doll?

You spend a few more minutes just examining it with your eyes, too nervous to touch it and you can't get over the way it looks just like a real human being.

You rest your hand on the box, your fingertips gently grazing the doll's cheek.

"Oh!" you gasp, retracting your hand. It feels like real skin and with wide eyes your hand moves closer to his face again, your palm pressing slowly against his cheek.

"Are you alive?" you chuckle to yourself but the doll doesn't answer or move at all, just as you expected.

Your fingers slowly explore the doll's face, his lips are plushy and they seem actually kissable, the material they used, whatever it was, made it seem like they were real human lips.

You lean in closer to take a better look into his eyes, your hand coming up to play with locks of dark hair, which again, seems like real hair, the little curls are soft to the touch and bounce back as you pull on them gently.

Now you're leaning so close to him, and you can smell the nice, comforting scent radiating off of the doll. You've no idea what they used, but he smells fresh and flowery.

"Okay, let's get you out of the box." you lean back and hook your hands under the doll's arms before making it sit up.

His head falls to the side a little, making you feel a bit creeped out because it really seemed like you were handling a dead person instead of an actual doll, but the only indication that it wasn't a dead human is the lightness of it.

He wasn't as light as a feather but he wasn't as heavy as dead weight either.

"Maybe the couch?" you talk to yourself as you look over to your comfy couch, the pillows fluffed up already and a soft blanket thrown over it.

Somehow, thankfully to your regular exercise, you manage to lift the doll into your arms and carry him to the couch.

The way he slumps when you put him down, again freaks you out a little, but for some weird reason you're even more interested in how you can actually use the doll.

You prop him to sit nicely and turn on the tv to some art channel, remembering how the doll 'said' that he likes art.

"I hope that's what you enjoy." you shrug and throw the fluffy blanket over the doll's legs, folding his soft hands into his lap, before you go back to the box to find the manual.

"Here it is." you dig out the booklet and start reading.

They listed the materials but you still had no idea what they were so it flew over your head. There was also a page with pictures of the other dolls and the makers' letter to the customers, thanking them for purchasing the doll.

Flipping the pages, you find what you were looking for.

Your face becomes red as you read the doll's 'abilites', including that his thing can vibrate and cum, he reacts to your touch and that he has a usb charger that gets plugged into the back of his neck.

"W-wow." you nod to yourself as you keep reading until you flip to the last page.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening so be aware of that.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, bruise or cut the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Hyunjin doll, do not be too harsh on him considering he's sensitive.

Hope you enjoy the romantic soul you chose!

Bruise? The doll can bruise?

Why are they talking about it like it's alive?

You gulp and turn to look at the couch but the doll is unmoving, turned towards the tv, same position as before.

You peek back into the big box to find another, smaller box inside it, that was beneath the doll's feet earlier.

You carefully take it out, putting it on the floor and opening it curiously.

Inside, you found a change of clothes, more casual looking ones and something to be used as sleep wear. It was like getting a Barbie doll with all her outfits when you were a kid.

So bizzare, yet it made you feel excited in a way.

After getting up, you decide to clean up the mess you made with the bubble wrap and put the box away in your closet, just in case, if you ever wanted to return him.

"Okay." you nod and come back to peek at the doll.

The television screen reflects in his eyes, his hands crossed in his lap, just how you left him and relief washes over you.

Why are you even scared?

You shake your head and decide to prepare lunch.

You're in your kitchen, listening to some slow music as you cook, completely forgetting about the doll sitting in your living room.

That is, until the volume of the tv suddenly increases making you jolt and gasp.

Your back straightens as you turn off the stove.

Slowly turning around, you stare at the direction the sound is coming from.

You swallow and make your way to your couch, you don't know what to expect but the doll is still in the same position you left it, the tv remote is out of his reach, down on the coffee table.

You grab it and decrease the volume before looking back at the doll.

"If that wasn't you, we have ghosts in this apartment. But if it was you, you're obviously wanting my attention." you cross your arms as you stare at him.

Nothing.

"Fine, I will eat lunch with you." you declare before going back to the kitchen to get yourself food.

You mostly eat in front of your tv anyways, not caring about any rules since you live alone, enjoying the freedom it brings you.

Settling down next to Hyunjin, you pull the blanket over your legs too and start eating.

You chuckle to yourself, if someone saw you right now, they'd think you're absolutely insane, sitting down next to an inanimate doll that looks eerily human.

You take a peek at Hyunjin, sighing as he sits still.

"You do look alive. But I'm literally talking to myself." you say and of course get no answer.

Shrugging, you continue about your day, washing dishes and doing laundry, enjoying your selfcare routine after getting your apartment in order, your Hyunjin doll observing your movements from the couch.

In the evening hours, you finally come back to him.

"Are you tired of being in the same position?" you ask, knowing there will be no answer.

"We can have dinner now." you add and leave to the kitchen to bring out some food and a bottle of wine.

"This is insane. Top 5 weirdest things I've done." you talk to yourself as you look down at your black satin nightgown, with lace details on the top, perfectly resting on your chest. "Maybe it even takes up the first place."

You settle next to Hyunjin once again, changing his position a little as you fill up two glasses of wine.

"Our first date, I guess?" you sigh with a chuckle before drinking the wine.

His glass stands full on the coffee table, untouched as you start eating next to him once again.

"I guess I should tell you a bit about myself. I work in an office. I hate my job but it pays the bills." you say, "I always wanted to be in a band though. Played guitar in high school. Never got too far with that. I love art too, you know, any shape or form of it. Maybe that's why I chose you. You seem like an artist. Or you would be if you were real, ha." you chuckle, yapping away as you keep drinking the wine, the doll listening to you without moving.

You keep pouring the wine into both his and your glass but it's only you drinking from both glasses.

It gives you a nice buzz, warmness that spreads through your body and manifests itself between your legs.

Usually, you'd play with your vibrator or dildo but seeing as you got a literal sex doll, you thought you should use him for the purpose he's made for.

"Now, what do I do with you?" you smirk, your hand coming up to play with the doll's hair, twirling the lock in your fingers.

"I mean, I can do anything I want." you nod, scooting closer to the doll.

"I feel fucking crazy." you laugh, pulling the covers off of Hyunjin.

Your hand is pressed on his thigh as you touch him gently through his clothes, your mind still marvelling at the fact that he feels like a real human being.

"I'm curious." you whisper, your fingertip playing with the button of his shirt, wanting to see what he looks like underneath the nice clothes they made him wear.

Slowly, you start unbuttoning the doll, taking your time with it, as anticipation builds up, creating a swirl of excitement inside you.

When you pop open the last button, you open up the shirt and gasp.

"Wow." you lick your lips at the sight, the doll's nipples look aroused, his stomach is toned, it looks like there's a vein leading down into his pants making your eyes fall down at his crotch.

You still have no idea how they made him look so real but you're eager to explore, planting your hands on his chest, running them up and down to his stomach, tracing the vein with your fingertips.

You run your hands back up to his nipples and flick them gently with your thumb before pinching them experimentally.

Gasping, you notice a growing bulge in the doll's pants.

"Am I pushing the right buttons?" you chuckle at your own joke as you continue playing with his nipples.

Your impatience however doesn't let you stall for too long, so your hands make their way down to the hem of his pants.

"Let's see." with a smirk you unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down with a little struggle as you have to lift him up a little.

You place your hands on his thighs, squeezing the flesh a little, watching as his cock twitches like he was really alive.

"You really do react to touch." you gasp in wonder, what kind of technology was this?

They even put underwear on him which you think is a nice touch but at this point, you were too curious not to slide them off immediately.

"Woah!" you gasp as his cock springs free of its confines.

You think it's the biggest and most beautiful cock you've ever seen, framed by a neatly cut bush, a visible vein running up the whole length.

You stare at it for a little while before you wrap your hand around it, your other hand fondling his balls.

It feels real once again, like he's throbbing and twitching, hot and heavy on your palm, a bead of precum at the tip.

"What in the hell?" you mumble, your finger swiping at the tip as you gather the liquid and bring it to your lips.

You suck your finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and tasting the sweetness of the doll.

How he tasted so sweet was beyond you.

"Fuck it." you chuckle, pulling off your nightgown and tossing it aside, which leaves you completely naked like the doll is.

"I didn't even kiss you. Not very romantic of me." you smirk as you throw your leg over Hyunjin, sitting in his lap, your wet folds pressed against his cock.

You lean in and press a kiss to his lips, and of course the doll doesn't kiss back but his lips move with your movement and it feels good as you grind on his hard length.

"Look at you. Letting me do all the work like all the rest of them." you scoff with a smirk and at that, the doll's cock twitches a little too hard against you, almost pushing inside you.

"Wow. Someone's excited." you stare at the doll's eyes but there is nothing in there to indicate that he was in fact listening to you.

"For how much you cost, I hope this is worth it." you shrug and grip the base of his cock, guiding it inside you.

Sitting down on his length has you gasping as he fills you up perfectly, like his cock was made exactly for your pussy to take.

Your grip the doll's shoulders and use it for what you intended to when you clicked on that purchase button.

No matter how turned on you are though, staring at Hyunjin's almost expressionless face proves to be a turn off so you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you press your chest to his and continue bouncing on him.

Save for the fact that his hands lay limp on the side, his skin feels human and he feels kind of warm, like there was something inside the doll, warming it up.

"F-fuck." you whimper as the head of his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside you, it's like the more wet you get and the harder you fuck on him, his cock responds to you.

"R-right hand for activation." you repeat the instruction from the manual, as you blindly search for his right hand, sliding your fingertips on his wrist to his palm, your head leaned on his shoulder as you slowly gyrate your hips.

Your fingers interlace with his and it feels almost like Hyunjin grips your hand back, making you jump a little but before you can move away, his cock starts vibrating inside you.

"A-ah!" you moan loudly as your other arm curls around him, holding onto him while you fiddle with his fingers, your legs clamping around him as you start falling apart.

"G-gonna cum!" you whimper, burying your face in Hyunjin's neck and he smells so nice, feels so good as his cock keeps vibrating against your spot, bringing you to your high quickly.

The ecstasy you feel as the vibrations persist, prolonging your orgasm, overstimulating you while you ride the feeling makes you miss the single blink that Hyunjin's eyes make before returning to their original glassy and unmoving state.

"Too much." you whimper, squeezing his thumb and the vibrations stop.

You know that the left hand brings a happy end to the doll but you're not sure if you're done with it yet.

Leaning back to finally look at his face has you a little disappointed as you don't notice any kind of change on his face.

"Kinda wish you were real." you whisper, hugging the doll as you start bouncing on his hard cock again, bringing yourself easily to another orgasm.

You squeeze the doll's left hand after that, and feel spurts of warm cum shooting inside you as his cock twitches, the head bruising against your spot violently as he fills you up with copious amounts of the sticky substance.

You're pretty sure the neighbors can hear you moan as you cum again, the feeling of being filled up to the brim satisfies you and has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Wow." you breathe hard, your cheek leaned on Hyunjin's shoulder as you grip his wrists while you come down.

You lean back to look at the doll again.

Were his lips slightly upturned before?

In the fogginess of your orgasms, you couldn't tell or think straight.

"Be right back." you slide off of him and make your way to the bathroom, taking a quick five minute shower before you grab a wet cloth to clean the doll up.

He sits how you left him, and you kneel between his legs to clean him up carefully.

His cock is not completely soft nor hard anymore, it's somewhere in the middle, but as you touch it gently, it seems to react and twitch again.

"You came already." you smirk and experimentally pinch the tip of Hyunjin's cock, but nothing happens except the member twitching again.

You stand up with a sigh, covering him with the blanket again before you leave for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Just as you turn on the water to wash your mouth out, you hear something akin to a sigh coming from your living room.

You freeze, turning off the water and listening closely but you only hear the quiet buzz of the lamp above your mirror.

Maybe you were just imagining things.

You shake your head and finish your business before going back to Hyunjin.

"I'm too tired to dress you now, but boxers should be enough." you say and struggle to get him dressed, almost giving up during the process.

"I should just keep you naked in my bed to avoid the hassle." you say, lifting him up and carrying him to your bed.

"Cuddles, right? I do love me some cuddles too." you say with a tired smile as you adjust Hyunjin in your bed.

You join him under the covers and lean on your elbow as you lay sideways, staring down at him.

"How'd they make you look and feel so real?" your hand is on his cheek, and you trace his eyebrows, his nose and lips.

Fingertips travel to his ears, down to his neck and his chest.

"Don't come alive and scare me while I'm sleeping, Hyunjin." a shadow passes in his eyes as you say his name but you're too busy caressing his toned stomach to notice.

"Night." you kiss his lips before turning off the lamp and laying your head on his shoulder.

Somehow, you adjust his arms so that it seems like he's holding you and you throw your leg over his, your hand tracing patterns on his chest and side.

It was like hugging and kissing your pillow in high school, except this one took the shape of a human being.

With thoughts and questions about Hyunjin swimming in your head, you fall asleep quickly, not noticing how the doll's arms tighten around you ever so slightly.

Early in the morning as your alarm starts blaring loudly and annoyingly, you groan and stir, almost forgetting about Hyunjin being next to you.

"Oh!" you gasp. "Good morning, dolly." you say after turning the alarm off, as he stares at the ceiling.

"Sadly, I gotta go to work and leave you here alone. You better behave while I'm out." you lift a finger up menacingly, but there's a playful smile on your face.

"Man, I'm crazy." you shake your head before leaning in to leave a nice, wet smooch on Hyunjin's cheek.

"I'll come say bye before I leave."

And you do so, after eating breakfast and getting ready, you're back in your room.

"Should I put you in the living room so you can watch tv?"

The doll never answers.

"Maybe, yeah. You'll be bored lying in bed all day." you nod and carry Hyunjin to your couch.

You make him comfy, cover him with the blanket, card your fingers through his messy hair and then turn on the tv, leaving the remote in his lap.

"Gonna be late because of you." you sigh and lean down to place a kiss on the doll's lips.

"Be a good doll."

And with that you finally leave your apartment.

All day at work, you can't help but wonder if your Hyunjin doll somehow came alive, and for some reason you were looking forward to seeing him even if he didn't.

"What's got you so happy? Finally got laid?" your coworker chuckles as you stand in the office kitchen making yourself some coffee, you know she always gossips about you behind your back so you don't wanna give her the time of the day.

"Mind your business, Amanda." you answer quickly, turning to leave back to your office.

"Okay, you didn't then." she calls behind you with a giggle but you decide to ignore her.

"Fucking bitch." you mutter to yourself as you close the door.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully and you can't wait to drive back home to Hyunjin.

"I'm home!" you yell out as soon as you step inside, hearing that the tv is still on, nothing out of the ordinary.

You make your way to your living room to find Hyunjin in the exact same position as you left him almost 9 hours ago, the remote still next to his right hand, the same channel you turned on this morning on the tv.

For some reason, your shoulders slump.

"Well, I guess you've been a good doll and took my warning literally." you shrug a little.

"Still, I want to reward you. As soon as I eat and take a nap that is." you add and go about your routine, eating lunch, taking a shower and of course changing into your comfy clothes, which at this time of the year consisted of an oversized t-shirt and panties.

"Let's take a nap together, dolly." you say to Hyunjin as you lift him up and move him to your bed again.

You lay him on his side, then mirror his position, taking his arm and wrapping it around your waist, the other comfortably under your neck.

Tracing patterns on his stomach and chest again, you start talking.

"Your life is so easy. From the couch to the bed, you don't even have to work or go anywhere. Meanwhile, I have to endure fucking Amanda every day at work. Do you have any idea how bitchy that woman is?", you talk as you cuddle your doll. "She has to know eeeeverything about eeeeeveryone. Soon, she'll crawl up my ass just to look at my insides."

You look at Hyunjin's face and for a moment it seems as if his eyes moved.

"Are you listening to me, perhaps?" you whisper, your hand on his cheek. "I know I'm probably crazy. But I'm glad I got you. Even though you're a bit creepy, you bring me comfort." you add, tucking your head into his neck.

"I'm gonna sleep now."

Slowly blinking your eyes awake, you feel warmness enveloping you that's not coming just from your blanket but from Hyunjin.

Quickly, you realize that somehow his thigh ended up pressed against your core, your leg thrown over him as you scooted closer to him in sleep.

"Oh." a little sound escapes your lips as you grind against his warm thigh, feeling wetness on your panties.

Before looking up at him, you press a kiss to his collarbone and it seems like his thigh moves against you once, making you jolt.

"Hey." you look up at him, but his eyes are unmoving as always.

You observe his face but the throbbing between your legs makes you grind against him again.

"F-feels good." you whimper, leaning in and kissing him, letting your tongue dart out and lick at the plump lips.

You feel his erection press against your other thigh, the one flush against him and you chuckle a little.

"Someone likes me a lot." you say, leaning back to look at him.

It looks like there's a small smile on his face that you swear wasn't there before.

"Hm." you squint your eyes as you stop your movements.

"Gotta try something." you declare after a moment of silence, lifting up and removing the blanket.

You push Hyunjin on his back, hooking your fingers in his boxers and pulling them off of him.

"Aw, you really do like me a lot." you smirk at the sight of the doll's cock, twitching and leaking again like it did yesterday.

"I'll give you some attention, you deserved it."

You spread his legs, adjusting them so you can kneel between his thighs and you lean down.

"I haven't done this in a while. You can't complain though." you chuckle a little as you grip his cock and let your tongue dart out, catching the sweet tasting precum with it.

You don't understand how he tastes so sweet, it's hard to put your finger on what exactly the taste is but it makes you want more so you swirl your tongue around his head, your moans muffled as you swallow the sweet liquid.

"Mm. Fuck you taste good." you whine and put your lips around him again, slowly taking more of him in as you bob your head up and down.

Sucking cock like that is not your favorite thing to do, sometimes it makes you feel uncomfortable but having Hyunjin be so still and so tasty has your arousal pooling on your panties and you keep wanting more.

You take as much as you can, coating his cock in your saliva, your tongue pressing along his vein as you fondle his balls has him twitching inside you.

You smirk and grip his left hand, spurts of hot cum hitting your throat and it tastes even sweeter than before as you whimper and swallow everything.

"Damn hot." you whine, quickly getting rid of your shirt and panties, before you take his now completely wet cock in your hand and start jerking him off to make him hard for you again.

It doesn't take long to excite the doll and you decide to turn your back to him and fuck on his cock like that so that you don't have to look into his lifeless eyes while pleasing yourself.

You sit on him and push his cock inside yourself, your warm cunt engulfing his entire length easily.

"Mm." you gyrate your hips as you close your eyes and enjoy teasing yourself, your wet pussy coating his navel and balls.

"God, you're perfect Hyunjin." you whine and start fucking on him.

In the deep throes of passion as you bounce on him, your nails digging into his thighs for support, your eyes closed in pure bliss, you don't notice anything.

You don't notice Hyunjin blinking, his lips opening to speak but nothing comes out.

He can't move no matter how hard he tries and once again his eyes go back to the glassy state they're always in.

"Gonna cum." you whine loudly, gripping his right hand and he starts vibrating inside you, pushing you over the edge and making you scream as you squirt all over him.

"Fuck." you whine as your eyes focus, noticing you have left red marks in his thighs.

"Oh. Did I hurt you?" you gasp, your fingertips gently running over the marks.

"Didn't mean to." you look back at him but he lays still.

His cock twitches inside you and you grip his left hand, making the doll fill you up as you slowly ride him.

You lift up slowly, his cum sliding down your inner thigh together with your release.

"Made a mess of you, dolly." you look at the state of him.

"Maybe a bath?" he doesn't answer but still you prepare a bath and place him in it, careful of the usb opening on his neck.

You get inside after him, settling between his legs and leaning your back on his chest.

"Why are you so warm, Hyunjin?" you caress his arm as you hold it, his other one thrown over your stomach.

Sighing, you lean on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to relax in the warm water, as Hyunjin 'held' you.

You still couldn't understand how they made him, but you were willing not to think about that, as he brought you a kind of comfort you didn't expect, making you wanna indulge in that feeling for as long as you could.

It's been exactly two months since you've gotten your Hyunjin doll, and ever since then you've loved spending every day with him.

You talked to him like he was alive, you watched movies with him, you read him books, you slept next to him every single night, you brought him to the kitchen so he can watch you cook, you even took him on late night drives sometimes, feeling bad that he was locked up in the apartment all day.

Sometimes, you thought you saw a flicker in his eyes, a slight smile on his face, or his fingers twitching against his thighs.

Some nights, while you're half asleep, you could swear that he tightened his hold on you or his chest lifted up and down like he was breathing.

Some days, as you'd come home from work you found him in a slightly different position than you left him.

One time, you sat him next to the window so you could watch rain together, and when you came back from making some tea, there was a heart shape in the fog on the glass.

"Did you do this dolly?" you caress his hair and look at him closely but he doesn't react.

You sigh, tracing another heart next to the first one before you sit in his lap, bringing the warm cup to your lips and observing him.

You thought you were going crazy in the beginning but as time passed by, you were becoming sure that there was more to Hyunjin than you initially knew.

"Just say something if you can hear me. Or squeeze my hand." you try for the nth time as you sit on your couch with Hyunjin but nothing happens.

"Fine." you huff. "Maybe you want something first. What would you like? I bought you new clothes. Maybe you want something else like... like something to do with art? We can paint together, if you'd like."

Hyunjin doesn't answer.

Nevertheless, you bring your art supplies and a bottle of wine.

You make yourself comfortable on the floor, next to Hyunjin's legs as he sits on the couch.

You end up being the one painting and drinking, Hyunjin's eyes move to look down at you, the look in his eyes softens, unlike the glassy one he always has.

He wants to talk, he wants to lean over and caress your hair, he wants to taste the wine off of your lips and feel the paintbrush between his fingertips.

But he can't. His eyes become glassy again as your phone rings, jolting you out of your peaceful activity.

It's your mother.

The conversation starts as always and it escalates into a fight of when are you settling down, why aren't you married, why are you closing yourself off, why are you such a failure?

As soon as you hang up a sob escapes your lips and you fall into Hyunjin, seeking comfort as you wrap your limbs around him, your face buried in his neck and your hot tears sliding down from your cheeks to his shirt, soaking it up.

"No one would understand." you cry. "They'd say I'm crazy and maybe I am. But I don't give a fuck."

Your body trembles against Hyunjin as you hiccup and sniffle, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your leg thrown over his thighs.

His body seems warmer than before and you squeeze him a little.

"Maybe I'm fucking crazy for loving a doll. But I love you Hyunjin." you sigh, closing your eyes as you lean against him.

His eyelids flutter a few times. He blinks.

A deep breath through his nose and you almost miss the way his chest moves up.

You place your hand on his chest, and feel it.

A heart beat slowly forming, at first almost too slow to be normal until it becomes steady and then speeds up.

He's breathing, his lips are dry as he licks at them, his hands clutch onto you and you scream.

You jump up quickly, your eyes wide as you look at him.

Hyunjin looks back up at you, his eyes wide and filled with fear and shock, mirroring yours.

He opens his mouth and a series of coughs escape his lips.

"Wh- How? Am I hallucinating?"

"Y- y/n." is the first thing he says, weakly and quietly as he reaches out for you.

You stay still as a statue, not sure what the hell is happening before your eyes.

"P-please, don't be scared." he begs as he tries to get up but his legs give out and he falls to the floor with a thud.

"Ugh." he whimpers, his hands grabbing at the coffee table.

You're slow to react to him falling from the shock of it all, making your way back to him cautiously.

"Did you hurt yourself?" you ask quietly.

"N-no, I don't think so." he says as he looks up at you.

"Who- who are you?" you don't know what else to ask, because the doll you used and played with was now a human with a heartbeat and he was looking at you, even knew your name.

"What do you mean? I'm- I'm Hyunjin, your romantic doll." he answers like it's the most normal thing ever.

"How are you alive? Why now all of a sudden? I don't get it." you say as he sits back on his legs.

"You... You love me. Your love brought me to life." he swallows, his cheeks rosy.

"Oh... There was nothing about this in the manual." The fucking manual. The doll's actual purpose. Everything you ever did to him. Embarassment washes over you and you feel absolutely mortified.

"Do you... did you hear me all this time? And um, see and feel what I was doing?"

"Y-yeah." he nods, his cheeks becoming even more red.

"Fucking hell." you whine, covering your face with your hands as you sit on the couch.

"Hey, it's okay. I- I was made for that." he says, his hand on your knee in an attempt to comfort you.

You peek at him through your fingers.

"And you were so nice to me. So... warm and loving. You made me feel so good. You never mistreated me even when you knew very well you could do whatever you want with me. I'm thankful for that. And I- I love you too, y/n." Hyunjin talks, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

"Are you programmed to say stuff like that? Are you a robot?"

He chuckles.

"I'm not programmed and I'm not a robot. Didn't you feel my heart beating?"

"I did but... I don't understand. How were you made?" you finally remove your hands from your face.

"I don't know. I wish I could answer your questions but I'm as clueless as you are. I just know I was conscious the whole time while I was with you but I couldn't speak or move. Like I was paralyzed. It was horrible. I tried giving you signs, I tried to talk multiple times but it's like something would hold me back, like there was a wall and I couldn't break through."

"That does sound horrible. I'm sorry if I ever did something you wouldn't agree to." you say quietly, your face burning in embarassment.

"No, no, I liked everything you did." he says with a sheepish smile, averting his eyes. "Wish I could reciprocate." he looks up at you through his lashes.

You're biting on your lip nervously, his hand reaches for you and you accidentally snatch yours away, not used to your doll talking to you and trying to touch you.

"A-are you gonna abandon me now?" he asks quietly as he eyes your hand.

"What?" you look back at him to see that his eyes are watery and you gasp. "No, of course not! I always wished you'd come to life. Didn't think it would actually happen so I'm still processing and hoping that I'm not dreaming."

"Oh, thank god." he exhales and you let him grab your hand. "I- uhm... I'm very hungry and thirsty. Could you help me with that?"

"Oh! Of course! I will make some dinner for us." you say and help him sit up on the couch, noticing that now he's heavier than he used to be.

"I guess I still need to get feeling in my legs and arms." he says as you bring him a glass of water.

"Mhm, probably you need to have blood pumping properly through your body. Don't worry." you pet his hair as he drinks and he looks at you.

"Here, you'll be warm like this." you wrap him up in your fluffy blanket and notice a change on the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you exclaim, your fingertips touching the skin there, making Hyunjin shiver a little.

"The usb opening is gone." you declare and he brings his hand to touch it, your fingertips grazing against each other.

"That's weird." he says absentmindedly.

"All of this is weird." you chuckle and he chuckles with you, making you look at him.

God, he's even more beautiful with a smile gracing his face, you think to yourself.

Without thinking your hands gently cup his cheeks.

"You're really alive." you whisper, your thumbs gently stroking his face, his eyes flutter as he pushes into your hands.

"I am. Does that make you happy?" he asks with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Very happy." you nod with a smile, leaning closer to him.

"Good. I want to make you happy. When you're happy, I'm happy too."

"Hyunjinnie." you whine against his lips and kiss him gently.

Having him kiss back as he clutches at your shirt is the sweetest thing ever, you think as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Okay, I don't want you to starve now that you came to life." you lean back with a chuckle as he chases your lips.

"Yeah, please, I need food." he nods and you make your way to the kitchen, whipping up a quick dinner, checking constantly if he's okay.

You bring two plates as soon as you're done and Hyunjin's eyes seem to get bigger as soon as they land on the food.

"Be careful, it's still hot." you warn him.

"Okay." Hyunjin nods.

He eats happily, asking for more which you of course bring to him.

"Are you feeling better?" you ask when the two of you finish eating.

"Yes, much better. But I feel very tired now."

"You need sleep. Let's go to bed. Do you think you can walk now?"

"I think so." you grab his arm and help him become steady on his feet.

You lead him to the bathroom and he looks at you.

"Now that you're alive, you need to brush your teeth and wash up before bed."

"Right." he nods.

After a whole ordeal of getting ready, you finally plop down under the covers.

"Can I- Can I hold you?" Hyunjin asks sweetly and you chuckle, rolling your body into his.

"Of course."

"Always wanted to do that." his limbs wrap around you as he holds you tightly, your face buried in his chest.

"Good night, Hyunjin. Please be there when I wake up." you nuzzle into him, inhaling the familiar fresh and flowery scent of him.

"I promise I will. Good night, y/n."

It wasn't a dream.

Your eyes flutter open and Hyunjin smiles at you fondly, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Morning, dol- Hyunjin."

"You can call me dolly if that's what you like." he smirks and you chuckle.

"Eh, well you're human now. It feels like I'm degrading you." you gently touch his chest.

"I don't mind." he shifts and you feel his erection press against your thigh.

You gasp a little, your core throbbing with want.

"I'm sorry." his face is red instantly. "It's just- when you touch me... I can't help it."

"It's okay, Hyunjinnie." you slide your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

He whimpers, leaning into you, his eyes fluttering shut and you press your lips on his in a heated kiss.

His tongue licks at your lower lip and you let him in, eager to finally feel his kisses how you craved to.

Hyunjin kisses you messily and hungrily, grinding into your hand, grunting against your lips.

As soon as you slide off his boxers, automatically your hands lift up to push him on his back but he grabs your wrists gently to stop you.

"My sweet girl, let me take care of you how you deserve now that I'm able to." he rasps, his eyes hooded as he looks at you with lust.

"O-okay." you whisper and lay down on your back, letting Hyunjin slide your panties off as you pull off your shirt and toss it somewhere aside.

"I've spent so much time receiving. I want to give, my angel. My hands hurt when I couldn't touch you and make you feel good. That's all I want to do." he sounds desperate as his lips attach to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, his hands roaming on your body and settling on your breasts.

"Mm, make me feel good, Jinnie." you whimper as he squeezes your breasts, massaging them and moaning against your skin like it was more pleasurable to him than to you.

He mumbles sweet praises as he leaves more kisses that lead to your nipple, his tongue darting out to swirl around it, making you arch into him.

His eyes are dark as he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking, his other hand sliding down to grip your inner thigh.

Fingertips ghost on your skin, both his hands now spreading your legs apart.

"Do you know how much I longed to taste your sweet nectar? Will you let me drink from you, my angel?" Hyunjin asks, his finger gently pressing into your clit, circling it.

"Yes, please, oh my god." you whimper, your hips lifting up into his touch.

He smirks, trailing kisses down to your core.

He stops for a moment to admire you and you don't even have time to feel self-conscious as he spreads your pussy lips apart and leans in to stick his tongue inside you.

"F-fuck!" you jolt as he starts moving it before he leans back a little and licks at your sensitive clit.

"Taste even sweeter than I imagined." he moans, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks on it, his thumbs gently caressing your pussy lips.

"H-H-Hyunjin!" you whimper as he sucks harder, your hips lifting up in pleasure.

"Could be here for hours. Eating this sweet pussy out." he moans, pushing his tongue inside you again, this time fucking you faster, his nose giving the perfect pressure on your sensitive nub and driving you crazy.

Your hand grips his hair, pushing him more into you as he skilfully moves his tongue, his lips pressing into your lower ones as he makes out with you.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly, coating Hyunjin's face and he laps it all up greedily, his eyes shut as he whimpers into you, sending vibrations right into your core.

You feel crazy with desire the more he continues eating you out like a man starved and you have to grip his hair and pull him away after he gives you two more orgasms.

"H-Hyune, please, I need your cock." you whimper, feeling like you're falling apart.

He licks at his red lips, his eyes crazed with lust he feels for you.

"Anything my angel needs." his voice is husky as he leans over you, the tip of his cock pressed against your wet, messy cunt.

He pushes in with ease, after all, you've been fucking on him for the last two months, your pussy was used to the stretch.

"Mm, Hyunjin!" that doesn't make it feel less pleasurable when he fills you up, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Move, please." you whimper, already feeling out of it.

Hyunjin grips your thighs and starts fucking you at a steady pace, his cock dragging against your walls deliciously, sliding easily through your wetness.

"Feel so good. So warm. Just for me." he whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut before they open again and look down where his cock disappears inside you.

"Just for you, Jinnie." you moan and he looks up at you, a smile on his face.

He leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and in turn you wrap yours around his shoulders, bringing your bodies flush together as he buries himself deep inside your heat.

He ruts into you desperately, your lips meeting in messy kisses, spit dribbles down your chin and he licks at it, kissing your jaw and your neck wetly.

"P-please tell me you love me." he whimpers in your ear, holding you tightly as he fucks you harder, only taking a little bit of his length out and shoving it back in with force that has your mind spinning.

"I love you, Hyunjin. I love you. So much." you cry happy tears, making him cry too as you clutch onto each other.

"My angel, I love you more than anything." he says as he kisses you, his tongue playing with yours.

He brings you to another orgasm, his fingers on your nipples, pinching and pulling as he keeps rutting into you desperately.

"C-can I cum?" he whimpers, his hands gripping desperately at your waist.

"Yeah." you nod quickly and he gives you his left hand to squeeze and as your fingers entwine, he cums, filling you up endlessly, more than when he was just doll and you whimper as your legs clamp around him, lifting your middle into him and cumming with him again.

Both of you breathe hard as he stays inside you for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of you.

"D-do I still have to squeeze your left hand for you to cum?" you chuckle a little.

"No, just... force of habit, I guess." he says sheepishly like he didn't just fuck your brains out.

"What about the vibrations?"

"You really liked that, didn't you?" he smirks, his hand sliding up your thigh tentatively, before his fingers slide between your folds, playing with the wetness.

"Shut up." you say embarassingly, swatting his hand away.

"Don't worry, I can vibrate if you want." he bites on his lip as he looks at you.

"I'm too sensitive now." you whisper and he chuckles.

"I know. Usually you don't go above four, five orgasms in one sitting. Maybe six if you're extra horny."

"It's embarassing to me that you know this in such detail." your face becomes red as Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing you should be embarassed about. I'm happy to please you." he says and leans down to kiss you gently.

You pull him into your embrace, hoping that from now on, he stays human, and keeps loving you because in this moment you can't imagine your life without Hyunjin in it.

"Thank you for letting me use your painting supplies." Hyunjin smiles up at you as he sits on the floor of your living room, like you always did when you painted.

"Don't thank me, Jinnie. What's mine is yours." you smile as you sit next to him and lean in closer.

"Let me see." you say as he looks down sheepishly.

He pushes the sketchbook towards you and you gasp.

"Hyunjin, this is amazing! How did you manage to paint so well?! And you painted me! That's so sweet."

"I- I don't know. As I started, it's like I got déjà vu, like I already did this before and many times so."

"Really? That's peculiar." you say.

"Maybe we should call the company I got you from." you add, tapping your chin.

"P-please don't!" Hyunjin panics, gripping at your thigh. "I'm scared. I don't know why but when I try to think of that place, it feels bad. Please don't call them. I don't want them to take me away from you."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. No one will take you away from me. I won't call them." you quickly grab his face to calm him down.

"You promise?" his pupils shake as he looks at you.

"I promise." you nod and kiss him sweetly to let him know he can trust you.

Hyunjin visibly relaxes with your touch, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face in your neck.

"Um... could we go outside? We only ever went on night drives which is understandable but now that I can walk and stuff, we could go out on real dates and maybe visit museums?" he looks up at you with a smile.

"Of course! Anywhere you want to go." you smile back at him, and he leans up to kiss you.

For the next several weeks, you take Hyunjin everywhere.

To the park, the movies, museums, to a club, to different restaurants, to a mall, anything that comes to your mind, the two of you decide to visit, even going to a little town nearby for a day trip.

You don't remember the last time you were this happy and had someone next to you who made everything look so easy and sweet.

Hyunjin had taken an interest in capturing all the pretty moments so you got him a camera, deciding to surprise him for your 6 month anniversary.

As you came home from work, you called out to him but there was no answer.

"Jinnie? Are you sleeping?" you pushed the bedroom door open but the bed was vacant.

A heavy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as you searched your entire apartment and couldn't find him.

Frantically, you looked for him again, knowing that he didn't suddenly become Barbie sized and hid somewhere.

He was gone.

You ran out of your apartment to knock on your neighbor's door.

"Tony! Did you see Hyunjin today maybe?" you asked him as soon as he opened the door.

"No, I didn't, sorry." he shook his head.

You didn't know what to do so you went back to your apartment and burst into tears.

Hyunjin didn't have a phone you could contact him with as he never had the need to use one so you had no way of reaching him.

All you could do was sit and wait, biting your nails as every single scenario runs through your mind.

He will come back, you reassure yourself as you fall asleep from exhaustion.

And he does, around 10pm the door clicks open and you jolt up from your nap on the couch.

"Hyunjin?" you say into the dark space and he turns on the light, standing in the middle of your living room with two gift bags in his hand and an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh my god, Hyunjin!" you jump to your feet, running to him and throwing your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and almost knocking him down as the bags fall out of his hands and he wraps his arms around your waist.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I should've left you a note. I-I went out to get a gift for our anniversary tommorow."

"Please, don't ever disappear like that again. Do you have any idea how scared I was?" you cry and Hyunjin gasps, his hands on your face as he wipes away your tears.

"I'm really sorry. I will never ever do something like this again." his eyes water too.

"I should get you a phone." you shake your head. "Hey, how did you even manage to buy a gift? You don't have any money." you chuckle, wiping at your cheeks.

"I went to the park and painted portraits of people for money, then got the gift."

"Oh, Jinnie, you sweet fool. Just don't give me any more scares."

"I promise I won't." he nods and your lips seal in a kiss.

Despite having so many options to choose from now, Hyunjin and you decide to have a nice dinner at home for your anniversary, where it all started.

You even took out the most expensive plates and silverware you owned, adding some candles to create a more intimate atmosphere, some light romantic music playing in the background.

"Y/n, I um- got you something I'd like to see you wear tonight for me."

"Oh, you did?" you smirk. "Show it to me."

Hyunjin grabs one of the gift bags and reaches it to you with an excited smile.

You chuckle and peek inside, seeing that he got you black and red lacy lingerie as well as a dress.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"Very much so." you take out the dress and touch the silky material. "This dress is very revealing." you notice the opened back and the deep neck line that would definitely almost make your breasts fall out.

"I was counting on the fact that we celebrate here because you in that dress is for my eyes only." his eyes darken suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Let me get ready for our dinner then." you chuckle and make your way to the bathroom.

Hyunjin decides to wear the clothes he arrived in, since those were the only fancy clothing items he owned, and he thought it was kind of symbolic to put them on tonight.

You walk into your bedroom to find Hyunjin dressed and staring at the big box he was packed in, one you still didn't get rid of.

"Jinnie?" you call out as he seems to be deep in thought.

"You kept the box." he says, still looking at it.

"I did. I had no idea what I was getting into so I left it just in case. I was gonna throw it out, it's just really heavy." you explain, making your way to him.

"When you arrived, two men had to carry the box in, and somehow the box seemed heavier than you. I barely managed to get it into the closet. Had to push it and stuff. Sorry I didn't have the chance to get rid of it."

"It's okay, y/n. You don't have to apologize." he smiles as he turns towards you.

"Oh." a gasp leaves his lips as he sees you all dressed up for him.

"You like?" you smirk, winking at him.

"Mhm." he nods quickly. "You look stunning, my angel."

"Thank you, Jinnie. You look handsome."

His cheeks seem to become more red with the praise as he mutters, his eyes darting left and right.

You enjoy your dinner together, romantic music playing in the background, the tv mute, left on just from the habit of it.

After you finish eating, you migrate to the couch to cuddle and drink wine, some stupid show playing on the screen and the two of you jokingly read from the character's lips, making up nonsensical conversations and laughing.

After some time and some more wine, Hyunjin becomes even more handsy than usual, grabbing at your thighs, sliding his hands on the silky material of the dress.

You melt into him, kissing him as your arms wrap around his shoulders, your tongues languidly massaging each other as your core throbs with need.

Hyunjin caresses you gently, his hands worshipping you, sliding down your throat, to your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts, down to your stomach and waist, landing on your hips.

His lips attach to your neck as he leaves wet kisses on your skin, licking at it and sinking his teeth in.

"Mm." you moan, playing with his hair as he kisses your collarbone and the flesh of your breast, leaving another love bite on the soft skin.

His hands travel under your dress, roaming around on your legs and your eyes open, landing on the tv, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin, that's you!" you jolt, pointing at the screen.

"Huh?" he mumbles, already drunk on you.

You quickly grab the remote and turn on the sound.

"...seemingly the dolls have some kind of malfunction that the company does not wish to reveal to the public. All eight of the purchased dolls are required to be returned and the buyers will get their money back, guaranteed. The customers will be contacted accordingly..."

"M-my friends. I vaguely remember them." Hyunjin breathes quickly, you can see that he's getting upset quickly. "They wanna take me away from you."

"I won't let them." you quickly shake your head.

"What are we gonna do?" he asks, clenching his fists and you gently grab his hands, trying to soothe him.

"We're gonna... leave."

"Leave?"

"Yeah, I have a house my aunt left me up in the mountains. I don't think they can find us there. For now, until we think of where to go next." you start planning immediately.

There was no way you would let anyone take Hyunjin away from you.

"But, what about your job? And your things?" Hyunjin bites on his lip.

"I don't care. All I care about right now is making sure you're safe." you smile at him, your hand coming up to caress his cheek.

Hyunjin smiles, leaning into your touch and wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." he whispers into your hair.

You get a call from an unknown number the next day, but one quick google search tells you it's the company Hyunjin came from.

You packed one bag of a few essential things you'd need, leaving most of your belongings behind.

"Y/n! There's a black van posted outside. It's been there for hours. They're looking at the building right now." Hyunjin announces and you make your way to the window, half hiding behind him.

"We need to use the fire exit." you declare and Hyunjin nods as he turns to you.

"I won't let them take you. I promise." you hold his hands.

"I trust you, my angel." he smiles and you kiss him gently before the two of you exit the building, quickly entering your car.

You step on the gas, and reach out to hold Hyunjin's hand in yours.

As you speed off into the sunset, hoping for a better tomorrow, a black van rounds the corner, following you from afar...

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @lixies-favorite-cookie

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