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#seeing his fingers like loom over before grabbing the one right next to them

eilidh-eternal · 3 months

Text

Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin.

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.”

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?”

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core.

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries.

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor.

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?”

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.”

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy.

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?”

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink.

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?”

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 month

Text

Cyberpunk

housewifekeeper droid!jongho x programmer!reader

futuristic/apocalyptic droid au

genres and warnings: fluff, angst, established relationship, a bit tragic but no tears i hope :) yunho, woo and san cameos, violence warnings, hostage situation, near-death experiences, etc.

word count: 23.7k

synopsis: when you find jongho assigned to be a droid you need to 'fix', it takes everything in your power to pretend that you don't know him, that he isn't the boyfriend you left behind to keep safe. with no idea where you are and being under constant surveillance while trying to find a way to turn jongho back to human, you manage to run away with him only to learn a shocking and sinister truth that makes you regret ever being part of the eden droid project. you must put an end to your mistakes once and for all, and it may cost you a lot.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we call it cryberpunk bc it became the bane of our existence)

“You really think I’m incapable of taking care of myself?” you asked, making a face as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “I’ve been doing just fine so far, Sir.”

“You’ve lost a lot of weight ever since we woke up, so yes, you definitely haven’t been eating well. You can’t keep surviving on instant noodles,” your supervisor, Mr. Han said. “Besides, this is a good chance to test if the droids we’ve programmed can actually perform household tasks.”

“I did not programme droids to make food for us,” you muttered under your breath but you supposed that was the least of your worries right now. “I’m pretty sure you need a housekeeper more than me. A housewife, perhaps. You must miss your wife.”

Mr. Han only smiled in response and you felt annoyed by that. It was as if an unspoken rule had been passed- that no one could talk about their life before they ‘woke up’. You reckoned everyone was just keeping silent until one of them would complain out loud. It hadn’t been that long since that little episode so you figured no one was that desperate right now.

“It’s the Team Leader’s orders. Nothing I can do about it. Maybe I’ll get a droid next to drive me around- if they’ll allow it. It would be nice to have a look around this empty town and see if we’re the only ones awake while the rest of the world is asleep.”

“I don’t like this,” you pursed your lips, scratching your wrists. Something about all of this was making you anxious. “Just between you and me, are they really sus-”

Mr. Han shushed you with a finger on his lips, his eyes flickering in the direction of the CCTV in the corner of your office. “They’re testing out your droids, miss. You know what they say- a perfect droid should be as good in battle as it is in the kitchen.”

“Wasn’t that supposed to be a joke?” You muttered, deciding to leave it there. “It feels like a big joke. It’s like my droids are being insulted by being placed in the kitchen.”

“You thank the deities there isn’t a war right now,” Mr. Han almost whispered. “When everyone wakes up… there might be. And if there is a war in the future when every nation will possess their own set of droids, when you have to run for your life and are injured… who do you think will take care of you? Not a human, I’ll bet.”

Those words stuck with you during your ride back home. They kept looming over your head while you took a shower and changed into a comfortable set of light blue pyjamas. With a towel hat, you sauntered into the kitchen to make yourself coffee, looking in the fridge for something to snack on and finding nothing.

Perhaps you really did need a housekeeper. A droid- one that wouldn’t complain and would do as told.

And as the doorbell rang after a few minutes, you took your words back when you opened the door to a familiar face. The anxious feeling in your gut finally settled in resignation.

This was what you had been dreading.

A million thoughts processed in your head in a matter of seconds- maybe you could give the droids a run for your quick decision-making. Because you needed to make a big decision, right now.

It had to be some sick, twisted joke that Dr. Jin, Head of the Eden Droid Project, was playing with you. There was no way that this wasn’t intentional. Of all the 7 billion people in this world, they chose the one person you had been wishing would never appear in front of you- at least not until you were done wrapping up what you had begun.

Choi Jongho. Your best friend, the person you loved and had to leave for good.

The one person you had done everything in your power to hide from these people, from everyone. Hell, you didn’t even dare think of him ever since everything went downhill lest someone spy on your own thoughts.

And now he was here, and worse, a droid. A lab rat. His left pupil flickered blue to confirm that.

“I’m CJ, the droid assigned to take care of your personal needs.”

“CJ,” his codename rolled like a foreign language on your tongue, your voice coming out as almost a whimper but you cleared your throat. “CJ. The housewife, eh?”

The droid appeared confused and you, for the first time, loathed programming the droid’s facial expressions to sync with the human emotions. “I’m not quite sure…”

“The assistant,” you let out a short laugh. “I presume you have your identification files and code?”

Jongho said your team’s code out loud before handing you the files and you quickly looked over them. Assigned by your own team- how fucking convenient. You nodded and handed the files back, peeking behind him- looked like he had his personal belongings. “Please, enter and make yourself at home… I guess?”

“There’s another document you need to look at before I enter,” Jongho said almost mechanically, digging out a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and your brows rose in surprise when you saw that it was from Dr. Jin himself. Begrudgingly, you unsealed the letter and read the contents, the smile falling from your face when you were done.

“Alright,” you breathed. “I see how it is. You can enter now… CJ-”

You caught Jongho staring at you almost like he was fully human. Fear gripped your heart in that moment and when he only bowed in response, you stifled the sigh of relief. He stepped inside your apartment, looking around. He was probably scanning every nook and cranny for potential threats. When he was satisfied, he turned to you.

“Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“Tonight… nothing,” you nodded slowly as you thought. “I’ll show you your room and you can uh… rest? You should wake up at 7 tomorrow and prepare a light breakfast for the both of us before accompanying me to the office. That should be your first task.”

“Understood,” he said and you showed him the spare room and he assured you he had his basic personal necessities. You went to your room, the coffee long forgotten at the kitchen counter and you shut the door.

Make no mistakes.

You turned off the lights and went under the blankets, covering your face like you usually did- and that’s when you let out a shaky exhale and let your emotions take the better of you.

There could only be two reasons why Jongho was here as the droid assigned to you. The first one was pure coincidence- maybe he was just one of the other humans randomly selected by your team. Maybe this was all just bad luck. Maybe this was a slap on your face from the force above, since you dared to play god yourself.

But another possibility… the one that made more sense, was that they knew. They knew Jongho was someone important from your ‘previous’ life. From before you entered Phase I of the Eden Droid Project- . They must have known and were using that to their advantage, but either way…

Either way, Jongho wasn’t sent to assist you and play housewife. That was all bullshit. He had one purpose, and that was to have you under surveillance. That probably meant that the New Government was aware that you weren’t as loyal as you appeared to be. Perhaps, this was a test of your loyalty, and they were going to confirm it with the task that was detailed in that letter.

Fix CJ.

Two words, yet you understood the message. You were to live with the droid for a certain period of time and fix the only glitch your droids had- that they were too human. All the while, you would definitely be under surveillance by him. Perhaps, the Team Leader thought that giving you the space you needed with your own personal test subject was what you needed to finish debugging the droid. Perhaps, they knew you had been delaying fixing the droids on purpose. Whatever it was, you had no choice now.

You would have to fix Jongho or else you would be exterminated along with him.

—---------------------

It was almost unsettling waking up to the smell of eggs, butter and bread. For the few seconds that you lay in the bed, you almost thought you were back in your parent’s home and your mom’s voice would call you for breakfast or your sister Cookie would tickle you until you yell at her, but the bed was too soft and the blanket did not smell like the sun. The alarm rang only a few seconds later and on cue, two solid knocks sounded at the door.

“Miss Jeon? Breakfast is ready.”

God, you thought. This was going to be difficult.

You said you’d be out in 10 minutes and forced yourself to walk to the bathroom like every other day. Somehow, your steps felt heavier than the first day you woke up here. The feelings of disorientation and panic then were nothing compared to the anxiety that dissolved in your bones the moment you heard Jongho’s voice.

Whatever you did, you could not slip. You would have to keep on pretending that Jongho was just a stranger, a droid to you. Just a bug that needed fixing, you told yourself as you exited the room and walked towards the kitchen-

“I told you, the pan needs to be tapped in the middle of baking so the top of the brownies crinkle!” Jongho said as he took out the said pan, now with fully baked fudge brownies with a perfect crinkly top and you gasped at how good it looked. “Would you believe me if I say this really is my first try?”

“Looks too good to be a first try,” you admitted. “I’ll give my verdict after I taste these. Who knows? Might find an eggshell in there.”

“Hey, what do you take me for?!” Jongho looked offended and you grinned. He shook his head as he cut a piece for you and put it on your plate. You spotted a faint smile on his face and you dug your fork in the brownie, about to take that bite when he tsk-ed and held your wrist.

“You’ll burn your mouth,” he took the fork from your hand and you pouted. You watched him wait a few seconds, blow on that little bite before feeding it to you himself. Your eyes went wide as soon as you realised how rich the brownies tasted.

“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Jongho. You’ve just won my entire heart all over again.”

Jongho burst into laughter, looking down and you leaned across the counter to cup his face and make him look at you. “You look at me when you laugh like that, okay?”

“Stop it,” he wriggled away from you, a flustered mess. “Let me taste them.”

“Here,” you took your fork and blew on the new bite before handing it to him. He nodded in satisfaction. “Normally, I wouldn’t contribute to anything that would give you an ego-boost, but this one deserves it. Cookie won’t believe it when she hears about this.”

Jongho smiled once again, continuing to cut the rest of the brownies for later. “What did you mean when you said… that I won your heart again?”

You stifled your smile. “You want to hear it?”

Jongho looked expectantly at you in response. You scanned his figure- his hair messily swept back, flour on his cheeks, rolled sleeves baring his strong arms, and to top it all, your apron on him. Your smile grew wider.

“I fell in love with you all over again.”

“Miss Jeon?” Jongho called, frowning at the way you stood in the middle of the living room, your eyes stuck on the apron that wasn’t yours on the person who wasn’t yours. He wasn’t even the same person anymore.

“Sorry,” you gulped, shaking your head. “Needed a moment to process uh… what I’m seeing right now.”

Jongho didn’t respond and that finally made you move and sit at the table where he set down a mug of coffee. He would have retorted if things were normal and you smiled sadly to yourself at the thought. You heard the clink of the mug and when you saw Jongho pick up his own tray of breakfast and move, you cleared your throat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To eat my breakfast and give you privacy while you eat yours?”

This was the time to make things clear- better yet if you were being watched. You put one leg over the other before you said, “Look, I assume you know what you’re here for, CJ. Who are you?”

“A droid that needs a little fixing.”

“And how would I figure out what needs to be fixed if I don’t watch your every move?” You cocked your head. “Does that make you feel unsettled?”

“I do not feel, for I am a droid,” Jongho responded mechanically and you shook your head, urging him to join you. You detected reluctance in his movements and your heart sank a little.

“That’s the thing with you droids,” you almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “You forget that you are humans programmed to be droids. Until you possess human nature, you cannot be fixed… that’s what I believe. The superiors think otherwise. What do you think… droid?”

“I…” Jongho frowned again. “I’m just following orders.”

“I know,” you told him and he relaxed a bit. “We’ll need to interact and talk more for me to figure out what exactly needs to be fixed, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. You took a bite of the bread and he mirrored your actions. You ate the rest of your breakfast in silence, finishing together.

“I will examine your code when we go to the office,” you told Jongho. “You will need to guide me a little. I may have created the blueprint for you droids but I haven’t programmed every single one of you.”

“You can access my code only at the office, by the way,” Jongho said and you set your cup down, almost clenching your jaw as you looked at him. “I’ve been programmed to reveal my code files only in the office.”

“Have you now?” You scoffed internally. “Well, I’ve been programmed to be a lazy bum who works best in the comfort of her home and I’m human, so let’s see how we deal with this… predicament.”

Jongho almost looked curiously at you. You checked the time and told him to meet you outside in 10 minutes. Just before he took your car keys from you and opened the door, you sighed.

“Do you know how to make brownies, CJ?”

—--------------------------

“Don’t you think it’s ironic?” You said, sparing a glance at your supervisor who was examining the code on the shared screen right across from you. “We’re trying to find an error in a human. Being human is the error. How do we override the nature of who the droid really is- completely and irrevocably?”

Mr. Han had heard that quite a lot, and not just from you. Every programmer and developer in this project had asked him this question at least once, and he often found himself wondering the same too. “I’m highlighting this line of code, see what you can do about it.”

You looked back at your screen and clicked your tongue. “Not this one. That’s Dr. Seo.”

“Oh, then I won’t tweak it,” he said, scrolling further. You glanced at Jongho who lay on his front on a stretcher with a cord attached to his back to access the chip and its data inside. He was unconscious which you thought was convenient but every time he came back to consciousness, you were afraid he was going to recognise you, make a mistake and destroy everything you had worked for so far.

How could you tell Jongho to pretend he didn’t know you without telling him?

“You look spent. Shall we call it a day?” Mr. Han caught you staring at the droid’s body.

“Please, yes,” you stretched dramatically, producing cracks and he chuckled at that. “The amount of times I have zoned out today… I think I need a chip inside me that would override my mental stamina at least.”

“Says you,” Mr. Han scoffed. “The child prodigy. The kid that built the foundation of this project.”

Oh, how you regretted that. “Please, you flatter me way too much. I was only one coder with a few hundred others.”

“But you were the youngest and your work is our blueprint. I have every right to flatter you,” he said, his conclusion leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Dinner at the cafeteria?”

“Why would I? I have my own personal chef now,” you grinned.

“I thought you were against droids doing housework or something.”

“Yeah, well,” you finished shutting down the programme and unplugged Jongho. “This one is quite good at it.”

Jongho was, and it was making you realise a few things- muscle memory. Something you nor any coder so far had considered to be a factor worthy of attention. You noticed that when he made the brownies for you a few days ago and exactly at half-time, he opened the oven to tap the pan against the counter once.

It took everything in your power to not react to that. To not let your emotions take the better of you and maintain your composure. However, you did ask him if he had accessed some recipes recently before making the brownies and when he denied, you knew then. You knew that this was not only from memory but muscle memory.

Could this be the reason droids were not perfect? That their muscle memory was ingrained in them to the extent that no programme, no code so far had overridden it?

Whatever it was, you knew you had to keep this observation to yourself.

As Jongho started to regain consciousness, you maintained a certain distance between you two, glancing around- most of your colleagues had signed off for the day. There were only a few at the far end of the room and then there was Mr. Han who was just leaving for the cafeteria. You locked eyes with the droid and found your hands getting clammy when he started blinking rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. As soon as he looked at you, you started tapping on the desk lightly, waiting for something while praying for the opposite.

Waiting for him to look at what your fingers were tapping and praying that he wouldn’t recognise it, even if you were doing this to rock his human memory.

However, your prayers were actually answered this time and Jongho straightened as the confusion in his eyes disappeared. “CJ of Team 8.”

“That’s right, welcome back,” you sighed, tossing him his t-shirt and he wore it. It irked you a lot, how the droid was not reacting to having woken up from unconsciousness without clothes on his upper body. Jongho would have been a flustered mess.

This was not Jongho. He looked as different as he felt different.

“We’re done for the day,” you told him when he got up. “Are you feeling okay? Any haziness? Something off?”

“Perfectly fine, Miss,” he confirmed and you nodded.

“Let’s go, then,” you said.

Over the past few days, you had made no progress whatsoever with the droid assigned to you. You weren’t sure if people were expecting quick results from you- Mr. Han was monitoring each and every move you made in the office as if you weren’t already being surveilled by the droid itself. You were half certain that Mr. Han was also ordered to keep an eye on you but you’ve always had doubts about that man. His ‘fatherly’ nature was a little too overbearing and demanding at times.

You had no idea how long you were going to keep working on Jongho until he would be deemed ‘unfit’ like the other droids you had failed to save. Failed to fix, actually, but resultantly, they lost their lives. You could not do that to Jongho- perhaps, fixing him as a droid was the only way you could save him, but…

How could you do that to him?

How could you do that to him, you wondered as he set the table and settled down on the chair in front of you, saying his usual ‘enjoy your meal’ before digging in himself. You almost expected him to put a piece of meat in your bowl like he used to do before everything went wrong. You almost expected him to ask you what was wrong when you would zone out just like you were now-

“You’re not eating,” the droid said.

A simple statement, void of emotion, but…

Muscle memory.

Could this be what could really change everything?

“I… I’m just tired,” you said. The truth, but you wished you could tell him what exactly was going on. You put a spoonful in your mouth anyway.

“You worked overtime today,” Jongho said and you nodded. This droid had a knack for sounding way too human, or maybe you were over analysing everything because it was someone you were familiar with. “Would you like me to make you some tea after dinner?”

“No, thanks. I’ll make my own tea,” you scoffed to yourself. If his muscle memory was really still intact, he would get your tea just right and you were not prepared for that. “Isn’t it ironic, though?”

“What is ironic?”

“Humans have made so many machines for the sole purpose of serving them,” you ate another spoon as you watched Jongho, noticing that he needed a haircut now. “All these machines, and yet they would prefer a human to work in the kitchen.”

“A droid is not a human.”

“A droid is a human,” you corrected, locking eyes with him in challenge. “A machine is something like… that coffee-maker. That microwave,” you pointed. “Something like that, yeah? As long as you have a functioning heart, you are human.”

“Whatever you say, Miss,” Jongho said almost dismissively and you rolled your eyes at his automatic response.

“I wonder if humans need someone to work in the kitchen for them- for a specific taste that only humans can construct or to keep company or for whatever reason… why would they not send these heartless machines to fight for them? Why would they send humans?”

“A machine can only make so many decisions,” the droid said.

“Yeah, well, they want me to fully turn you into a machine,” you scoffed loudly. Damned be the consequences- if they were watching you, they should pay heed to your words. “What’s the point of you being a human-turned-droid then? We could have built a human shaped machine designed for war from scratch. We could install whatever thinking ability it needs.”

“But it would not think or make decisions like a human does.”

“Well, are you human right now, then?” You wondered and that finally got the droid to shut up. “Because you sure sound like one right now despite insisting that you are a droid.”

“Can’t a droid be both?” Jongho frowned and your eyes twitched in response- you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You searched his face for any signs of recognition but found none.

“I guess that’s why it has to be a human that gets turned into a machine,” you concluded. “A machine wouldn’t have asked me that question.”

Jongho didn’t react to that. He simply finished his meal and waited for you to finish before he cleared the table. You made yourself that cup of tea and looked over your code from today, wondering how you were going to proceed from here. If you were really being watched right now, you somehow needed to let Jongho know that he should not react when he recognises you. How were you going to pull that?

It was near impossible. And with that thought, you went to your room to prepare for the worst.

You were trapped in a town that wasn’t yours. Just like everyone else here, you had magically woken up in your new house, in your new room and had simply been instructed to follow the orders if you wanted to live- no further explanation. What you had gathered so far though was this whole thing had been planned since decades. The New Government- the group of people from all over the world who were the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project aimed to create an army of droids and then distribute them among the powerful nations so they could have the ultimate leverage over the less powerful nations and make them submit to them.

It was evil, it was twisted, and when you first began programming for robots instead of droids that were actually humans, you never would have thought that this was what it was going to come to. You worked with your friends Yunho and Wooyoung- an inseparable trio. As soon as your team sensed something darker, you all decided to leave and you cut ties with your family and friends, moving away without any explanation to attempt to make things right again. Your sister was the only one who had an inkling of what was going on and she had kept your parents calm but Jongho…

He didn’t deserve what you did to him, and now he was here. You were probably going to die by his hands. And maybe… maybe you deserved that.

You prayed your family was unconscious just like the common people who weren’t a part of this. Sometimes, you wondered if you had been fed a lie- sure, the world had progressed a lot but how could 99.9 percent of the world’s population be in a state of unconsciousness as they claimed? How was the world functioning? Machines could only handle so much especially if autorun, and droids couldn’t replace humans even if the world had progressed a lot in the past few decades. You were sure you had been brought to another piece of land and fed this lie so you would cooperate with them.

Whatever it was, you had no choice but to obey. You were not allowed to question anything. And if you gave up on this project and they killed you, it wouldn’t make a difference because someone else would eventually figure out how to fix the droids.

As you finished showering and sat down in front of the vanity, wrapped in your bathrobe to dry your hair, you wondered if this environment was created for the coders and programmers specifically so they could produce quick results. You felt like a lab rat and the fact that this might be true was making you nauseous. Just when you were about to settle down in bed, you heard the sound of a dull crash and you went to inspect- it looked like the sound came from the direction of Jongho’s room.

Sure enough, Jongho was picking himself up from the floor, brushing his clothes and when he looked at you, he flinched-

In pain.

You started tapping a single word on your thigh repeatedly, hoping he would understand it- just a simple ‘no’. No to whatever he was thinking, no to whatever he was about to do if he managed to get a few moments of clarity as a human. Jongho’s gaze fixed on your thigh and you asked him if everything was okay, continuing to tap that word.

“I heard a crash- did you trip or something? Are you having motor problems?”

“I…I don’t think so, I…” Jongho exhaled loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could rid him of the ache in his head. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Will you let me check if everything is good with you?”

“You can’t access my code here-”

“I actually can, I just haven’t been allowed to,” you told him. He must have known since he didn’t react much. Good, you thought. He was still CJ. “I’ll just have to override the security files… or we could head to the office. It’s going to take the same amount of time.”

“I think I’m fine,” he straightened. “You can check my code in the office in the morning, or right now- whatever you prefer, Miss.”

“Morning it is,” you shrugged, feeling defeated. “Goodnight-”

To your disbelief, Jongho was tapping something on his thigh as well. You did your best to appear nonchalant when he finished tapping a single command.

“Goodnight, Miss,” he said in his usual flat tone before turning to go back to his room. You took a deep breath before going back to your room and sitting at the edge of the bed as you translated his message.

Help.

—------------------------

You were more suspicious of everyone around you including Jongho now- now more than ever, especially since you just came back to your office after presenting your monthly progress-

Which was little to none, if you had to admit. You did try talking in circles but it never worked in front of the panel.

“You’ve been here for 3 months now, Miss Jeon,” Dr. Seo closed your files detailing your progress and winced as if the lack of your progress physically hurt him. “I can’t tell if you’re being stubborn or if you no longer want to be a part of this. Because there’s no way you haven’t figured it out already.”

“I… I appreciate that you believe in me so much, I really do,” you met eyes with all of your seniors who had seen through every step of your journey especially in the beginning, when things were normal. “But I’m sorry to admit that I really don’t see a future with what we’re trying to achieve. You simply cannot turn a human into a droid and not expect some drawbacks- it’s humans we’re dealing with, not machines.”

“But it has worked brilliantly so far with your help and everyone else’s who has been a part of this team,” Dr. Jin, one of the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project said. “And I’m sorry but I expected more from you.”

“Has anyone else figured it out yet?” You asked.

“It’s not that we’re comparing you,” his smirk was almost devilish as if he knew exactly what you were hiding. “It’s because we believe you’re the only one who will figure this out. What is the one thing keeping humans from becoming almost the perfect version of droids?”

“Their human nature,” you said.

“What part of it?” He shifted in his chair and you wiped your sweaty hands on your trousers. “Emotions? But you synced them. Is there a fault there, or is it something we haven’t even considered yet?”

You fell silent. They were definitely on to something.

“Should we have a meeting with the other brilliant coders of this project?” Dr. Seo attempted to break the tension in the air. “Maybe what all our coders need is to interact with each other and exchange ideas.”

You suddenly felt hope- you did consider the possibility that Yunho and Wooyoung were also here, forced to work just like you. If you could just meet them, if you could just see them-

“You know why we haven’t allowed them to meet,” Dr. Jin reprimanded. “I can only allow healthy discussions within the designated teams. Miss Jeon, if you need some help, we will accommodate you as best as we can, but I will have to ask you to be quicker with this. We do not have much time and if we do not come up with a solution first, if another nation beats us to it, we will lose our advantage. Don’t you want to go back home and be with your family?”

And that was it. The last straw.

You were aware that this was some sort of a race now. Whoever would figure out what was wrong with the droids would have the advantage- they could keep it from other nations. They could use that as a leverage because they would be the ones with an army of droids at their disposal. Droids that could make excellent spies, fighters, doctors, and whatnot. Droids that would be weapons for all the powerful and selfish leaders of this world, to use at their disposal when they terrorise the weaker nations into submission. Sure, this was nothing new- the world was always at war with each other but with droids in the question, it could go very wrong.

And the fact that they were using your family to bait you? The fact that most of the people here had something to lose if they refused to cooperate? How could you undo all of this? Every day, you cursed yourself for ever being a part of this project, for ever giving them the idea that led to this day, yet beating yourself over it would achieve nothing. You had to take action, soon. You couldn’t let them know that you had the answer already.

You had to wake Jongho up.

“Everything alright?” Mr. Han asked, having spotted you zoning out in the corner of the office next to the window, glancing at Jongho’s unconscious figure attached to the cords- you hadn’t paid much attention to him today. He approached you and opened a box, revealing an assortment of donuts. You smiled despite yourself, picking a glazed donut.

“I just came back from the monthly report presentation,” you told him and he hummed in understanding. “How did yours go?”

“They reminded me why we’re doing this,” he rolled his eyes and you scoffed. “As if I’ve forgotten.”

“Do you think we can figure it out before someone else does?” You asked casually and he looked at you for a few moments.

“It’s not that I have an insurmountable amount of belief in you,” he began and you relaxed. “You’re only human too, and it’s been tough to be away from what was normal, right?” You nodded and he continued. “But I really do think that you can do this. You just need some time. Should I ask them to allow you to work from home too?”

“I don’t think they will agree, but I appreciate it,” you smiled. “They’re doubtful for the right reasons too, after all.”

Mr. Han shrugged and gave you the box, asking you to share it with CJ when he woke up. “He must be having a hard time.”

“Don’t let the superiors hear that you’re empathising with a droid,” you whispered and he winked at you before he went to his station. You went to yours, hoping the office hours could quickly come to an end before you could unplug Jongho. But…

You needed to access all his code files. “Mr. Han?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I could be granted access to all the code files of this droid? Even if it’s just a preview? I think I should check if some other code is interfering with my code files.”

“Should I make a call?”

“If you can?” You asked and he nodded. You went back to pretending you were actually working and Mr. Han told you that you would know your answer in the morning.

You hoped they would agree, especially after today’s meeting. If they really thought that you’re the one who should debug the droids, maybe they needed to start trusting you more and stop hiding things.

And when you gain their trust and figure out how to save Jongho…

That’s when you would have to make a decision.

—-------------------------

You were not sure exactly what part of you sitting casually in the living room, watching TV with the smell of your favourite tea filling the room, a donut in your hand, rocked Jongho’s human memory but you watched him faint in front of your eyes and your jaw fell open in shock. You remained still as your own memory flashed in front of your eyes-

“Oh, what a sight,” Jongho shook his head as he entered his living room, finding you already having made home on his couch- a towel on your head and donut in your hand as you watched the TV while you waited for him to come back from the convenience store. Jongho put the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I found your teabags.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you gave him a look of gratitude before turning your attention to the drama. “I would have gone myself but you know how tired I feel after showering- it’s like a sign that my day is over and I should just relax.”

“Yeah, and how convenient for you that your boyfriend is willing to do anything for you, huh?”

“Of course,” you muttered absently, eyes widening at the turn of events playing in the drama. Jongho turned on the kettle and sneaked behind you, planting a kiss on your cheek that caught you by surprise and you looked at him as a smile made its way on your lips.

“What was that for?”

“For being cute?” He booped your nose before going back to the kitchen and pouring the hot water in the cup. You weren’t interested in the drama anymore- you turned your full attention to him. He hummed an unfamiliar song before bringing the cups to you.

“Did you leave some donuts for me or are they already long gone?”

��Of course I did,” you pouted. “Kept your favourite ones.”

“Good,” he slung his arm around your shoulders and you snuggled into him, making him laugh when your towel bumped with his face. You spent the next few minutes wrestling him as he tried to get the towel out of the way while you argued that on one condition- that he dry your hair for you. Jongho pouted in response, nothing going his way and you pecked his lips to make amends, handing him his favourite donut and he could only smile in defeat.

You poked the droid’s thigh with your bare feet- he really was unconscious. You sucked in an annoyed breath- how you wished there were no surveillance cameras in your living room. You moved Jongho’s limbs so he was in a more comfortable position and went back to what you were doing.

Sure, you couldn't do anything about this right now but you sure hoped that whoever was going to give you the pass for accessing Jongho’s code files in your home would see this moment and make his decision afterwards. For now, you finished your donut and tea and as soon as Jongho moved, you sat down on the floor next to him and began tapping on his thigh.

Don’t.

One single word, but perhaps Jongho’s mind was too hazy- his eyes widened in recognition and you subtly shook your head no but it wasn’t enough-

“What are you-”

“Ah, good thing you’re back,” you attempted to sound normal but perhaps your unusually high pitch betrayed you. “What do you think? I should be allowed to access your code files at home now, no?”

It wasn’t CJ- it was Jongho looking at you in confusion, and you were so glad your legs blocked the sight of Jongho linking his hand with yours and squeezing it in confusion, in desperation. You squeezed them back to assure him that you knew, that you could hear him even when he couldn’t speak. That you understood him even when he was not himself.

“Do you recall what you felt right before fainting?” You asked.

“Uh… confusion. Haziness.”

“All normal- are you feeling alright now? We can call for permission to access your code if you think it’s necessary right now, CJ.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered and he shut his eyes as if in pain. You immediately unlinked your hands and when he opened his eyes, the blue lens in his left eye flickered-

CJ was back.

The droid immediately started getting up and you followed, straightening your clothes awkwardly. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Would you like a donut?”

His brows furrowed in confusion and you went back to your seat, sliding the box towards him. When he opened it they were all half eaten- neatly cut in the middle.

“Sorry. I really had to taste all of the flavours. Kept a whole one for you, though. You might like it.”

You pointed at the chocolate-dipped donut and internally cursed yourself for asking him to join you for donuts. You had kept them to rock his memory but considering the events of today, you didn’t need to do that anyway. He stared at that donut for a long time before he finally picked it up to eat.

And you knew then- whatever happened tonight was enough. Whatever went through Jongho’s head tonight was enough- you didn’t have much time. You needed to save him before the human in him gets lost forever. With that thought, you went to your room.

To prepare for the battle ahead. One that might cost a lot of lives. One that was necessary to fight, to undo the damage you had done to this world.

—--------------------------

“Miss Jeon, I would advise you to drop your gun and talk it out,” Mr. Han’s fatherly tone almost made you put the gun you had been aiming at his direction down on the nearest surface and follow his orders- talk it out.

Except there was nothing to talk about anymore. Everything had gone so very wrong, so very quickly.

“And risk an arrest? Or worse? I’d rather not,” you attempted to scoff but it came out more like a whimper.

“Come on- what did you hear?” Mr. Han never moved the gun aimed for your head- good thing you were both stationed at opposite ends of the room.

“Oh? Should I have heard something then?” You cocked your head. “What I saw was enough.”

What you saw was the file on his desk regarding the self-destruct code installed in the droids that were assigned to different coders- including Jongho. You weren’t sure if it was a careless mistake or if he left it out on purpose for you to see- maybe it was a mistake since you rarely ever went to his part of the office. But your suspicions were confirmed- they had indeed installed some self-destruct files in Jongho in case someone tried to meddle with his code. So with that anger- with that boiling, seething anger, when you went to find Mr. Han and confront him, you spotted him in the next building through the window talking to none other than Dr. Jin.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was planned. Anger consumed you and within minutes, you were back in your office overriding Jongho’s code files and putting him to sleep and then hacking your building’s system to turn off the CCTVs- just like you had practised so many times in the past few days. They may have the best coders and programmers in this building and you probably had seconds, but…

They had forgotten that you were the pioneer of this damned project. You were what they were against, and you had to surprise them again, just like the first time you did when you were still a stupid teen who thought they did something smart. You attached a USB in the main PC with an auto-run file to keep the system glitching while you unplugged Jongho and hastily put his shirt back on his unconscious body.

You had a couple of minutes at most- you went to Mr. Han’s desk and grabbed all the files you could and stuffed them in your briefcase, taking out the gun you had slipped past the detectors a few days ago during a system crash episode- pure luck. The gun had been in your car for a while but as soon as you saw the chance, you slipped it into your office, not knowing you’d need it this soon. You weren’t surprised to see that Mr. Han kept a gun of his own- you were simply disappointed.

The lights flickered on and off and you figured the technicians must be having a tough time figuring out exactly what was wrong. You could hear your shallow breaths as you shifted your grip on the gun, the sweat from your palms making it feel slippery.

“If you think you know what’s happening here, you’re wrong, sweetheart,” Mr. Han shook his head. “I’ve been following orders just like you. I can’t believe you’re being this reckless when you too must have a family waiting for you. Someone they use as leverage against you.”

“Almost everyone is here against their will,” you corrected him. “You’re no different than the rest of them. So go ahead. Go ahead and shoot me, but if you do, you’ll lose everything and everyone you love. Eden cannot debug droids without me- I’m sure of it.”

“I never intended to shoot you,” he sighed, lowering his gun and you frowned. “If we’re not being watched right now… we don’t need to do this.”

“Aim your gun at me either way,” you told him and he obeyed. “Did you know that CJ was going to be assigned to me?”

“I knew a droid was going to be assigned to you, but not the specifics. Is there a problem with CJ?”

“A problem?” You scoffed. “Imagine you were in my shoes and it was your wife that was assigned to you as the droid you needed to fix. How would you feel?”

When Mr. Han paled visibly, you realised he may not have known CJ’s identity after all. “CJ… is he someone you know?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know everything, y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m only following orders and supervising you- though you hardly need that.”

“He’s the person I tried to protect all these years,” you bit your lips as you looked at Jongho’s limp figure on the stretcher. “Can you imagine how I’ve been feeling all along? I have to turn him into a droid or else he’ll be killed.”

“I’m sorry, I really am, y/n,” Mr. Han lowered his gun. “Damned be the consequences. What do you plan to do?”

“I’m going to run away,” you told him, lowering your own gun. “With CJ. He won’t self-destruct for now, I’ve taken care of it.”

“They’ll find you,” Mr. Han said. “There’s no way you can be on the road and not be found. The car must have a tracking device.”

“I took care of that too- all it will take is a click. As for them spotting me… I think I know how to take care of that as well…”

“Of course you do,” Mr. Han laughed in disbelief. “Tell me… you know how to fix the droids, don’t you?”

When you didn’t respond, he nodded. “Tell you what- you can do whatever you want from here, but never, ever fix the droids, okay? You hear me?”

You passed a weak smile in response and he finally approached you, emptying his gun and handing you the extra bullets. “I won’t need them.”

“They’ll punish you for letting me go.”

“You can knock me out- I’ll play dumb for as long as I can,” he grinned. “Besides, I don’t think the cameras caught me entering the office.”

“Can you help me get Jongho in the car first?”

Which was how a few minutes later, you found yourself on the road, a jamming device fixed on the dashboard to make the surveillance cameras glitch whenever you would pass. You sped through the unfamiliar roads but you knew you would need to ditch your car soon- there was no way you could blend in when this was a black SUV with the office plate. You looked around the billboards and the street signs for any clue of your location but they were all blank or painted over. The only guide you had was the map in the car but that turned off as soon as you strayed away from your usual path.

You considered waking Jongho up and asking for help but there was no guarantee he wasn’t going to try something that would cost you both a lot. You decided to keep going forward and look for an abandoned building- it was getting dark and you needed to sort this mess out before you could proceed forward. Sure, you had prepared beforehand- you had everything you needed in the trunk of your car, discreetly putting necessities in the bag day after day since the beginning. From tools to clothes to food, you had everything.

Now you just needed to take care of Jongho- currently sprawled across the backseat, his hands fastened with a cable tie. You had no doubts he could still overpower you but for now, you had to make do with what you had. So when you spotted an empty area of the town with a few warehouses, you decided to take a chance and make home in one of them. You parked your car in the narrow space between two warehouses, deciding to hide it later with the empty tubs lined next to the walls. You searched the car for a physical tracking device and when you found it, you crushed it under your feet- you needed to take the jamming device inside with you so this was necessary. Then you turned off the infotainment system for good and finally sighed in relief.

You had done it- you finally ran away.

Just like you had run away from home two years ago.

You looked at Jongho from the front mirror and recalled the last day you had spent with him and your family- a memory you had kept in your heart as the days following got lonelier and regretful-

“Wonder what’s gotten into her,” your sister, Cookie, whispered to Jongho. “Did you propose to her? Is she showing off her housewife skills? Which are little to none, by the way…”

“Please,” Jongho scoffed. “I think she’s just collectively going to poison us all. She’s still sour about how we ditched her to go hiking last weekend, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, well that would make more sense,” Cookie said. “But it was her fault- I asked but she was too busy with her little codes to process what I said and told me to get out. That’s a no, right?”

“Definitely-”

“I can hear you both, you know,” you said, looking at the two. While at other times, you would have chucked something at them and ensued chaos, this time, you simply smiled at the sigh of your little sister and your boyfriend standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched you arrange everything you had cooked (or bought- they didn’t need to know that) on the trays. When you were finally pleased with the presentation, you asked them to help you take the trays out to the backyard where you were going to have a little party- all of you.

The two obeyed and marched outside singing another song that you didn’t know- Jongho and your sister got along way too well and were usually partnering against you. He probably adored her more than you but your sister was smart and knew she had to be on good terms with him so he could spoil her- and spoil he did.

Your heart ached at the sight of the two and you prayed they would stay like this forever- happy. Even without you. You hoped they could fill your absence in the house and make your parents feel better.

Jongho’s parents cheered for you when you came out. “This is something your sister usually plans but we’re glad you’re not holed up in your room for once.”

“Thanks, uncle,” you laughed. “Just wanted a little breather.”

“You should have joined us last weekend!” His mom sighed in happiness. “The view was so good and the air so fresh. I think I feel younger ever since I came back.”

“I thought you felt older- you were complaining about your kneecaps- ow!” Jongho earned a smack on the back of his head from you and everyone laughed at that. Your mom patted the space next to her and you took the seat, urging her to try the sandwiches you made. The air filled with the sound of their laughs and you felt warm all over as you looked at each one of them, not saying much but committing this memory to your heart.

You went to take a walk with Jongho later that night to share a beer and go to the park to sit on the swings and relax. Jongho asked you if everything was okay- he never missed anything.

“Perfectly fine,” you assured him. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today.”

“Me neither,” he smiled and you clicked your cans before drinking. “You’re a bit different today, y/n. If something is bothering you… you can tell me, you know that, right?”

“I know. I trust you, Jongho,” you looked at him. “You know that you’re the one person I trust the most in this world, right?”

Jongho frowned at the sudden confession but nodded. You continued. “And you know that I love you, right?”

Jongho would have gotten flustered and teased you but tonight, he noticed the sadness in your voice. “What is up with you? What are you planning?”

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Just wanted to tell you this before the night is over.”

Jongho narrowed his eyes but when you didn’t give in, he sighed.

“I don’t know what the matter is, but I hope you know that I trust you too. And I love you too. You’re not alone. You know that, right?”

“I know,” your smile was genuine. “I know.”

And the fact that you were not alone was what needed to change. In the middle of the night, you packed your necessities and left the note for your sister in her room by her bedside which said that you ran away to protect them and you would return soon, but no one could know. You told her to stay strong for you and help the rest cope. You apologised for the burden you gave her but she knew- she had seen you cry in your room for so many nights. She knew you had done something and the guilt was eating you up. She knew it was related to your job.

You prayed Jongho would remember the conversation you had with him and not blame himself.

Perhaps, he did blame himself. Perhaps he never gave up trying to find you, which was how they found him. Maybe running away wasn’t the best choice since they found Jongho anyway- your eyes welled up with tears at the thought of all the lost time, the years you could have spent with your family. Maybe you would never see them again now. With tears rolling down your cheeks and a blurry vision, you surveyed the area and deciding that it looked safe enough for now, you dragged Jongho inside and propped him on a bench, coughing due to the dust. You took off his shirt again and plugged him to your laptop- there were some things you needed to get done immediately- check if you were being tracked, check if Jongho’s trackers were all blocked now, see if there were any signals nearby- droids or not, and finally-

Find out your coordinates.

—-----------------------------

“We are not in the office.”

“Clearly,” you muttered, hugging yourself tighter with your folded arms as you looked at the droid seated in front of you, unbound this time. The droid scanned the new environment, his eyes lingering at the odd things in front of him- especially at the cord and your laptop, your bags and the packets of snacks sprawled on the table between you.

“This is unauthorised,” Jongho stated.

“Yes,” you admitted. “What are you programmed to do in case you find yourself in a situation like this?”

“Find my way back. If I cannot, I will have to activate the self-destruct code.”

“Going to be quite an explosion, huh?” You sighed.

“It will be very dangerous for you, yes,” he looked down at his limbs. Was he surprised that he was untied for once? “Why are we here?”

“Are you programmed to find out the reason for your unauthorised absence before you make a decision?”

He wasn’t. You got that from the red flicker in his usually blue lens in the left eye. This was the humane curiosity in him questioning things a droid shouldn’t have cared about. You shifted in your position- you hadn’t really planned this conversation so you would have to tread carefully from here on.

“Jongho,” you locked eyes with him. “What is the next step that you are going to take?”

“I can’t access the server,” Jongho frowned. “My code has been altered.”

“You didn’t ask how I know your name,” you whispered. “Choi Jongho. Don’t you remember me?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” an unrelenting answer from a droid.

“Are you programmed to self-destruct if your identity is found out?” You asked. He shook his head no. “Interesting. That can only mean they sent you to me knowing we had history. Do you remember the last time you saw me?”

“In the office-”

“No, you, Choi Jongho. Not CJ. You,” you insisted and he finally frowned- it was working. “How did you feel to learn that I ran away?”

“I… don’t know.”

“You know,” you told him. “Your memories are just locked away. Deep inside, here,” you tapped your temple. “All you gotta do is dig in and think. Remember when you, CJ, saw me with the donuts? Did it rock a memory of yours?”

When he didn’t respond and continued to stare at you, his lens flickering, you leaned forward. “How did you know how I like my tea?”

That was another odd thing that took place a few days ago. No one could make your tea the way you liked it. Only Jongho knew, and only he could make it perfectly every time. Sometimes you wondered if you simply liked the drink he made because he was the one who made it.

“I don’t know. I just made it how I learned to-”

“Learned from where?” You asked. “From me. We learned to make it together, Jongho. Two dips, let it sit, add exactly 1/4th spoon of honey and dip thrice. Don’t mix it, let it sit for exactly two minutes before you take the teabag out and mix the honey. How did you know? It’s your muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.”

Jongho’s eyes widened just a fraction and you relaxed. You had him now. “We’ve been so close to home all this time, Jongho. I found out where we are- only a few hundred miles away from home, an abandoned town. I thought we were someplace else entirely. I thought only we were the ones awake and the rest of the world was asleep- surely they would have searched for you if not for me, right?”

He shook his head as if in disbelief of what he was hearing. You sighed. “How did they find you, Jongho? Did they find you… or did you find them?”

“Y/n.”

Even though your name was called in warning, your lips parted in surprise because this wasn’t CJ- this was Jongho who called your name. And goodness, how long had it been since the last time you heard your name roll from his lips? How long had you waited for this moment?

You shifted to get up but he raised a hand in the air, muttering ‘don’t’ and you sat right back down. His eyes twitched in pain and he groaned deeply. “You need to get out of here- leave me here and run.”

“Jongho-”

“You haven’t deactivated any trackers- they know you’re here, they meant for this to happen-”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered, blood rushing to your head and making your vision darken for a moment.

“They even know what we’re talking about right now,” Jongho cried out and you put a hand on your mouth in sheer horror, sweat taking root in every pore of your body.

Muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.

Oh, how absolutely foolish you had been. Jongho got up and whispered, “They’re near.”

You mirrored his actions but almost fell on the floor due to the dizziness- everything was too much. This is not happening. Nothing made sense anymore- you had deactivated every tracker- how could they have found you-

There was a tracker on you.

How could you have been so incredibly stupid?

Jongho reached you in a hurry, the lens no longer a blue or red but simply transparent, revealing his brown orbs as he grabbed you by the arms and shook you a little. “Come to your senses, y/n. You have to get out of here- I don’t know what they’ll do with us. I’ll stay back and distract them-”

“No,” you cried, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. “I’ve run away once. I won’t run away again.”

“This is not running away,” he smiled a little as if it finally dawned on him that he was here so close to you, he was human and he had you in his arms. His hands were steady as they found your face, tucking your hair behind so lovingly, eyes travelling on every inch of your face.

“Don’t you look at me like it’s the last time,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me, Jongho.”

But perhaps, it wasn’t meant to be. Not this time. You heard the unmistakable sound of vehicles- not one but too many vehicles circling the warehouse. Jongho sighed in defeat yet from the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, it seemed like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here. He cupped your face and leaned in, locking his lips with yours and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally found a reason to. He kissed you surely and soundly, breaking apart to wrap his arms around you, his fingers on your back tapping rhythmically-

Morse code.

“What-”

“Shh,” he urged, tapping again. “Everything will be okay. Don’t forget this moment, alright?”

You nodded and buried your face in his chest- your safe space. “Have you forgiven me for running away?” You asked as the sound of the door being slammed open echoed in the warehouse- so loud yet the sound of his dull heartbeat was louder.

“Oh, we will talk about that. One day,” he assured you. “But for now… I love you, y/n. I hope you remember that.”

“I hope you remember that I love you,” you countered, breaking away just to get a good look at his face, at his messy curls falling on his forehead, at the absolute adoration in his eyes replaced by devastation when the soldiers who came barging in pulled you from him harshly and the last thing you saw was him screaming your name before you felt something slam against your head and the roaring in your ears finally came to a silence. You welcomed the darkness this time.

—-------------------------

“Y/n! Will you please wake up? I need to go to the convenience store and I need some company!”

“Go alone, Cookie” you groaned, “Let me sleep some more.”

“I’ll treat you to fried chicken.”

Now that was something worth opening an eye to take a good look at your little sister. Was she bribing you? Clearly. Was it working?

“Give me 15 minutes,” you said, getting up with a groan and she grinned. “I need to get ready.”

“It’s almost evening so take a jacket, you’ve been out cold for far too long. Thought I’d let you know the day has ended!” Cookie called as she left your room.

Perhaps, getting up immediately was a mistake- it seemed like all the blood rushed down from your head and you fell back on your bed unceremoniously. You groaned in pain- why were you having the worst headache of your life?

When you felt stable enough to move, you made your way to the toilet and washed your face, noticing a fading bruise on your left temple. Now how did you get that? You reached for your toothbrush-

It was not there. Odd. You did not remember throwing it away- if you did, where was the replacement? Groggily, you made your way back to your room to check the cupboard where you kept your supplies and found no signs of a toothbrush.

“Cookie, what prank are you playing with me now?”

“What do you mean?” She called from her room.

“Where did you hide my toothbrush?”

“Why would I hide your toothbrush?”

“To prank me?” You yelled in frustration. “I won’t go to the store with you if you keep this up.”

You heard the angry pads of her footsteps. “Look, that prank was one time. You were so mad I wouldn’t try it again.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “The smirk on your lips says otherwise.”

“That’s just me finding this funny,” she flipped her hair dramatically as she went back to her room and you sighed deeply, the voice of your mom calling your names in warning stirring something deep inside you.

I will not cry over a missing toothbrush, you told yourself and got ready, wearing a denim jacket over a casual outfit. You went into the living room to drink some water and when you turned-

You almost dropped your glass.

“Can you pour me a little too?” Your mom asked and you found your mouth going dry, nodding subconsciously as you reached for another glass. You watched her drink- why did it look like she had aged a whole lot since you last saw her? Didn’t you just see her last night? Didn’t you spot the grey in her hair, the wrinkles around her eyes ever before?

Or maybe you always saw her but never cared to look. Your mom made a face at you, making you laugh a little as you broke out of your trance. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “I was just counting your grey hairs.”

“Y/n,” she laughed loudly. “I think this is my sign to book a salon appointment.”

“Yes, mother!” Cookie came in, squeezing her shoulders. “You should get your grey strands dyed a fun colour- like pink.”

“Oh, come on, what will your dad think?”

“I think he’ll like it,” she winked. “We’re going out- be back before curfew!” Cookie grabbed your hand and dragged you out before your mom could say her usual chant- stay safe, don’t do stupid things, don’t fight, and so on. It seemed like forever since you had heard that and a part of you wished you had stayed to hear it.

Before you knew it, you were deep in a heated discussion about school being fun versus school being a bad memory. Of course, for Cookie, everything was fun. It was kind of endearing how she always saw the positive in everything and made sure to enjoy every moment. You, however, were the pessimistic of the two, though you preferred the term ‘realist’. School did have fun moments, yes, but you didn’t have a normal school experience at all- you were always working with the teachers and seniors who could code. While that was the beginning of your career, you didn’t get to interact with people much and they didn’t make an effort when you had some normal moments.

It was a relief then that Jongho was in your class and never made you feel alone, you wondered as you finished the argument with your sister and the food. She was paying the bill- a rare occurrence because ever since you started working at a very young age, you made sure to spoil her (a mistake- the brat learned that she could convince you to get her anything). Cookie turned to smirk in some sense of superiority she felt for having treated you and you let her have that moment, chuckling as you exited.

“Ah, the weather’s nice,” you looked up at the sky- it was too cloudy to see any stars. “I’m craving beer. When will you get old enough for beer?”

“Just a few more months, sis. We’ll see who’s the better drinker out of us.”

“Yeah, I might be bad, but you can’t beat Jong-”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Cookie pointed at a cafe at the end of the street. “I heard they’ve added cookies to their menu. Let’s get some to take home.”

You rolled your eyes. There was a reason you called her Cookie. Before you could protest, she was already speed-walking, her short hair flowing behind her and you struggled to catch up, looking at your surroundings.

“Yo, wasn’t there a barbeque place here?”

Cookie paused to look at you. “That was like what- two? Three years ago? You should really leave the house more. Being cooped up in your room all day is doing something to your memory, I swear-”

“It’s not that,” you, for once, didn’t argue, telling her to get some for dad too while you decided to wait outside.

Why did everything feel so… new? Tangible? You looked at your hand, moving it- were you dissociating? Was it that strange realisation that you were real? But it didn’t explain the ache in your heart since the moment you opened your eyes today. And you were glad Cookie was lost in her own thoughts on the short walk back home, giving you time to think. Just like always, you made a tray with cookies and milk and knocked on your parents’ room, entering when they gave the signal.

“Oh, dear,” your dad sighed in happiness. “Just what I wanted.”

“Long day?” You asked, grinning when they took the tray and placed it on the bed.

“Not really, but was just craving something sweet,” he smiled and you scanned his face- again, the sadness in his eyes was something unfamiliar to you.

“Well, enjoy your cookies. My Cookie is waiting for me outside.”

“Always attached at the hip,” your mom shook her head. “I don’t know how they do that when she’s home all day and the little one is rarely ever home.”

You scoffed when they continued that discussion, exiting the room to see Cookie smiling cheekily with the box of cookies open and one glass of milk-

“Cookie.”

“I don’t like milk!” She protested. “You drink milk. I only dip- why do I need a new glass?”

“I don’t like to dip cookies in the milk!” You argued, sitting across from her. “I don’t like the crumbs you leave!”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” She pouted. “You won’t drink the leftover milk if I get my own glass?”

“Nope,” you shook your head sternly. “Want me to call Jongho over? He can share with you.”

“And who’s Jongho?” Cookie frowned.

“Oh, please,” you took a bite of the chocolatey goodness. “As if this prank is gonna work on me.”

“No, but seriously, who’s Jongho?” Cookie wriggled her brows. “New imaginary boyfriend?”

“Imaginary?”

“Yes, imaginary. How would you find a boyfriend when you’re home alone- oh, is Jongho a bot?”

You rolled your eyes so hard that you felt an ache. You unlocked your phone to dial his number but found no contact saved. Frowning, you typed his number- did you accidentally delete his contact info?

“This number does not exist.”

“Strange,” you muttered. “Did Jongho change his number? Did you know about this and decided to prank me because of this?”

“Aren’t you the one pranking me right now?” Cookie actually paused to stare at you. “Who’s Jongho?”

“Choi Jongho? The neighbour kid? Your best friend? Your big brother? My boyfriend? Do I need to say more?” You laughed in disbelief. “Don’t push my buttons by taking it too far.”

“Y/n, are you… are you okay? We don’t know anyone named Jongho. And what do you mean the neighbour’s kid? They never had one- they moved two years ago, don’t you remember?”

Two years. You were hearing this number a lot today. You went to your room to grab a photo of Jongho and slam it on your sister’s face but the grid on your desk only had polaroids of you and your family- no signs of Jongho. Feeling the hair on your neck rise, you unlocked your phone again to find some photos but again, no signs of him. You started sprawling through your drawers, checking your laptops, the pockets of your clothes, your eyes a blurry mess and when you heard the small voice of your sister calling your name, you looked at her.

“Where did you hide the photos? Please tell me, I need to look at him-”

“Y/n, come to your senses,” she sank down on her knees in front of you. “Who are you talking about?”

You glared at her before snatching your hands and marching to her room- you examined the grid on her desk- again, no signs of Jongho. You went through the things on her desk, opening the drawers-

“What are you doing?” Cookie whimpered and you turned to see her crying as well. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with you, tell me.”

This couldn’t be happening. “It’s Jongho, don’t you remember? The one who taught you how to ride a bike? The one who protected you when you were being picked on in elementary school?” Tears rolled down in succession on both your faces- one trying to pick all the pieces that were threatening to disappear and the other trying to make sense of them. “Jongho, the one you called big brother? The milk to your cookie? The jelly to your peanut butter? Don’t you remember?”

“I- I don’t,” Cookie cried harder, sinking to the floor and breathing as if something was consuming her from the inside.

“My Jongho, Cookie,” you whispered, gripping her desk. “The love of my life. You had a whole document on your computer about all your plans for our wedding- you made that when you were ten,” you laughed and Cookie chuckled as well, crying harder. “How can you forget?”

“I don’t know!” Cookie’s voice was loud in denial. “I don’t know him!”

“Don’t you remember when I made food for all of you and you teased us about marriage and how I was preparing to be a housewife?” You laughed at the memory, Cookie’s ‘you made food?!’ indicating she was somehow more surprised to hear that. “We had that little party in the garden, his family and ours, remember?”

“That was-” Cookie paused, frowning. “I remember a party in the garden but… there were our neighbours there, yes, but not someone named Jongho- that was two years ago, right?”

Two years.

“Why did we have that party? Why did you make food?” Cookie looked at you, partly horrified as the dreadful realisation made its way to your mind.

“I… we had that party because I was going to run away. I… I ran away- how am I here?” You looked at your hands and then at Cookie. “How am I here?”

“Uh… this is your home?”

Home. You hadn’t stepped inside your home in two years.

It all started coming back to you in a series of chronological events- from that party to you running away from home and living in a studio apartment that Jeong Yunho had arranged for you. The two of you working to undo everything about that damned project that you could-

That damned project.

Droids.

“Oh… oh goodness-” you rushed to the toilet as a wave of nausea overtook you and threw up, groaning as you clutched your hair- Cookie was quick enough to help take care of your hair while you threw up some more, sobbing along. Your sister was also wise enough to shut the door and let you sob a little before urging you to get up and wash your face, helping you clean up. Once you were done and you had downed a glass of water, Cookie took you to her room and made you wrap a blanket around yourself- necessary at this point since you were shivering.

“You need to start making sense now. What’s happening?”

You looked at your little sister. You hadn't seen her in two whole years, and she had grown so much in that time. She was also an inch taller than you now, you had noticed while walking. “Do you remember what we did yesterday?”

“Of course,” Cookie folded her arms. “You were in your room all day-”

“And the day before?” You asked. “And the day before that?”

Cookie’s brows finally unfurrowed in realisation. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember the note I gave you two years ago?” You asked. “The one that told you I was running away?”

When it looked like she was still lost, you sighed deeply, looking around. “If I gave you a note that told you that I was going to run away but you could tell no one that I’m running away for a reason… that I’ll be back and you have to take care of everyone… where would you hide it, knowing you have to pretend you know nothing as well?”

“I don’t know,” Cookie sighed in frustration. “Why don’t I remember?”

“You’ll get your answers,” you got up, running your fingers along her bookshelf. “Where would you hide something like a secret note? Think, Cookie. They couldn’t have searched that deep, they couldn’t have found that.”

Cookie got up, looking around, and almost mechanically, she went for her underwear drawer and despite everything, you laughed. Of course. No one would dare rummage through her private things- but it got better. She had it taped on the inside of a bra.

“I don’t wear this one, so,” Cookie admitted and you shook your head, watching her open the note and read it again and again. “Make it make sense.”

“Where do I start?”

“From the beginning. Tell me everything.”

—------------------------------

Seeing a familiar face after riding a train all day was what finally gave you some strength to believe that things would be alright, and what finally put a smile on your face as you walked to your mentor, partner-in-crime (quite literally) and old friend, Jeong Yunho. When he spread his arms with a sad smile on his face, you didn’t hesitate to hug him, muttering how sorry you were to learn that he went through something quite similar to what you did.

“I’m just glad you’re safe, little one,” he broke the hug to look at you. “Are we sure there’s no tracker on you?”

“None- they put one on here,” you turned your arm to tap your shoulder blade. “Almost like a needle, Yunho. I would have missed it.”

“What did you do with it? If it’s stationary, they would know-”

“I put it on my sister,” you grinned. “And told her to act like me until I’m back.”

“Hoho, look at you,” he scoffed in amusement. “Finally told her everything?”

“Had to,” you sighed. “And this was the one step that I did not want to take, but she suggested that she could hold the tracker for me,” you handed one of your bags to Yunho who opened his car trunk and tossed it inside. When you were seated on his passenger seat, you asked, “How’s your brother?”

“Oh, all good. He forbade me to come back to the office after he saw the state I was in- broken limbs and everything. I don’t know how I managed to run away. Only a few months later and when I tell him you need me? He lends me his car with a threat that I better bring it back unscratched.”

“Damn,” you whistled. “Better keep that promise.”

“What about you, y/n?” He asked.

“Do you remember how they took me? That part is still a bit blurry.”

“I thought they tailed me and found your apartment, but turns out you were just unlucky and they spotted you when you were going to Wooyoung’s place. They tailed you- I tailed them- it was a mess. Wooyoung and I barely managed to escape and when we opened our eyes, we were tied to chairs.”

“You were tied? Alone? Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “They should have tied my legs better- I walked around with the chair tied to me until I found someone and they helped us.”

“I can’t believe I missed that sight,” you exhaled in disappointment and he shook his head.

“You should have seen yourself. I thought they killed you or something. What happened after?”

“Well… I woke up in a new world, Yunho. All futuristic with savvy tech and whatnot. It didn’t look like home. I was alone in a luxurious apartment that wasn’t mine, with a set of instructions to follow. Once I got to the office, I learned that all of us who were present had something to do with the Eden Droid Project- or something to contribute. There were coders, engineers, doctors, literally everyone they could find. We couldn’t ask questions, we weren’t allowed to talk other than for work, and we were watched like hawks. We were made to believe that only we were the ones awake while the rest of the world was on pause. Honestly, if there weren’t people like us there, it would have been so much more difficult.”

“Was there someone you knew there?”

“Dr. Seo. Dr. Jin. The big brains behind the Eden Droid Project- you remember them, right?”

“By faces, yes,” he asked you to hand his water bottle and drank a few sips while he drove on the highway. “So… what next?”

“My team- we were all tasked to work together to fix the droids. The droids that I programmed and the codes that Dr. Jin took forcefully from me when we were his interns.”

“He should have waited until we had perfected them,” Yunho scoffed and you mirrored that.

“So it’s all starting to feel normal, a month passes. I realise I need to somehow run away and expose what they’re doing, but I have literally no idea what my location is and there’s no one to trust. And to make things worse, they have this brilliant idea to assign Jongho to me. They turned him into a droid, Yunho.”

“Oh… crap,” Yunho glanced at you. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” you pursed your lips. “They decided that I needed to monitor a droid closely and figure out what was interfering with his droid mechanisms. They knew who he was and what he meant to me. They must have had a good laugh seeing me pretend I didn’t know him.

“Anyways, he’s not functioning properly as a droid- seeing me triggers him into remembering whatever memories they’ve locked away inside his brain. I can see that he’s suffering, yet I can do nothing about it, even when he tells me to help. I trust the first person who acted like he cared- Mr. Han, my team’s supervisor. He does help me escape but…”

“But it’s all a part of their plan.”

“Bingo,” you sighed. “I run away with his help, take Jongho far away from all of this, block every tracker and finally get Jongho to feel human long enough to speak- and he tells me what this- all of this was a part of their plan. This was like a simulation for me- I was a player in their game and they waited until I won- or thought so. That’s when they got their answer to the question- what was making droids not act like humans?”

“What?”

“The link between their subconscious brain and muscle memory, Yunho. That’s been the key this whole time.”

“Oh. Oh!” Yunho almost stopped his car in excitement. “How did we miss that?”

“There’s a reason they got Jongho to be a player too,” you shook your head. “Did you find any signs of him?”

“Not yet, but I will continue my search tonight,” Yunho said. “Why did they let you go, though?”

“I don’t know,” you sank down in your seat, hugging yourself. “I woke up back in my house and they made it look like I had been there all this time. But… strangely, only I remembered Jongho. They locked away everyone’s memories, wiped any physical signs of him- whatever they could find. Cookie forgot who Jongho was too- she still doesn’t remember but she believes me thanks to the note I gave her before I ran away two years ago.”

“If they knew where you lived during that span of two years, they would have made it look like you were there all along. That might have been more believable for you, and could have worked- but maybe not. Wooyoung and I would have found you anyway.”

“Does he still blame me for what happened two years ago?”

You, Wooyoung and Yunho were teammates in the initial days of the Eden Droid Project. You were their supervisor and leading the project, and Wooyoung always had qualms about what you all did- rightfully so. When everything went wrong, you had an argument and a falling out with him. Yunho tried for a long time to get you two to talk to each other but without success so he let you two be. You and Wooyoung did often share your files as you all were working to expose the project but that was it.

“He’s forgiven you. He forgave you long ago- he was just being stubborn,” Yunho chuckled. “When he learned you were taken, he’s the one who tried the hardest to find you. Harder than me too.”

“God, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckled. “Do I get to meet him now?”

“Oh, yes,” Yunho grinned. “He’s waiting for you- party hat and all.”

“No way.”

He was. Party hat and all. You couldn’t believe how much he changed- his hair was longer, he looked more mature, but he still had those fierce eyes and lovely smile. He greeted you with a glare but as soon as your smile fell, he laughed and you finally joined, smacking the hat on his head before hugging him.

“I’m just glad to see you’re unscratched- oh, that looks painful.”

“Glad to see you’re in good spirits too,” you touched your temple- the bruise didn’t hurt anymore but it was an ugly shade of green now. “What did I miss?”

“What did we miss?” Wooyoung turned to get the tofu lying on the table.

“Yep- that certainly was no less than a prison,” you laughed, your stomach growling at the sight of the variety of food on the table. “Can we talk while we eat?”

And so, you briefed them of your ‘prison time’ again, connecting the dots with their help- they intended only to get you from the beginning because only you could have solved that mystery of why the droids acted so much like humans- the link between their subconscious memories and muscle memory was too strong. You could lock away a person’s memory, sure, but the subconscious was something you hadn’t messed with yet, and never intended to either. The reason the people of that project could manipulate memories was because of your team too.

When the three of you were interns in the Droid Project, they had told you to code for machines, not humans. That was how you began. Artificial intelligence was nothing new, you were just aiming to take it to the next level. When they told you that you needed to start coding to make droids, they talked about a better world- a world where soldiers could be able to fight better to defend their land. A world where a doctor could hold an insurmountable amount of knowledge and skills. A world where a patient wouldn’t have to feel all of the pain he would be in. A world where, they mused, you could cook anything you like for yourself without having to go through the trouble of thinking if you were capable. It wasn’t such a bad idea to code for that world.

But it was Wooyoung who accidentally heard what the real deal was. And when he told you both, you hacked into several databases to find out what they really intended to do with droids- and oh, the revelation was startling enough to make you all cry. You couldn’t believe that they used teens to make the blueprint for a world where the Elites- the people of power- would be controlling the droids to make the rest of the world submit to them. This world wasn’t their playground, and they shouldn’t play gods- with that message, the three of you ran away.

And now you were here with the consequences of your actions, with no idea if Jongho was okay. You couldn’t sleep for the past two days and when Wooyoung saw you zoning out in front of the fire in the backyard instead of being in bed, he decided to share a beer with you.

“You look like you have an idea but you’re worried how it will play out,” he observed.

“I mean…” you wrapped your shawl tighter around you. “It can’t get any worse, can it?”

“If they still think you’re back at your home, you might have a chance. They’ll be unsuspecting- we just need to hack into their system and get the Panel to listen.”

The Panel being a group of coders and developers who were, at one point, part of the Droid Project but left just like you. Yunho told you that ever since you were taken, they had been quick with contacting world leaders and giving them a sign that something dark was unravelling right under their noses. He didn’t tell you the identity of those people and you didn’t ask- you trusted him enough to take the right steps. He also told you that they were trying to find a way to get Eden’s military to side with them, but there was no guarantee that the military and the government weren’t already working together so if you made a mistake, you’d be doomed.

“We can’t simply sit and try to hack into their system, Wooyoung, while they have Jongho and several other people suffering with chips inside of them. I’ve seen their experimentations fail and lives lost. I cried myself to sleep everyday and the only reason I’m still sane is because I need to put an end to this as soon as possible-”

“Well, you’re not alone,” Wooyoung told you and you took a deep breath. “We’re here. We’re helping you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

“I do have one idea, but I’m not sure you will agree.”

“If it’s something stupid and you think we won’t agree? You’re probably right and I won’t hear a word about it-”

“About what?” Yunho came outside with his own can of beer. “Was gaming and going to sleep but I heard the chatter.”

“You really should touch the grass once in a while,” you teased. “You can’t spend all your free time in front of screens too.”

“Whatever,” he plopped down on a chair. “Continue, please. Don’t stop on my account.”

“Okay, listen,” you leaned forward, the orange hues of the fire illuminating your face as you spoke. “I need to go and get Jongho back- you both know I can’t simply sit and wait for our hacking attempts to be successful. If they could be hacked, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Right,” Yunho agreed.

“When they found Jongho and me, when we ran away, Jongho gave me a short message- two words. ‘Yunho’ and ‘Strictland’. Strictland must be the name of the town they’ve made home at. What do you know about Strictland?”

“Did he… did he tell you to find me and say Strictland?” Yunho frowned. “Are you sure?”

Wooyoung looked as lost as you and you told him you were sure. You watched Yunho’s expressions change from confusion to realisation. “Do you remember when we first found out about the Droid Project, I talked about how this couldn’t have been the first time that humans have tried to create droids?”

“Maybe?” You shrugged.

“I don’t remember, I don’t think so,” Wooyoung admitted.

“Well, the term ‘droid’ only originated recently. There have been other terms used to define the concept of a human machine- and since, at first, the only reason for such a creation would be to fight wars. So they were called super assassins, X-fighters, and a bunch of other stupid terms. Whenever I tried finding more about their history, I got blocked. I even got a few warnings. I thought it must be some confidential information- it would make sense if the general public doesn’t know that such attempts have been made. But… I did find something that suggested that they did succeed once.”

“They did?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. “Wasn’t this supposed to be the first time?”

“I wouldn’t know? They sure make me feel like I’m the one who came up with this. I know I’m not, but I didn’t think that far back into the past?”

“The current droids, you came up with that,” Yunho corrected. “But whatever version- or versions- existed before… there have been occurrences. One that began in Strictland a few decades ago but there’s no evidence. It is said that everything related to that project was burned, all the evidence erased. It was quite a disaster and they covered it up with a few bombs thrown to call it a ‘terrorist’ attack- the military got involved and there was a major clean-up or something. But the facts never matched, and those who dug enough know that the government has been hiding the real incident.”

“And how did Jongho know?”

“Maybe he heard things? He definitely did. And if he heard my name too… they might be coming after me next,” Yunho concluded.

“Well, that just means I have to proceed with my plan.”

“What plan exactly is that?”

You told them what you were thinking. There was a series of ‘no’ from Wooyoung, ‘absolutely not’ from Yunho, but you made them consider every other option and when the sun started to shine its first rays on the trees, you all agreed that this might be risky, yes, but this was probably the only way you could win.

Fight fire with fire.

—---------------------------------

“You must have finally gone insane.”

You lightly shrugged when you heard that- it was rich coming from Dr. Jin when he was the one who pushed you to this point.

“I mean… it’s been a while…” your finger circled the dramatic red button, itching to press it- Wooyoung’s idea. You told him it was stupid but when he insisted that nothing riles people up than seeing big red warnings, you let him craft this goodness.

“What do you want, y/n? Why are you here?”

“I thought you’d know,” you finally stood up, brushing your clothes. “You still have something I can’t go back without.”

“Oh, that stupid droid? You came back for that?”

“That is a human very close to me, which you must have known when you decided to turn him into a droid,” you glared at him. “Don’t test my limits, Dr. Jin. You know how short a temper I have.”

And you had proven that in the span of the last few hours. Your genius plan had been to walk to their office in Strictland, which was relatively easy because all the soldiers recognised you and whenever they tried to move from their places, you told them the purpose of the device in your hand. Not a bomb, but better, you told them. You had one of the soldiers drive you to the office and then you sat down on the ground, waiting for Dr. Jin to show up.

In the meantime, you had a messy confrontation with Mr. Han. You told him you had not expected him to cooperate with any of this but he insisted that he was still following orders to keep his family safe. Though you despised him for making a fool out of you, not even giving you a hint of what was happening, you could understand his reasons. Your reasons were the same after all.

“He’s my family, and I would have you bring him to me right this instant.”

“Or what?”

“Or else I press this,” you raised the remote in your hand. “And it sets off a chain reaction. A droid self-destructs– for real this time, no games,” you looked pointedly at Mr. Han. “and if there’s a droid within a 2 mile radius of that droid, it self-destructs, and so on.”

“All we need to do is snatch it from you,” Dr. Jin scoffed.

“Well, unluckily for you, I’m the droid that will be setting off that chain reaction.”

A chorus of gasps sounded and your seniors- the one who had once been your mentors- all gaped at you. Dumbfounded. Confused.

“You wouldn’t,” it was Dr. Seo that spoke. Your first mentor.

“I would, and you know that,” you extended your wrist showing a small opening where the chip was installed. “Do you remember this version of the droids, where you would still be more human than a machine? The one Dr. Jin was so quick to reject? Turns out it’s the better version- doesn’t require all the surgeries and whatnot.”

“That’s a bluff, isn’t it?” Dr. Jin scoffed. “You wouldn’t kill yourself over some droid.”

“Again, that droid is my family, and yes, I would kill myself if that means everyone here in Strictland dies and this cursed project comes to an end,” you glared at him. “To save humanity, a few lives sacrificed won’t be in vain- oh, and if you try to snatch this?” You waved the device in your hand. “This was just for the dramatics. It doesn’t work- I don’t need it to activate self-destruction.”

Dr. Jin’s nostrils flared in anger, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he tried to make a decision. “Any chance for negotiations? Because I won’t simply hand over Jongho to you- you couldn’t hack into him and deactivate his droid functions. We clearly have the upper hand.”

“You do,” you admitted. “And you can continue with whatever the fuck you’re doing in here, but I can do something for you and you can do something for me in return, right?”

“What do you suggest?” Dr. Seo spoke this time. “What can you give us?”

“What you clearly want. I know you haven’t found a way to solve that muscle memory problem yet.”

“But given more time, we could definitely do it,” Dr. Seo shifted on one leg, pushing his glasses up. “Why would we need you for that?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t do this without me- I’m the only programmer in Eden who can accomplish this,” your smirk was devilish. “You needed me when you began this project, and you clearly need me now. It’s a shame I didn’t cooperate, right? Maybe if you hadn’t used Jongho to rile me up, I would have actually solved the problem.”

“But you didn’t know what the problem was in the first place,” Dr. Seo said.

“I didn’t, but come on. I would have found out with any droid had I observed it as closely as I did Jongho. Now… I code to make the link between muscle memory and the subconscious dormant, and you uninstall the chip in Jongho and let me leave in peace. Do we have a deal?”

“What’s the guarantee you won’t try anything once you have Jongho?”

“None,” you admitted. “But if you trust me, I’ll trust you. For old time’s sake? And you know where my family lives anyway- I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.”

Dr. Jin and Dr. Seo looked at each other, whispering. Mr. Han looked like he wished he was beside you at that moment fighting with you, not fighting against you. You gulped down the anxiety bubbling in your throat- you had bluffed a whole lot just now but you needed them to buy it. Yes, you could self-destruct but there was no way you would simply just go back.

“Alright, I think we can work with that,” Dr. Seo came closer, extending his hand. “For old time’s sake.”

“You should apologise for playing dirty,” you shook his hand but he only scoffed in response.

“You’ll have to follow some rules here. Protocol,” Dr. Seo explained and you cooperated this time, letting them scan your body for potential threats and then asking for access to your code. You let them see it- Dr. Seo had made this version with you so when he seemed satisfied save for the self-destruct file that you didn’t allow him to access, he decided to let it be for the moment.

“I have a condition too,” you told him. “I’ll work on uninstalling Jongho’s chip first. Once he’s human, I’ll play my part.”

“Okay- I’ll have a programmer work with you.”

Thus initiated the second part of your plan. You had successfully gained access inside their building and so far, their actions had been very predictable. Wooyoung was right about them asking to read your code too. The self-destruct wasn’t a bluff but you had hidden the real code elsewhere because you just knew Dr. Seo would attempt to replicate it if he got one look at it. You were pretty sure he had gone to note down what little he saw.

What he missed, though, while worrying about the new code was that you did not have one but two chips, side by side, inside your wrist. The other, a tiny thing, attached to the main chip. You finally pressed on your wrist to turn it on.

Surveillance through your eyes. The simplest, most basic droid function, installed in each droid as well as you. But you were reporting back to your server- to Yunho and Wooyoung, who were right at the outskirts of the town, who must have detected your signal by now and would be transmitting the live coverage to the Panel. The Panel, where different world leaders, scientists, human rights workers and other brilliant people were present, the group bigger than ever, waiting to see what you would show them.

And the first sight they saw- oh goodness. Rows and rows of humans strapped on to the stretchers lit by a light so bright that they looked blue. One of them was being brought to you- you were pretty sure your whimper was heard by everyone in the Panel.

Jongho did not look good. The signs of his struggle were quite visible on his bare upper body- a big, ugly bruise on the left side of his stomach, a long slash running down his right arm, a twin bruise like yours on his temple. You were never going to forgive these people.

With newfound fierce determination, you nodded to the person you were to work with- a woman who looked to be in her late thirties with her stern face and slicked back hair. Without saying a word, Jongho was plugged to the screen and his code files secured with multiple passwords were accessed. Then the two of you started working side by side to end every running code in his chip. It must have taken only an hour and then you were done.

“We’ll take him to surgery. You can access whatever you need here while we take the chip out of him.”

“No thanks, I’ll take whatever laptop you have and work from there. He needs to be in front of my eyes.”

“I’ll get back to you,” she said and moved to a corner to convey your message. After getting confirmation, she allowed you to follow her to the medical section of the office. The lights started to dim the further you walked down the hallway, almost to the extent that you thought they were going to surprise you with something unexpected, but a turn to the right and you were suddenly in a familiar setting of a hospital. You were glad it looked normal- all the neon lights used in the offices had rooted some trauma in you for sure.

Unsurprisingly, the waiting room was equipped with all sorts of necessities you would need. The woman simply turned on the systems and plugged in the USBs before instructing you to wait for Dr. Seo. You rolled your eyes- nothing you could do about that, so you resorted to monitoring Jongho, trying to quell the seed of hope in your heart.

Jongho would be okay. You would make sure of that.

The process of installing the chips in humans was something you had seen a lot- however, uninstalling the chip was rare. You tried not to recall the time when you first tried to save a person- it had backfired and induced a seizure. While you had worked with a lot of programmers to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen again, the people here kept insisting they didn’t need you to work on this because they thought there wouldn’t be a time when they would have to turn droids back into humans. But you were grateful that you and your team had been stubborn enough to at least make it a little better.

Now it was up to Jongho and his willpower to make it out of there with full health. You weren’t sure what you would do if something happened to him.

While monitoring Jongho, you started working on the one problem that had doomed your life- the link between subconscious and muscle memory. You had Dr. Seo working with you from his office- it was no surprise that he was monitoring your progress and making contributions considering he was one of the brains behind this project and had a lot of medical knowledge to contribute from the years he worked as a neurosurgeon before he started learning programming.

But since he was watching, that meant you had to do this properly- and you would. You understood that coming here to save Jongho meant you would have to share the knowledge that could change the power dynamics of this world. You could only pray that the Panel would make sure that these people would never get to put your theory into practice, because you couldn’t imagine a world where humans would be programmed to lose the very essence that made them human to fight for people that could only be called monsters. And you prayed your wildcard- getting the military involved- would work.

It had to be the longest three hours of your life. By the time Jongho was out of surgery, his vitals normal, you were almost done but your hands were trembling uncontrollably, your sniffs were getting louder as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to leave your body, because-

You did it. Jongho was okay, Jongho was okay.

And you may have just doomed all of humanity with your code. You were pretty sure Dr. Seo might be testing your code on some unfortunate human right now. You should have gone with him- but you couldn’t leave Jongho. He needed to be in front of your eyes. You wished you had some means of contacting Yunho and Wooyoung right now- all they needed to do was tell you that you did well and you would be fine. But you didn’t have the means to hear their reassurance so you had to settle for the hope that the Panel was proceeding with the final part of the plan.

A military raid. Eden’s military against the New Government’s soldiers. Eden had never been so divided.

A notification popped up on your laptop and Dr. Seo confirmed the validity of the code so far and asked you to wrap it up. You took a deep breath.

The last step. The final step you had to take in order to destroy the foundations of the Eden Droid Project, once and for all.

You told him to give you a minute- you needed to check if Jongho was okay. With that excuse, you got up and went inside the ward to check on your unconscious friend. The surgery wasn’t anything big, no. It was just like removing a piece of shrapnel from your body, the chip relying on signals to send to the neurons. You just had to make sure that Jongho’s body hadn’t adapted to the chip’s presence so much that it couldn’t function without it anymore.

You wiped your face with your sleeves before clutching Jongho’s hand- you needed his strength, every bit of it. With your other hand, you combed his hair so it wouldn’t fall on his eyes. Jongho stirred in his sleep and you whispered his name. He subconsciously squeezed your hand before his eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t surprised- seeing you wake him up was nothing new, though it had been quite a while. He looked around to get his bearings-

“Oh, goodness, what are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too,” you laughed, wiping your eyes again. “How are you feeling? Can you move? Is your vision okay?”

“Never been better,” Jongho groaned as he sat up, exhaling. “I feel tired. That’s new.”

“That means you’re human,” you smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re no longer a droid, Jongho,” you told him, for once pleased with your work. “You’re okay now.”

“But where are we?”

“Still there,” you let go of his hand to squeeze his shoulder, letting it trail down his bicep which was when you started tapping. “You’ll go home soon, I promise.”

“And you?” He asked, “Won’t you come too?”

“I’ll be right behind,” you kissed his forehead, having finished tapping your message on his skin. Jongho squeezed your hand in warning but you shook your head. “I have to wrap things up here, but I promise I’ll be home soon.”

“We go together, or we don’t go at all.”

“Jongho-”

“I won’t leave you behind, not this time,” he shook his head fiercely. “I know you’re strong. But we’ve always worked better together, haven’t we?”

“You’re still recovering though.”

Jongho called your name in warning and you caved in. You told him to make sure to follow your instructions and you made a request to Dr. Seo that you wanted to be there to witness the end of this. Dr. Seo sent an escort who accompanied the two of you to a lab where he was indeed working on an unfortunate young man just like you had suspected. Dr. Seo cast a wary look at Jongho before turning to you.

“You’ve worked brilliantly so far, Miss Jeon. Shall we begin?”

You nodded and asked Jongho to take a seat. You first went to check the man’s vitals, taking note of his label - CS, 005. “He’s one of the first few, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Dr. Seo confirmed, setting up your station. “A volunteer, though he didn’t quite know what he was getting into at that time.”

“Right,” you muttered, swallowing the distaste his words brought. “I’ll start now.”

Feeling sorry for the man who was about to lose the last shreds of humanity in him, perhaps forever, you started typing the codes, Dr. Seo watching from his screen across you. There were just a few lines of command left to type and you cast a quick glance at Jongho who passed a subtle nod.

He was ready. And so were you.

You had tapped a message to Jongho- Cookie’s play. A joke that ran in both your families of how Cookie would pretend to be sick whenever she wanted to have her way or skip school. And he was going to do just that.

Jongho groaned loudly in pain, clutching his head, causing Dr. Seo to stop what he was doing and frown at him in confusion while you asked Jongho if everything was okay, your fingers typing a series of codes that were going to be your salvation now. Jongho fell on his knees and you, feigning panic, got up along with Dr. Seo who was genuinely worried for Jongho’s wellbeing since you had made sure that you weren’t going to give them anything if he wouldn’t make it out alive. You started walking across the room to where Jongho was, the droid CS on your way and you paused just a fraction of a second to slip your chip- the small chip they had missed during inspection- in the port on his back from where he was plugged to the system.

You rushed to Jongho and asked him if he was okay- he continued to act like his head was going to burst open with pain and just when Dr. Seo took out his phone to call someone, Jongho pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and placing a hand over his mouth. You didn’t wait to see who would win as they started clawing at each other- you ran back to your station to your laptop, glancing once at Dr. Seo’s panicked face before pressing enter and enabling the ‘run’ function.

The guards outside must have heard some commotion and one of them peeked in to check but it was too late- thanks to Dr. Seo being impatient and sceptical, testing your code after every few minutes, it only took a handful of seconds for the code to stop running itself which was when the droid opened its eyes. Dr. Seo finally managed to land a punch on Jongho and get him to let go of him. He rushed towards you but before he could stop the guards, one of them yelled ‘freeze!’ and you raised your hands-

Unplugging the droid in the process.

“What have you done-” Dr. Seo reached for his screen to read the code, consumed by confusion and panic as he read the last lines which must be making no sense to him now-

Because the original code was also in that mini chip you had sneaked in. If this went well, you would owe Yunho your life- and Jongho’s.

“CS, 005, what’s your status?” You whispered just so the droid could hear.

“Okay,” he confirmed.

“Then get up and protect us from the threat.”

You thought you saw the slightest hint of a smirk on the droid’s face and before you could ponder over it, he rose to full glory, straightening and cracking his neck before asking you to take cover.

What you saw next was something you were sure you would never forget. There was no way this person wasn’t a skilled fighter before he became a droid because he dodged each bullet with expertise and kicked the gun out of the guard’s hand, catching it mid-air and pointing it at Dr. Seo, creeping towards him and holding him at gunpoint.

“Down on your knees, now,” he commanded and the guard obeyed instantly, backup arriving too late. Nothing they could do now- the Head Coder of this project could lose his life if someone made a wrong move.

“How,” Dr. Seo muttered when he spotted you from the corner of his eye. “I saw the code- there was nothing.”

“It’s just like what you did with Jongho and the other droids,” you finally let out the laugh you had been holding. “I am the master now, and my wish is his command. Isn’t that right, CS?”

He nodded in response and Jongho whistled, thoroughly impressed by you. You took out Dr. Seo’s phone from his pocket, unlocked it and called Dr. Jin.

“Is it done?”

“Uh, you might want to come here, Dr. Jin,” you said innocently. “We may have an emergency.”

You hung up before he could respond and Mr. Han came bursting into the room, freezing when he saw just what was going on.

“Uh, I was going to inform you that there’s been a military raid but it looks like it was planned…”

“Maybe,” you shrugged but you couldn’t keep in the sigh of relief- all hope was not lost after all. The military was on with you in this one- looks like the Panel had played their part well.

Mr. Han, to your surprise, was smiling in satisfaction. “Is it going to be over soon?”

“For you lot, yes,” you narrowed your eyes. “You don’t look too mad about it.”

“I’m not,” he smiled and you tried to figure out just what he was thinking but Dr. Jin appeared, fuming. The old man looked like he was going to have a stroke any second.

“Stand. Down.” He commanded. “Or you’ll face the worst consequences, Miss Jeon.”

“Like what?” You cocked your head. “I could have this droid blow your favourite coder’s brains out, right here. I don’t think it can get worse than that-”

Dr. Jin’s phone rang and when he frowned at his screen, you finally let the little ray of hope you had been harbouring in your heart consume you. Dr. Jin picked up the call and you watched all the blood drain from his face.

“Ah… It can get worse,” you finally grinned, looking at Jongho who appeared a little lost but squeezed your hand in assurance anyway. “CS, you will continue to hold Dr. Seo as leverage until I give you the signal. Dr. Jin… I think it’s time you sit down and accept your defeat.”

Dr. Jin scoffed and attempted to leave the room but you shared one look with the droid and he knew what to do- with impeccable aim, he fired the gun in his direction, hitting right in the middle of his calf. His painful yell echoed throughout the vicinity and some of the guards pointed the gun in your direction instinctively while some rushed to help the man. You ignored Dr. Seo’s series of curses aimed at you amidst the chaos. Soon, a man in Eden’s staple blue military uniform walked in followed by a group of soldiers, ordering them to start arresting everyone in the building- and to your surprise, he nodded at you. CS finally let go of Dr. Seo only for him to be handcuffed and escorted outside.

“Thank you for coming,” you said as a greeting to Eden’s Military Commander- everyone in the room must have recognised him seeing how they were so willingly cooperating now. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

“It took me quite some convincing to come, but seeing what’s going on here,” the tall man looked around, “I think it was necessary. If you could be so kind as to guide me through the appropriate measures to be taken regarding the droids?”

“Yes- can you make sure Mr. Choi is escorted safely outside first? He might require some medical attention-”

“Y/n-”

“It’s okay, Jongho,” you assured with a smile. “It’s going to take me a while here, but I’ll be with Yunho and Wooyoung. I’ll be okay.”

Jongho looked at the Commander for permission and he nodded, letting him take you to a side for a little privacy. “I’m anxious, y/n. I don’t want to leave you here-”

“I’m not alone, trust me,” you took both his hands in yours. “I need you to get out of here and get to Cookie, okay? She’s going to be worried sick- she knows everything now.”

“Really?” Jongho shook his head. “What about your parents? My parents- are they okay?”

“They’re all fine,” you told him. “They had a memory blocker but Yunho was going to take care of that before he came here. Everything will be normal when you go back.”

“Not normal. Not if you’re not there,” he said and you laughed at that.

“Jongho, I’m so thankful to you for a number of things. I’ll tell you all about it once we’re back, okay?” You promised. “But I need to take care of all the droids first. You know they can’t keep on living like this anymore. You know that better than anyone.”

Jongho nodded reluctantly and you continued. “You saved me today, Jongho. I’ll thank you for that now. And you need to be safe, at home with our families, so I can work peacefully here, okay? We’ll be in contact- here,” you went to grab a paper and pen to scribble your contact number. “You can call me whenever.”

“Alright,” he finally gave in, bringing you in for a hug and you gladly soaked in every bit of it. You needed that for what was next.

—--------------------------

“You’re burning the toasts, Wooyoung.”

“They need to be just the right amount of brown for this dish to come together,” Wooyoung tsk-ed at your ignorance and you scoffed, looking for someone to back you but apparently everyone’s new favourite sport was to gang up on you now.

“We get that you’ve not been in the kitchen for a while,” Jongho began. “But how did you survive living alone in Strictland?”

“Let me guess. Instant noodles and microwave food,” Cookie shook her head in disappointment when you pursed your lips guiltily. “Mom’s gonna have a stroke if she hears.”

“Shut up,” you muttered though your heart ached at the mention of your mother- two years of not knowing where her daughter was had really aged her. “And you’re laughing, Yunho. As if you’re one to say.”

“Still better than you,” he stuck out his tongue at you and before you could retort, you heard the door open.

“I’ve set everything, what’s taking so long?” San said, going to check on Wooyoung. “Now that looks good.”

“See?” Wooyoung turned to look at you. “Man’s got taste.”

“I think I was better off coding in my room, what say you, Cookie?” You turned to leave but Yunho grabbed your arm and swung you back to your spot, laughing along with Jongho. You noticed Cookie was too busy staring at San who was helping Wooyoung plate the last of the dishes now. You met Jongho’s eyes and you shook your heads- her crush on San was way too obvious. Yunho shook his head, amused, and you all decided to let her have her moment.

It had been about 3 months since the raid in Strictland and since then, you were working on wiping clean any signs of the Droid Project in the land. You, Yunho and Wooyoung had worked day and night for a whole month to turn the hundreds of droids back to normal and then it was the military’s job to get them back to where they belonged. Everyone had unanimously agreed that since you guys were the brains behind this, it was your decision if you wanted to keep the data or delete everything permanently. One look at Yunho and it was decided- you were going to burn everything related to the project. It had almost caused the world to lose its humanity. There should be no signs of it anymore.

Everyone who was a part of the Eden Droid Project was tried in court and imprisoned with heavy sentences of treason, especially those who had collaborated with people from other nations and risked their homeland’s security. These included everyone who willingly cooperated- testimonies were heard, yes, but they didn’t prove to be much valuable. All the military needed was a background check of their activities which attested to their willingness- people like you who had left the project in its early stages and suddenly found themselves back were let go of with non-disclosure agreements. Some were put on probation but it turned out good.

What surprised you was when you were called as a witness for Mr. Han’s testimony. He revealed that he had purposely not blocked your memories of Jongho so you would quickly realise what was going on and do something about this project. Since he had always been a part of this project, it was hard to believe that he had contributed to the downfall of this project but you had to agree- if it weren’t for him, things would have been much, much different. He got the lightest sentence among those who willingly participated in this project and he was grateful that you came on his behalf. You figured you couldn’t be mad at him for too long- he probably did what he did for his family too.

The Panel was sure to not let a whisper of this project out- everything was hushed and treaties were signed. You met with a few of the members who commended your efforts but you didn’t take any credit. You did what you had to. You only asked for one favour- to let you and your friends be. You were never going to play with the idea of droids again- this was enough. You were simply going to work on the last droid- CS- from ‘the headquarters’ which was Yunho and Wooyoung’s home. The Panel agreed- they knew better than to get on your wrong side. If the world came to hear about what happened in Strictland, the establishments would collapse.

As for San, your new friend… he was CS- the droid. The person you felt the most sorry for. The person you had apologised to at least a hundred times in a span of the past few months because it took you the longest to get his droid functions to hibernate, and once he became somewhat human?

You recalled the look in his eyes that absolutely shattered you- the look of guilt and horror. It was very messy at first, countless arguments as you tried to convince him that you were not a monster (but weren’t you? You created the droids, after all) and that you were so sorry for using him as a weapon and as a shield, and you were sorry for what he had to go through all this time. Sometimes, it looked like you two were getting along but then one night, you had your worst argument- screaming and yelling, tears and anger. Yunho and Wooyoung had been out and they chose the worst (arguable) timing to come back home- with Cookie and Jongho.

And how Cookie defended you. When she heard the yells, she stormed inside and hugged you and you sobbed into her chest while she sent daggers in the stranger’s direction. And then what she said afterwards was how you got here- to being a group of tightly knit friends.

“My sister has been used, manipulated, held hostage in a simulation and made to code you droids with the threat of her family hanging on her head. She went back to sacrifice herself and everyone including you if that meant the world could be a safer place for the rest of us, so don’t you dare call her a monster. If it weren’t for her, you would have been their first killing machine, do you understand? You should be thanking her for trying to save you- she’s still a fucking droid and refuses to feel tired or sleep until you can!”

“Cookie!” You scolded. “Language!”

“I’m almost 18 now, I’m not a kid anymore,” she glared at you and you felt that stab, having missed two of the most important years of her life. She went back to glaring at San who looked… starstruck? “She didn’t see her family and her boyfriend in 2 years because she was afraid she’d hurt us. Don’t you call her a monster ever again.”

Now? Now you smiled proudly whenever you thought of that night. After Cookie’s outburst, everyone was too surprised to say anything and it was Wooyoung who tried to cut the tension in the air by asking Cookie to take you to his room. Jongho stood gaping at the little kid he had practically raised, muttering, “I did not raise her like this but damn.” And he was right. The boys had a good laugh and San slept over it and realised he may have been acting like an idiot.

And that idiot was clearly very curious about Cookie, you realised when he opened his birthday present for her to reveal a lilac cardigan- Cookie had very casually pointed at someone’s cardigan in the street calling it cute. You did not expect San to be so observant.

“Oh, this is lovely,” Cookie ran a hand over the cardigan’s soft fabric. “The colour- I love it, San.”

“Stop shooting daggers at San,” Jongho, who was sitting next to you, whispered, poking your stomach and you swatted his hand away.

“I can’t help it,” you whispered back, eyes still locked in San’s direction. “He’s getting way too chummy with her lately. I don’t approve.”

“You literally told San you love him like, two days ago,” Jongho pointed out and you glared at him.

“That’s because he got me my favourite brownie when I had been working all night long,” you said as if that warranted your admission of love for him. “As a polite servant should. His master is losing sleep trying to get his droidy senses back to human.”

“This droid still possesses his super hearing,” San whispered just for you to hear- you possessed that too. “So maybe shut up.”

“Stop looking at Cookie like that and I’ll shut up,” you countered and Jongho laughed out loud, having put two and two together from what he heard you whisper to San. “Don’t make me activate the master-servant dynamics back.”

“Oh, stop that,” Cookie glared at the two of you and you both immediately pretended to be normal, smiling at her. “Please get along for once. It’s my birthday. Where’s your gift, sis?”

“Uhh,” you looked around, digging in your pocket, “Here.”

A finger-heart. Cookie groaned loudly and everyone laughed as you ran for your life when she got up from her chair. “It’s on the way!” You yelled. “I forgot to order it on time!”

“It better be good or else I’ll have San droid-handle you!”

You stopped running, coincidentally finding yourself behind San’s chair. “You wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, right?”

“Your wish is not my command but her wish,” San pointed at Cookie before looking at you with that smirk you wished to wipe off his face, “very well might be.”

“Oh, I’m going back to code,” you started and San laughed, grabbing your hand before you could go inside and apologising like a true gentleman (he was actually a gentleman, you found). Wooyoung complained that the food was going to get cold if you all kept joking around and you finally gave in, settling between San and Jongho and digging into the feast.

It was heartwarming to have all of them together like this, after everything that you went through. You had never felt more content in your life, and it showed, even though you hadn’t reached the finish line yet. You still had to turn San and yourself back to normal- you had been far too busy erasing all evidence of the Droid Project to worry about yourself. As for San, it was a sensitive line to tread on. You did not want to hasten it and he understood- he was just glad that his droid functions could be controlled at his will. He was content too, having reunited with his family and found another here.

Jongho noticed you smiling to yourself as you walked back home from the convenience store- you had gone to get more drinks but you also volunteered because you wanted to take Jongho along with you. You barely had alone time with him ever since you came back so you made most of the stolen moments.

“What’s going on in your head?” Jongho teased, elbowing you lightly.

“Nothing. I’m just happy,” you grinned. The simple truth- you were happy. “Wanna take a little break?” You pointed at the empty park with swings and Jongho led you inside, the two of you settling on the swings.

“How are your parents?” You asked Jongho. “Are they still confused about your disappearance?”

“They are, I mean… I told them I went to find you but you’re not back home yet. They wonder why sometimes.”

“When did you guys move?” You asked. “It’s a shame that we won’t be neighbours anymore.”

“I know,” Jongho sighed. “My grandmother was sick two years ago- they wanted to move closer so they could take better care of her. We still own that house so we haven’t ‘fully’ moved away’.”

“Oh, does that mean you can come by sometimes?” You asked but then you remembered. “You have college, though.”

“I could come stay there on the weekends if that means we can spend some time together,” he shrugged and you poked his thigh.

“Just like when your parents went on a trip and I would sneak out in the middle of the night so we could have sleepovers?”

“Good old times,” Jongho laughed. Now that you were getting a good look at him, you noticed how much he had changed in the years you had been gone. He was much broader now, the muscles peeking through his half-sleeve shirt more defined, and-

“You’re staring.”

“You got a haircut,” you said. “I like your hair a bit longer, I think.”

“I’m going to shave my head,” Jongho declared and you laughed loudly. Just like the old times. “This reminds me of the last time we were at a park. On the swings, just like this.”

While you had thanked Jongho for a lot of things ever since you came back- for taking care of Cookie while you were gone, for believing in you and not going out and beyond trying to find you, for making sure your parents knew you were safe wherever you were and this was something you needed to do, for not giving up when he got taken and turned into a droid, and for keeping you safe there… you were still struggling with words needed for an apology. Jongho told you time and time again that he didn’t need your apology, but that didn’t mean you felt less sorry.

“Do you consider it a bad memory?” You asked and Jongho shook his head.

“Never. I was a bit out of it when I learned that you were gone, but one night I came back to the park and recalled our conversation. I told you that you could trust me and you told me that you did. You assured me that you loved me and you knew that you weren’t alone-”

“Jongho-”

“Let me finish,” he smiled gently at you. “If you hadn’t told me all of that… I don’t know what I would have done. I was grateful that you had told me that. It meant that whatever you did was necessary.”

“God, how did I get so lucky?” You looked up at the sky, laughing to keep the sting in your eyes from getting worse. “I think I’ve used maximum luck. It can’t get any better than this.”

“Please,” Jongho smacked your arm, his ears going red and you giggled. Even after all these years, simple confessions like these made him fluster and it was the cutest thing. “I’m just telling you this so you can stop looking at me like you owe me a big fat apology. Not a good look at you, y/n. I like it better when you act like you’re the boss and can do whatever you want.”

“But I am sorry,” you told him and he looked pointedly at you but decided to accept it. Perhaps that would take the weight off your shoulders. “I should have told you more. That’s the only regret I had.”

“Oh, we’re fine anyway, aren’t we?” Jongho said. “We’re all back. Our gang has grown, Cookie is finally sharing drinks with you, we got a new friend-”

“Choi San,” you muttered. “I don’t know how you two get along so well. How all of you do. I think we’re still moments away from going full warrior-mode droid on each other.”

“Oh, that’s because you don’t like how chummy he and Cookie are,” Jongho laughed heartily. “Don’t let her find out. She’s gonna start rebelling.”

“Like, I know they can do whatever they want, I’m not against it at all. I’m probably wary because, well, I’m her sister. Of course I’m going to be. It’s just that… he looks at her the way you look at me. It’s unsettling.”

Jongho raised a brow. “Oh? And how do I look at you?”

“With those big eyes,” you grinned, and when his gaze got softer, you smacked his arm. “Stop!”

“Why?” Jongho pulled you closer, making you rock dangerously on the swing but he was quick to cage your legs between his so you wouldn’t fall over. “How do I look at you? Like I’m in love? Like you’re my everything?”

“You need a drink,” you told him, about to bend to pull one out of the grocery bag but Jongho grabbed your arm instead, making you look at him. “Stop, you’re making me shy!”

Jongho must have been in a dire need of drink because he wasn’t all for such romantic moments- but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic. When he was in the mood, you often found it overwhelming simply because you couldn’t believe he could love you so much. He intertwined his hands with yours, caressing the scar on your wrist below which the chip was embedded. When he looked at you, your gaze was already stuck on his parted lips and he didn’t waste time drawing you in and meeting your lips in a heartfelt kiss. You let your arms travel around his neck mostly for support because you were still worried you would fall off the swing but Jongho had you secure, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck as he deepened the kiss.

It was perfect. It was quiet with only the sound of cicadas carried by the cool breeze, the faint sound of traffic almost dismissable. It was nostalgic and contained longing from all the time you spent apart, the time you lost and wished you could get back. But what made your heart content was that it was still the same. He was still the same, just like you had left him. He still kissed you like he couldn’t have been elsewhere. He still held you like he did the first time- with caution and care, making sure you felt safe. As you continued to kiss, he let go of that caution and let himself get comfortable too, the kiss turning passionate. It was only when you heard the sound of passersby- children- that you broke apart with a little laugh.

“Can we ditch going back to give them the drinks and continue?” You asked and Jongho laughed, kissing you for a few moments more before he let go with a sigh.

“You owe me two years worth of kisses,” Jongho said, getting up and helping you get up next. “You better make up for it.”

“Really?” You took him by surprise as you pulled him for another short kiss. “That’s one less for you now.”

“I’ll take another then,” Jongho kissed you back and when he drew apart, you two burst into a fit of giggles. “Let’s go back.”

The short walk back to the headquarters cut a few more kisses from what you owed him and when you set the drinks on the table, you found everyone looking pointedly at the two of you. “What?”

“What took you so long?” Yunho shook his head, opening the drinks and then pausing mid-air. “Actually… don’t answer that.”

“Oh?” San unintentionally quipped in, looking confused for a moment before he looked around and connected the dots. “Oh.”

“Ew,” Cookie said and everyone burst into laughter, making Jongho hide his face in a corner and you threw a packet of chips at Wooyoung who was laughing the loudest, who proved you wrong instantly by laughing even louder. You couldn’t help but join despite everyone ganging up to tease the two of you. You subconsciously touched your wrist, remembering that you were part droid right now but San caught that, sharing the sentiment-

That even though you were part droid, you had never felt more human. You had never felt more emotional, and perhaps, these moments that became a part of your subconscious had ultimately saved all of you. You made a silent prayer wishing everyone’s subconscious would be filled with such wholesome and happy moments. As long as you had this, you would be okay.

Elsewhere, at the outskirts of Strictland, a man dressed in all-black with a cap was standing anxiously waiting for someone. As soon as he saw a car approach, he clutched his briefcase tighter, worried his attempt at a negotiation would go wrong. The car halted a few feet away and a man in a suit accompanied by another of a much bigger stature drew closer.

“What have you got?”

“A few documents and one chip that I managed to hide before they found me,” the man adjusted his cap. “I have a trial scheduled this week so I thought I’d get this done.”

“And everything is here, in this briefcase?” the man in the suit asked and got a nod. He signalled . “Thank you. Your job here is done.”

Before the man could ask what was next, the one standing in the shadows pulled out a gun and shot that man in the forehead before he could blink. The man in the suit wiped his suit mockingly.

“Get rid of him, and make it quick. We’ve got work to do.”

#FINALLY.#jongho x reader #jongho angst #jongho fluff #choi jongho #choi jongho x reader #jongho #choi jongho fluff #choi jongho angst #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez ff #ateez fanfic

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angelltheninth · 9 months

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Miguel Makes You Sit on His Lap

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, power play, kissing, work meetings, teasing, playful biting, size difference, grinding, scratches, gentle dom!Miguel

A/N: I will sit in his lap whenever he wants, he just needs to hold me and I'll be happy.

Miguel loves being physically close to you at all times, including when you're at work

It's a little more difficult to get quality time in when he has to go in and out of meetings and trying to clean up random messes all the time but its better then him not seeing you for days on end

"We have some time before the meeting starts, so why don't you come here." He offers you a toothy grin as he pats his thigh. You've sat there before of course but doing so in his office always made you a little shy. Miguel didn't have that shame though, never, "Didn't you hear me? I said come here." The sharper order made you snap at attention, crossing the room to him

Since you were so difficult he decided to do this another way, as soon as you were in his arms reach he grabbed your hips and pulled you forward

You stumbled a little, balancing yourself on his shoulders, feeling them move under your small fingers as you spread your legs as far as your pencil skirt would allow and straddled him

Miguel's hands moved from your hips to your thighs, claws barely scratching over the skin there, "That's better. When I tell you to do something you do it. We might be husband and wife at home but here I'm your boss, you do as I say."

No, it was better when you didn't do as he said, it was better when you pushed against his grip, playfully trying to get away

"Brat." As you moved further away his eyes fell on your breasts, one button a little too low, "What's that huh? You're being very naughty girl today. Luckily," He grinned as he grabbed handfuls of your ass, the smack echoing around you, mixing in with your moan, "I know how to handle women like you." His lips pushed against yours, firm, wanting and passionate as you felt his hands run under your shirt, "There are still scratches here from last time. Should I add to them, darling?"

Slowly you circled your hips into his, whispering how you shouldn't do this here, how the meeting is about to start, how you could get in trouble for this

There was no one to get in trouble with, he was the boss, but the game of cat and mouse was always fun to play

"Damn right you're in trouble. Testing my patience all day. Asking me to get you something from the high shelf only to push against me with that perfect little ass, you're lucky this is all the punishment you're getting." His hand pulled your suit jacket and shirt down your bicep, his fangs sucking bruises onto your skin, the danger of his paralyzing venom looming over you, "I could render you helpless with just one bite, you'd be at my mercy, mine to do whatever I want with you." By now you were a whimpery mess, your resolve gone, your hips having a mind of their own as you chased your release, "And... stop." The command made you bite back a cry, a plea, so you called him a bastard instead

He acted like nothing was wrong, he kissed you, a kiss way too gentle for how hot and heavy things got, and the next thing you knew he pushed you off him, "I have a meeting to get to. Don't touch yourself until I get back. If you I'll know, there are cameras in here."

It hit you then that this was his punishment, to make you wait

Sometimes you wondered if Miguel really was the good guy here

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breadbrioche · 3 months

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fit for a princess

luke castellan x reader

➳summary: a quick fluffy thing because admin eagerly wishes summer can come sooner and is purposely ignoring the ending of the pjo series :D

➳warnings: not proof read, written during multiple fits of delusion, established relationship

➳word count: 1.1k

➳a/n: IM BACK!! Sorry to any who were expecting a TUC fic but the pjo has been my latest obsession so I had to write it

At Camp Half-Blood, the weather is always perfect but, somehow, its even better than most days. The sun is shining at its brightest yet the cool breeze blowing made it so that it wasn’t uncomfortably hot. As one of many campers taking advantage of the great weather, Luke leans his back against a tree with his eyes closed and enjoying the warmth and listening to the calm sounds of the nature around him.

He winces when a suddenly shadow obstructs the light and peaks his eyes open slightly to see what caused it. Though through blurry eyes as he blinks to adjust to the brightness, he spots your figure looming over him and a smile instantly forms on Luke’s face.

“Can I help you?” He drawls out teasingly. You pout playfully before seating yourself next to him, fingers easily tangling with his like routine.

“You should be thankful I’m even here! Seriously, it took forever to track you down.”

“It’s not like this place is a particularly hard place to find.” Luke argues back but you roll your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah but I’d never thought you’d be here of all places” You point out as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What, can’t a guy just enjoy some peace and quiet?”

At that, you bark out a laugh, not believing him. “Not if you’re called Luke Castellan.” You chastise. “You’re always training as if you aren’t already the best swordsman in the camp”

“Did you come here to nag at me or do you have an actual reason?”

“Oh right!” You reach into your bag and place something atop Luke’s hair faster than he could see what it was. Immediately raising his hands to his head, he gingerly felt around blindly to see what it was. His fingertips brushes against something soft yet so thin he could tell it was delicate but also a more rough and rigid material.

As he carefully removes the item of his head to inspect it, Luke amusedly huffs upon realising what it was.

“You made me a flower crown?” He asks as he admires your craftsmanship - various summer flowers were woven together intricately, intertwining to create a colourful circlet. Leaves were bent precisely to frame each flower, some of which Luke could recognise being sunflowers and marigolds.

“I saw some Demeter kids making them and I wanted to try too.” You explained. “Do you like it? I know it’s not perfect but I think I did a pretty good job with it!”

“I love it.” He confirmed and using his free arm to pull you in for a hug to show his gratitude. “It’s almost as pretty as the person who made it.”

Groaning at his cheesy line, you lightly shoved him off you before taking the crown back into your hands to nestle it on top of his dark curls once again.

“Well I think you look way prettier than I ever could; it really suits you, y’know” you tease with a sly grin. “You’re giving serious fairy princess vibes”

“Are you being for real?” He sighed, looking away embarrassed but making no move to remove the flower crown. You giggled at his actions, cooing as you poked his reddening cheeks. Luke catches your offending wrist before using it to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you and nestling his face into your neck.

“I thought I was supposed to be a hero” he complains against your skin.

As you wrap your arms around his neck, you huff endearingly, feeling how warm his face is.

“Ayy now don’t sell yourself short; you can still be a hero while being a fairy princess. I’m sure there’s a myth about that.”

“I don’t think there is, love” Luke retorts which makes you scrunch your face disappointedly. Though, you don’t dwell on it for long as you gently grab his face and remove it from the crook of your neck. Luke’s face morphs into a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and dark eyes assessing you to find the meaning behind your antics, but you paid him no mind as you grinned happily.

You don’t understand how the boy before you doesn’t know how beautiful he is - and hell, you’d even say that Luke is way more attractive than any of the Aphrodite boys - especially in this current moment with how the sun made his eyes twinkle and his ruddy skin look like it was glowing.

But unfortunately, your thoughts are interrupted with the way Luke drums his fingers at your side, an unspoken request for an explanation. Stubbornly, you deny him the satisfaction in favour of admiring him more.

However, his drumming becomes more insistent then turns into pokes and before you know it, he’s attacking you relentlessly with tickles. This forces you to release your hold on Luke’s face to wrestle his hands off you. You shriek when he resists your attempts and puts his weight forward which pushes your back to the ground.

“Stop-!! Let go!!” You demand between fits of laughter while you writhe on the grass from the way your stomach cramps, you kick your feet and claw at his hands but Luke is, as always, relentless, finding how the whole situation has turned incredibly amusing.

“What…the fuck was that- “ you pant out when Luke eventually stops tickling you. As you heave, you glare up at Luke - the damn flower crown still perched on his head even after all that - who has a shit eating grin on his face.

“Maybe you aren’t a fairy princess hero after all.” You say accusingly. Luke raises an eyebrow inquisitively before rolling onto the ground next to you, his shoulders bumping into yours in the process.

“What am I then?”

“Probably a monster. A mean,ugly monster who disguised himself as an insufferably pretty boy who’s sole mission is to make my life a living hell.”

After you air out your complaints, it's his turn to laugh; the deep sound almost makes it hard for you to keep scowling at him.

“It still beats being a fairy princess hero, for sure! That job sounds right up my alley.” Luke exclaims, urging you to shove him with a roll of your eyes but he’s not at all unfazed. Rather, he shimmies closer to you so his mouth is at the same level as your ear.

“Y’know what being a ‘pretty monster who’s sole mission is to annoy you’ would mean right?” He asks you, and it’s like you can hear his smirk.

“What.” You reply, not bothering to correct his misquote.

“It means that I would get to be with you all the time.”

#percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the lightning thief #percy jackson fanfiction #fanfic #writing #percy series #own works #will probably regret posting this in the morning but thats not my problem rn #me writing this is so funny bc all the other stuff I have drafted for luke is ANGST

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lunarmoves · 11 months

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you don't think you'll ever get over how tall the daycare attendant is.

it's a bit intimidating at times, you think. all seven-foot-something of metal and silicon that tends to loom rather ominously over your own figure from time to time. you're not sure why they were made that tall, but you figure it has something to do with being able to see kids easier around the daycare. or maybe fazbear entertainment just likes making freakishly tall robots. who knows.

the first time it really strikes you how much of a height advantage they have over you is during the daytime hours of the daycare. some poor kid had gotten their toy thrown up onto the playground structure and it was stuck on the outside, nestled between two bars that you definitely can't reach from the ground nor from the inside of the structure.

you look down at said kid holding onto your leg after you'd scolded the other two who were the culprits of such an act and let out a small sigh. you don't like climbing, not particularly, but you guess you're going to have to suck it up for now. if only so the poor kid can stop making that teary-eyed expression at you.

you pat the kid on the head and take the few steps to the playground so you can grab onto one of the bars and pull yourself up. but before you can even attempt to shimmy your way farther up, a bright and certainly loud figure comes swooping in from behind you.

"heellooo friends! that's awfully dangerous to be doing here!" sun exclaims as he grabs you easily on the sides and lifts you from the playground to set you back on the floor. you blink up at him and watch as he extends a long arm (seriously, his arms are way out of proportion compared to the rest of his body) up to the toy and easily grabs it from its stuck position.

"i believe this belongs to you?" he asks the sniveling kid standing next to you, and they immediately brighten once their toy is back in their hands. sun gives them a little hair ruffle. "don't go losing it again, now! we don't want to get any boo-boos climbing where we shouldn't be, right?"

"mmh!" the kid nods, then wipes their snotty little nose on their sleeve and runs off to show their retrieved toy to their friends. sun's head turns 180 degrees to watch them scamper off, and then he's turning back around to face you with a wagging finger.

"friend! you know you can always ask me for help, yes?" he chides you in a way that makes you feel a bit embarrassed, but you only roll your eyes in good nature.

"c'mon sun, i'd thought you were busy with the others!" you frown, and the sight makes sun reach out a large hand so he can smush your cheeks together until your lips are puffed out like a fish's.

"i'm never too busy to help you, silly!" he says as you bat his hand away and rub at your cheeks. "all you have to do is ask!"

"i had it handled," you murmur, looking anywhere but at him. with the way sun is looming over you, slightly bent at the torso, you're covered in his shadow. it makes you feel small.

"climbing the outside of the playground does not set a good example for the children!" sun says, and his words make it seem like he's scolding you, though his tone is light and airy. "no, no, no, friend! we don't want you to get hurt, do we?"

"i get it already," you reply, stepping back slightly so you can look at him better without having to crane your head back. sun's head tilts slightly to the side, but he doesn't comment. "i'm not a kid, you know. a fall from that height won't hurt me." okay, yeah, maybe your pride's just a bit wounded at needing someone taller to do a simple task for you. sue you.

"it can if you fall right on your head!" sun gasps dramatically, bringing his hands up to his fixed smile. "no, better to be safe than sorry, okay?" he reaches down to boop you right on the nose. you wrinkle it at him then concede with a large sigh that's more for show than anything. this was a dumb semi-argument anyways.

"okay, i'll ask you for help next time," you relent, and it makes sun spring up, his rays spinning happily around his faceplate.

"wonderful!" he chirps, then reaches a lanky arm down to grab your wrist. "now, come! it's almost naptime!" you get practically dragged over to the sleeping mats, sun's long stride making you do an awkward jog to keep up.

you've long come to realize that sun tends to use his height to help you with different things. whether it may be cleaning parts of the playground equipment that you can't reach, or helping you stack things on shelves that were way above your arm's length. he just wants to be of good use, you suppose, no matter how teeny tiny it makes you feel.

you can't say the same for moon.

for where sun may inadvertently make you feel small, moon does it on purpose.

"moon, c'mon!" you groan, standing before him in the dark daycare after hours as he dangles your phone just out of reach over your head. you raise your arms up half-heartedly and try to snatch at it, but he pulls it up farther away from you when you do. "give it back."

moon snickers, white eyes upturned into crescent moons of delight. "no."

"moon," you say sternly, as though you have any power of authority over him (you don't). "please."

"no texting on the job," moon replies, even though you know that he knows you were literally just checking the time. you give him an exasperated look.

"moon. phone. now."

"no." then, as though to taunt you even further, he bends down to pinch your nose. "shorty."

you give him a glare and bat his hand away so you can rub at your poor nose. both him and sun liked to squish and squeeze you, you've noticed. "moon!"

he says your name back at you in the same tone you just used. it just makes you huff.

"if you don't give me back my phone, you'll regret it," you say ominously, mustering all the darkness you have in your body to make your scowl as scary as possible. moon just giggles. you don't think you're successful. he probably thinks you look like a wet cat.

"yeah?" it's obviously an invitation. he wants to see what you can possibly do. your mind's practically in overdrive trying to think of something on the spot. and you do come up with something. unfortunately.

there's a moment where all you do is stare at him. his head rotates curiously to the side. and then you launch yourself at him, hands gripping at his torso so you can claw your way up his body like you're some kind of small animal (to him, you probably are).

moon freezes for the slightest of seconds, and it gives you ample opportunity to shimmy your way up so that you can grip at his thin shoulders and pull yourself farther up. then he's leaning backwards slightly, his arm raising higher above his head to prevent you from reaching your phone.

"give!" you demand as you hook your feet around his body like he's a sliding pole and use one of his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as you extend your arm as far as it can go.

"cheating! cheater!" he barks out in response, and his voice is a bit muffled from where it's nearly against your stomach, but you don't care.

"not cheating! give me back my phone!"

it's a few moments more of this kind of struggling until you finally just end up yanking his nightcap over his face in a temporary distraction. it works, too. at least long enough for you to yank his arm down, grab your phone, and then leap off of him. you stumble a little when you hit the ground and spin around with a triumphant look as you notice moon has lifted his cap high enough so you can see the lower half of his eyes.

"ha!" you gloat, pocketing your phone right away so he can't snatch it out of your hands again. "you asked for it!"

moon simply stares at you. and just when you're starting to think that maybe he locked up or something, his mischievous smile returns with a vengeance as he bends low and raises his arms like he's about to grab you.

uh oh. you know that look. you don't even hesitate as you spin around on your heel and immediately make a run for it.

and well... as moon chases after you through the plex, his long shadow constantly overlapping your own, you figure that you'll just have to get used to being constantly swamped by the significantly taller animatronics. it isn't the worst thing, at least, but it will certainly take some time.

even if moon's an ass about it.

#i was strugglingto end this can u tell #fnaf sun x reader #sun x reader #fnaf moon x reader #moon x reader #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #the daycare attendant #fnaf dca #dca #fnaf daycare attendant #shay scribbles daydreams

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owliellder · 7 months

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Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable.

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open?

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her.

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.”

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well?

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-”

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again.

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point.

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 14

Part 1 Part 13

Even with rationing, it doesn’t seem to take long for the water to start running dry. Days, maybe, but it’s hard to say without a clock. The red of the sky never fluctuates. It’s red. Red, red, read. Steve’s starting to hate the color.

They’ve slept three times, but Steve suspects the boredom of rotting in the Munson’s trailer might be getting to them. There’s only so many games of truth or dare you can play until you start to drift.

So, water’s been getting low. The crease between Eddie’s brows has grown deeper each time he takes a furtive swig.

“We should go get water,” he says.

Steve doesn’t want to go out there. His shoulder still aches, sharp agony turned dull. It’s black around the edges, flesh turning necrotic. He hasn’t let Eddie see it since that first day; doesn’t want to needlessly frighten him.

“Steve?”

Steve heaves a sigh before heading to the door where he left his sneakers. “Maybe grab a few shirts to filter that shit again?”

Eddie follows him, plopping down to tug his boots on while Steve shimmies his own shoes on leaning against the door, one foot at a time.

“I was thinking we’d just take it back here and filter it in the bathroom,” Eddie says, yanking his laces tight. “Seems safer to do it with a locked door between us and anything trying to eat us.”

Steve thinks of his own house and the monster that got inside. Remembers the way the lock clicked on the door to the back porch. Had they locked the front? Did it matter, when that thing had knocked down his front door like it was made of tissue paper? He keeps his mouth shut.

“Good thinking.”

They go. It’s not a long trip, except how all trips feel long when there’s ash falling from the sky, and a shotgun clutched tightly enough to make your fingers numb, and Eddie Munson biting his lip to keep quiet at your side.

Steve feels woozy, like he used to during his brief stint in middle school wrestling. Coach would tell him to drop a certain weight and he would, counting calories at lunch with Carol, both ignoring Tommy’s snide comments. He’d only lasted a year. Didn’t like the uniforms, or the weight limits, or the violence.

He feels just the same now, only worse. He knows you’re supposed to eat sugar after you donate at the blood drive. Steve donated a lot of his own blood to that thing’s claws and hasn’t eaten anything at all.

The quarry looks just as the same as last time – bloody. They form an efficient assembly line – Steve plucking lids of bottles and passing them to Eddie where he’s standing with his toes in the water. Eddie fills them as Steve prepares the next bottle, taking the filled one back and replacing the lid before doing it all over again. It moves quicker without the need to sift.

It still feels like too long by the time they’ve packed all the bottles away.

It’s quiet on the way up the incline. Quiet through town. It’s quiet all the way up until they hear the sound of pounding feet.

Steve hears it first. He reaches out, snagging Eddie’s elbow, as the sound of steps move closer.

“Wha–” Eddie starts.

“Shut up,” Steve hisses.

They’re on the path heading toward the trailer park, just before the pavement turns to gravel and the trailers come into view. The forest looms on their right. That’s where the sound is coming from.

It sounds like a person. It can’t be that thing – it had moved silently except the vocalizations from its mouth. But, what if it’s a trick? What if it’s a trap? What if he and Eddie have both cracked and there’s nothing there at all?

He shoves Eddie a step behind him, the other boy stays alarmingly quiet as Steve raises his shotgun and puts his finger on the trigger, scope trained on the noise coming toward them through the woods, ignores the way his hands are shaking.

What bursts through the trees isn’t what they could have ever expected. It’s a kid with a tragic bowl cut. He’s got a dirty flannel with a garish red and yellow vest thrown over it. The knees of his ratty jeans are covered in dirt, his palms scraped, like his foot had caught on a few roots in his mad dash away from something Steve doesn’t even want to think about.

His pupils are pinpricks, the whites of his eyes almost glowing as he looks from Eddie to Steve, who still has his finger on the trigger. Pointing at a kid. He drops his grip on the trigger, slowly lowering the shotgun even though all he wants to do is drop it, kick it as far away as possible, and hold up his empty hands as a show of how dangerous he’s not.

It's a fucking kid. He can’t be older than thirteen.

“It was behind me,” the kid says.

Eddie sucks in a harsh breath behind Steve, and he knows they’re both thinking of the same thing. Bloody claws, and petaled mouths that open to display rows of teeth in gleaming, concentric circles.

“Shit,” Steve says, “Go go go!” He turns to jog down the path, picking up his pace when he hears two sets of footsteps following in his wake.

He reaches the door first, and yanks it open just as he hears it – an inhuman shriek. It’s indescribable. And unmistakable.

When he turns back, Eddie and the kid have just come into view. He gestures them wildly to speed up, to get through the door, to fucking run.

It unfolds in front of him like a dream: the way Eddie’s dragging the kid by his arm, feet moving fast enough to blur even as it feels like they’re not making any headway at all. The way the shriek grows louder.

When they finally make it to the Munson trailer, they fall through the threshold, tripping over the rug at the entryway. Steve closing the tissue paper door behind them. He stands, braced for impact, gun raised and pointing at the closed front door.

The shriek grows louder, and louder, and louder, until it peters off. Fades away. Like the thing had found new prey to terrorize. It takes long minutes of tense silence for Steve to lower the shotgun, turn to the other two huddled behind him.

Eddie has his arms up, as if he can shield the kid from that thing should it huff and puff its way through the matchstick front door. Hell, maybe he can. But, at Steve’s lowered gun, he drops heavily to the couch, slamming his forehead to his hands, fingers gripped into his hair hard enough that it has to hurt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Steve asks, looking at the kid. It comes out harsher than he means it to. The kid flinches, takes a startled step back toward Eddie.

“What Harrington means,” Eddie says, raising his head just enough to glare at Steve, “is are you okay?”

The kid sniffles, turning toward Eddie. His fists are balled at his sides even as he nods. “I��m fine,” the kid says, voice shaking enough to give his lie away.

“And what’s your name?” Eddie asks.

“Will,” he says, fingers loosening, shoulders falling. “Will Byers.”

Eddie gasps theatrically. “Not any relation to the great Jonathan Byers?”

For the first time, the kid smiles. It makes him look even younger. Steve’s stomach churns. “He’s my brother,” Will says, smiling shyly down at Eddie.

Steve has a hazy memory of a boy with an equally tragic bowl cut, disappearing into the hallways of the high school, sinking into the bleachers of sporting events, face hidden behind a camera. He wonders if that’s Will’s brother. If he’s missing him.

“And how did you get here, Will?” Steve asks, carefully modulating his voice. Keeping it even. Keeping it low. Will flinches, but he doesn’t step back again. Eddie still glares at Steve from behind the kid’s head.

“The Demogorgon,” Will says, “It got me.”

Part 15

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my fic #i accidentally deleted half this part and had to write it AGAIN which was infuriating

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lonophobic · 1 year

Text

“at least i finally got you back.”

tartaglia x male reader

pt. 2 of “should’ve just begged for me in the first place, huh?”

tw: smut, bottom!male reader, huuuggeeeee size difference, foul legacy!childe, dubcon? idk reader doesn’t stop him 🤷, fingering, humiliation, dumbification (kinda), crying, overstimulation, toys, reader almost passes out, childe big peepee hehe 🤭, im super fucking indecisive about what to call him at the beginning so all childe, tartaglia, and ajax are used, i think thats it maybe this is a long one

genre: smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

summary: tartaglia gets revenge, maybe a bit overboard though.

a/n: i hate myself

part 1

—

you had no idea how exactly this happened. actually, you did, but it made you feel a certain feeling.. fear? excitement? you weren’t sure, but you knew one thing for sure: there was no way you would be walking the next day.

ajax had asked you on a day together, as he had gotten the day off, granted by the great tsaritsa herself. just to note: it was just about a week after you fucked the living daylights out of tartaglia. the day started off nicely, actually. the two of you had a relaxing walk around liyue harbor, getting some snacks on the way. then, as the sun began to set, he had asked you to a duel, a friendly, innocent little match. and being relaxed and a bit tired from the day, you obliged.

maybe it was his talk during the match that caught you off guard, or maybe you were just tired, but he managed to hit you from the back, which gave him the opportunity to pin you down to the floor. you chuckled, you didn’t even get to use your elemental powers that much when he went into his foul legacy form. the man, who was about twice the size you were, looming over you made you remember what he said that week before-“i’ll be sure to get you back sometime.”you stiffen as you remember his promise, laughing nervously as he stared at you intently.

“tartaglia- you’re not thinking of doing it right now, are you? i-uh- we’re both pretty tired from the day..”

tartaglia hummed a response, his voice distorted from his foul legacy form. he stared at you for another split second, when he grabbed both of your hands and put them above your head, then proceeded to tear off your clothes like paper, leaving you in your underwear. you flinched at the cold air against your skin, as the sun was about to set and the colder winds started to set in.

”don’t worry dear, you’ll warm up in no time.”

you looked up to see tartaglia’s mask gone, so you could see his face. his hair was still slicked back, so you could see how dark his eyes were; clouded in lust and danger. you stiffened- maybe you shouldn’t have gone too hard last week. you were lost in your thoughts for a few seconds, but you suddenly came back when you felt your underwear being pulled off, and looked down to see his cock, and- ah. there’s no way that would fit. it was almost as long as your arm, and archons knew how thick it was. tartaglia noticed your hesitance, and laughed softly.

”hey, i’ll help you prep yourself so it won’t hurt as much, alright?”

you nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to think of how it would even fit inside.~at first, he had you finger yourself while he watched. it was humiliating, sure, but it definitely helped to loosen you up a bit. soon after, he used his own fingers which were noticeably larger than yours. you squirming against his fingers, which were knuckle deep inside. they would prod around, trying to find something. he thrust his fingers a few more times, which drew several more moans out of you, when he suddenly curled his fingers inside of you. just before you could cum, he dove down to deepthroat your cock, his warm throat around you throwing you off the edge, staining his throat white. you felt him gag a bit, before he pulled back and swallowed.

he smiled, and pulled his fingers out of you. he placed you so that you were facing towards him, and you would be sitting on his lap if his cock wasn’t right below you. when he started to align his cock with your entrance, you stiffened. you weren’t too fond of having your body ripped apart by cock, and tartaglia could tell. he rubbed your shoulder reassuringly, and sent you a gentle smile. you tried your best to relax as you felt his large tip slowly breach your entrance. you let out a whimper, already feeling the painful stretch. he slowly got the whole tip inside, groaning at the tightness. you were already struggling to catch your breath, already feeling full from just the tip. how the fuck were you going to handle the rest?? he let you stay for a few moments, then slowly lowered your hips down so that you were just about halfway down. you could just about feel him in your stomach- you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. he was too deep, and yet you were only about halfway down. he slowly pulled you back up, then dropped you back down to about halfway.

“HAHH-AugHhh..”

you moaned out- it felt too good, and yet it hurt so bad. you threw your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull. tartaglia seemed to have noticed the bulge on your stomach, which he took advantage of, and softly ran his fingers over it before pressing down on it harshly. you choked on a moan, and felt yourself cum for the second time this night. you spasmed around his cock, screaming into the night sky when he suddenly pulled you all the way down. you could’ve sworn that if he came, his cum would come out of your throat from how deep he was. however, you were just focusing on attempting to heal whatever he could have damaged while he feverishly thrusted in and of you as you felt like a cocksleeve; being used for his cock and his cock only. you felt yourself close already, and feeling him press up against your prostate sent you to cum again, strings of white spurting out of your cock. you heard tartaglia’s distorted moans and grunts, occasionally commenting about you-

“you’re so tight, i might’ve not prepped you correctly.”

“you feel my cock all the way inside, yeah? ‘promise to make you feel good.”

“how does foul legacy taste, huh?”

your arms were wrapped around his neck, digging your nails into his back. you could barely hear them at all; all you could think about was the cock you were bouncing on- how it slid in and out so easily, and yet still felt so big inside. the bulge that stretched your skin that showed you were barely able to keep it so deep inside.

“i’ll make you so addicted that you wouldn’t even want me to stop, ever.”

you could hardly process what he said, but you were already so drunk on his cock that you could barely feel yourself cumming over and over again. you faintly heard your own voice, and yet you could hear tartaglia’s grunts and groans as he thrusted as fast as he could, obviously close to his high. your vision was hazy, and you swore you saw stars when he pulled you down harshly and thrust up at the same time, groaning rather loudly as you felt something hot fill you up inside. it was liquidy, and you felt some of it start to leak out of your entrance and down your thighs. you twitched as you felt him pull out, his fingers scooping up the cum that dribbled down from your hole and pushing them back inside. you slumped against his chest, trying your very best to learn how to breathe again. you were drowsy, and about to fall asleep, when you heard tartaglia’s voice.

“aw, come on. you’re a half-god, right? if a mere human could take this, i’m sure you could as well, no?”

you flinched at his words, not knowing how to respond, not that you really could. whatever you tried to say came out as incoherent babbles, which seemed to amuse tartaglia. he reached back to pull something out of his clothes pocket- something oval-shaped, and a remote for something. then it clicked. it was a vibrator. you tried to push back against the harbinger, already twitching and sensitive beyond belief- you couldn’t possibly take more. unfortunately, tartaglia pulled you back to his chest, smirking against your hair. he took the oval-shaped vibrator and shoved it as deep as he could with his fingers. it wasn’t on yet, so it felt a bit strange to have one thing up inside, when it suddenly clicked on and you felt tartaglia’s dick entering you at the same time, slowly pushing the vibrator deeper and deeper. the vibrator pushed against your prostate as he started to fuck you again, your tears flowing down your cheeks as your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open. your head was thrown back in pleasure, your hands gripping onto tartaglia’s shoulders as best as you could. with all of your strength depleted, you fell back onto his chest, your arms hanging from his shoulders and your head was resting on his chest. you were twitching all over, cumming once again as you let out quiet, hoarse cries every thrust. you were about to black out- it was way too much stimulation, even for a half-god such as you. to give you some credit, a regular human would have passed out several hours ago. you finally heard tartaglia let out a series of groans, curses, and moans, before he released inside of you once again. he pulled out, taking out the vibrator along with it, as you were on the brink of passing out. you felt a hand on your cheek, and you groggily turned to see tartaglia back in his human form, smiling at you. you groaned, preferring to nuzzle your head back into the crook of his neck again. he laughed, pressing a kiss onto your temple.

“sorry if i was a bit rough. i know it was your first time with.. the foul legacy stuff.”

“what, it wasn’t your first?”

“what?? no, of course it was! it just… felt too good, i couldn’t really hold back. but, hey.” he grabbed both side of your face with his calloused hands, making you face him.

“at least i finally got you back.”

—

words: 1684 words of smut

also tumblr on mobile is a bitch i have no idea how to fix those huge gaps in between the paragraphs so sorry if it bothers you 😕 (nvm it fixed itself lmao)

also now i can stare at the wall and slowly disintegrate i’ve done my job here

#tartaglia x male reader #childe x male reader #ajax x male reader #tartaglia #male reader #bottom male reader #smut #holy jesus my brainrot is so bad #i kind of hate this #but its too long to get rid of lmfao

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writersblockedx · 1 year

Text

Bachelors

Pairing - JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader Summary - Y/n is the kook JJ has been effortlessly in love with for years now. Only problem being: she didn't date pogues. Warnings - good bit of angst, alcohol use, implications of sex Words - 2.2K

Masterlist

JJ should have been used to it by now. The flashy dresses which hugged her figure like a glove; the way her eyelids would flutter at the sight of any half-decent man; the smile she wore which was ever so slick and sinister. JJ also should have known that any kook with no originality or personality (pretty much all of them) would have brought Y/n here, to the restaurant he worked at.

Some would call it a coincidence that JJ happened to be on shift that night, but the boy himself believed this was God looking to taunt him. Her giggles erupted through the rest of the candle-lit room. Kook couples and families all intertwined, forkfuls of food and a demand for the waiter's attention. Yet the only attention that JJ cared for was Y/n's - and she was giving her all to the mediocre first date.

"And you know, the Grady White, it's a good boat, but it has nothing on the original." JJ overheard Y/n's date explain. He was some level-headed kook whose personality consisted of the white polo shirt he was currently wearing and boats apparently.

He slowed by their table, struggling to keep any sort of eye contact that wasn't a burning glare. "Can I get you guys anything else?" He questioned. "The bill?" Please say yes, JJ pleaded within his head. Whenever she didn't get another drink after the third course, the date had been a futile one.

But she flashed a smile and flicked her hair around as to face the blond, "Just another wine please." And like that, any hope faded from his pupils. He nodded, gave her date a stare before turning and rushing back to the kitchen.

She'd had two drinks after the third course. JJ knew what that meant: she was taking him home. He had talked to the girl enough as well as watched enough of these dates play out, and he was well aware of her tells. JJ knew when Y/n was interested in actually getting to know the date, when she definitely wasn't and when, like now, she was only interested in taking him home. And no matter how hard he tried, preyed and attempted to slither his way in, JJ was never one of her bachelors.

He was lucky to grab her before she slipped from the restaurant. His hand gently tugging at her arm, prompting her focus on him. "Hey," His voice was breathy, a whisper against the air between them. "You really going home with this idiot?" His head nodded to the door where, passed such, her date was awaiting their taxi.

A laugh escaped her lips, "What? You gonna stop me?" There emerged that smile, that sickening, sweet smile JJ was captivated by.

His hand never left from her arm. It lingered. "I just- he doesn't know what he's talking about." The blond had huffed. "That stuff about boats. I mean that's- it's obscene, you know that, Y/n."

"JJ, I'm not gonna reject him over his preference in boats." Her chuckle steadied as she suddenly became eager to join the man.

But the pogue tilted his head, never daring to let his touch leave her. "Maybe you should." His tone was serious. Only to be broken by the grin which was hanging at Y/n's lips.

"I'll see you later." And like that, she turned, taking steps away from him as his finger tips fell from her forearm.

As he had done a hundred times before, JJ watched the girl leave. He should have been collecting the bill of the other table, but he chose it better to loom for a moment, right until her shadow exited the restaurant completely and he was left wondering if Y/n would ever turn to a pogue and take them on a similar date.

By the next morning, there came no surprise to JJ when the girl wondered in. No longer dressed in her silky, expensive material but rather denim shorts and a t-shirt. The sort of thing she'd never wear to a date. The sort of thing she only wore around her friends, people like JJ for instance who was setting up for their lunch time rush.

"Later than I expected." He called as she drew closer to the boy. He had napkins shoved in both hands, rushing as he placed them down on the different tables.

There still lingered that smile at Y/n's lips. But her nightly experience had urged the enthusiasm to fade. "The guy wouldn't leave till he got my number." She informed, tailing behind him as she did many mornings after dates. "Had to give him a fake one." There came no reply from JJ and Y/n swore she had never seen someone so focused on napkins. "Here, let me-"

Her hands were reaching out to a grasp them, to help her friend, but her offer had been snatched away. JJ turned, a sour look dwindling in his pupils. "I've got it." He huffed before continuing on. "You ever think that maybe this isn't working for you?" He questioned, eyes centred on the tables he was decorating.

Y/n's brow raised, "What do you mean?"

"The dates." Said JJ, finally glancing to meet her dull expression. There came no smile anymore, just a reflection of apathy. "None of them seem to be turning into anything."

She thought on it for a moment but found herself shrugging, "Hm, I guess." JJ paused too as to face the girl. "But I've got the best system going. Possible bachelor walks in and I've already got JJ Maybank as my wingman for the night." She giggled at her words - something JJ hadn't accompanied her with.

"You ever think about dating someone who you've actually had more than one conversation with." He suggested, treading lightly into these uncharted waters.

"And where's the fun in that?" There laid a cheeky glint in her eye that JJ attempted (and failed) to ignore as he shook his head, walking back towards the front of house.

"I wouldn't have to listen to you complaining every week for one." He noted.

Absant-mindedly, Y/n swung an arm around JJ's shoulder. It was in that moment that the boy truly couldn't ignore the glint which settled in her gaze. "But I tip you so much." She argued.

His head tilted, "You mean you get your 'bachelors-" He added the air quotation marks to such, "to pay."

Y/n hummed, "Same difference."

"I honestly don't know why I help you." JJ uttered.

The girl leaned closer to him, "Because you love me." A paused followed before she continued, "And if you didn't, then who would I pretend is my toxic ex-boyfriend whenever a guy starts giving my the creeps."

Her arms slipped from him and she watched this expression mould carefully. All this time Y/n had been bombing on about dates, this and that, she had yet to come to note the sorrow look which was drowning JJ. The glimpse of such had made the smile dissipate from Y/n herself. "I can't do this forever, Y/n." The blond admitted.

"What do you mean?" Her words came with a chuckle as to try and lighten the suddenly thick atmosphere; it hadn't worked.

"I mean, my job isn't to play pretend boyfriend for you, or listen to how terrible or fantastic your date is going." He was seething and Y/n had never seen JJ so agitated. "My job is to wait tables, to clear plates and clean tables. I guess as a kook you don't understand that."

She shifted, a part of her aching just knowing this was how JJ felt, "JJ, I'm sorry, I didn't realise-"

"Of course you didn't." He interjected before giving her the chance to continue with his words. "All you talk to me about is this guy and that one. You know now I think on it, I can't remember the last time you actually gave a shit about what was going on in my life. I shouldn't even be surprised. You're a kook, what's it matter to you the shit that's going on in my pathetic pogue life."

The boy was about to turn, barely having it in him to look at that down-hearted expression the girl wore. But, before he was able to do so, Y/n reached out, her hand cupping his. "I'm sorry that maybe I'm bad at showing it, but I care so much for you JJ." He knew he was weak against her soft gaze. "I really do."

But as his gaze flickered between her and her hands, he couldn't bare it anymore. "Yeah, well maybe it's not that you're bad at showing it, maybe you just don't at all." And like that, he snatched his palm away, turned his back and rushed off so Y/n couldn't follow him.

She stood in the loneliness of the restaurant with thoughts flooding. Never had she stood in the spot she was now without someone at her side. Suddenly, Y/n came to realise how daunting that empty space was. It taunted her and she wanted nothing but than for JJ to return. But it seemed that, without even realising it, she had just drove the boy away.

It lasted a week. Y/n tossed and turned rather than sleeping. Her mind was a wandering mess and she couldn't even fill such with the futile dates she would usually arrange. So, rather, she had no choice but to fumble around her thoughts. Her mind went over and over the words JJ had spat at her that day. And she wondered if she would ever be able to make it up to him.

With JJ's words in mind, she strung together a plan. She contacted the restaurant, making sure he wasn't working that Saturday night and once such was confirmed, she organised the rest of her plan. As was her usual, Y/n was in her silky dresses, her hair perfected and her smile not daring to faulter. The only difference being that this night in particular, she wasn't waiting outside some kook house, or waiting for some flashy sports car to show up. Instead, she was in the cut, wandering up to JJ Maybanks looking like she didn't belong.

Her knuckles gripped the flowers in her hand as she huffed, climbing up to JJ's porch. With her free hand, she knocked against it, waiting patiently as heavy footsteps followed. The door swung open so abruptly it had almost made the girl jump. "Well, hello there, pretty lady." Sung Luke.

Y/n had only met JJ's dad a couple of times. Though, he was usually drunk or high when that had happened. But she'd heard stories. Some from JJ, some from other people on the island. Criminal, scum, dirty pogue. He lived up to the stories. "Erm, sorry, is JJ in?" She questioned, hoping she could keep conversation with Luke to a minimum.

He gave her the once over before his head turned back, "JJ! There's some rich lady at the door for you!" He yelled, loitering at the door before their came rumbles of sound from another part of the house.

"What? Dad I told you to send sales people away-" His words were aimless until he came from his room, his eyes settling on the girl who was standing in the doorway. "Y/n." He spoke her name like a breath of fresh air.

She offered a smile, "Hi."

JJ gave his dad a glance before taking his place, Luke wandering further into the house. "What are you doing here?" He inquired, staring between her dress, the flowers and her features.

"Showing you I care." She passed over the flowers and he took them with knitted brows.

"You bought be flowers?"

The girl could only shrug, "And there's a table booked at 7."

The boy wanted to be mad, but he couldn't. Not with the way she was looking at him. "What? Am I meant to be your date for the night?" There was humour in his tone.

"You'd have to forgive for that." She tested the waters with her words.

And when he took a step out onto the porch, she knew she had won against the odds. "And I here I was thinking you didn't date pogues." He said, coming to her side, offering his arm.

Y/n linked it with her own, "Only you." Her eyes glistened at him. Not like they did with the kooks she walked at the side of. Tonight, they were glistening in relief that the one boy she truly cared for finally saw such.

They hadn't even made it to the car when JJ had leaned over, brow raised, "You are gonna pay for it right?" A giggle escaped her lips. But she certainly owed it him.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #outer banks #outer banks season 3 #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fic #x reader #imagine #fanfiction

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spdrvyn · 7 months

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i love my husband — miguel o'hara drabble

fluff. heavy inspo on this video.

sorry for the inactivity and the lazy ass title, exam week came around before i could even start on the next request and i did nothing but relax the entire break (which was only FOUR days) so i'll bring this out and see if i can clear my sched enough to actually do shit. enjoy!

the moonlit sky reflects beautifully onto the shining surface of your mug, filled to the brim of chamomile tea and flooding your nostrils with delight as your body melts into the couch.

work kept you on the edge of your seat for the entire week, it was non-stop meetings and non-stop emergency calls even outside of your working hours that had you so stressed. you were sure you'd picked enough hairs out to make a wig.

the weekend is truly a blessing, you want to stay as far away as humanly possible from your phone and shut yourself out from civilization before you come protector of debra's last minute files.

you missed the soft cotton of your pajamas, not like you haven't worn them in the past couple of days but to actually be able to appreciate what it means to wear them and the greeting of a good night's sleep had you sighing and moaning almost a little too much.

you worked hard, you definitely deserved this. you grab a spare pillow and tuck it under your head turning to the side and looking at the city that surrounded you, your patience and tenacity at the office has now been rewarded with the view you're able to appreciate.

however, the shadow that looms over the carpeted floors of your flat don't go away even after rubbing your eyes. you look up and a faint red glow in the symbol of a very familiar spider catches your eye immediately, you smile lazily through the glass.

miguel slides open the door with no hesitation, cape still drifting in the wind from what you can only assume to be his own previous working activities. you can sense the tension wafting off of him like waves especially as he stomps all the way over to where you are on the couch and looks down at you.

his mask isn't off, he's still fully geared, and all you can do is stare back into those lenses.

that is until he surrenders, body giving up, and his body flops right on top of yours. it doesn't really surprise you, there have been times where miguel has come home after a worse day of saving the multiverse and traps you in a hug before you can protest or move. though you've never really seen him do this before.

he adjusts his position, but still keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you as you move as well so that you're holding him back. his face is buried into the crook of your neck and the feeling of his nose tickling your skin tells you that he unmasked already.

not a single word leaves his mouth, you silently adore the way he's melted into you already, the way the muscles on his back rise only to slowly fall again.

you don't want to break the silence, neither of you do. right now, the only form of communication that matters is touch. your lips burning kisses into his curls, your nose now erasing whatever of your tea was left and making the way for miguel.

he shies away from your touch with a small groan, "i stink."

a giggle threatens to break out from the back of your throat, as many times as he would insist that you'd keep going anyway. "so when you do it, it's fine? i see how it is then."

miguel chuckles, he inches himself into you further. deeper. his breaths become less and less shallow, it's clear that he's taking his fair share of sniffs from you as well. "because you smell good."

"i ran a bath, that's why." one last peck to his head and you opt to just comb his hair instead, running your fingers through the strands and observing as they twist back to curl after brushing it some more.

both of you stay like that for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, just being here. existing with each other. you always find moments like these beautiful, even when miguel is probably one work call away from shaking hands with the grim reaper.

in miguel, you've found yourself open to so many new experiences and risks you could've never imagined on your own. despite the many amount of times at the start of your relationship that he'd give you space and wouldn't be mad if you left, you kept still by his side anyway. you knew that he was worth it.

in you, miguel found that mundanity that he's never had his whole life. passing out on the sofa on his own never felt the same, most times he'd wake up still in his suit and would have to go to work right after anyway. yet with you, the stress ebbed away over time because he knew that you'd always be waiting for him.

whatever historians had with their relics, miguel had with you. not to keep them confined in a metal case, of course not, but he felt as if you were to be revered. kissed and touched with utmost respect and you'd bring the people their good fortunes and long lives. you certainly did for him and miguel might as well be immortal now.

his hands wander, fingertips delicately grazing over the skin tucked beneath your nightwear. he goes slowly, traveling up to your chest where he—

"miguel?"

his hands freeze, face going red. the guilt of possibly going too far is ready to break free from his heart and consume him until he can feel your body trembling with laughter.

"since you apparently stink so bad, shouldn't you shower first before getting so handsy?" miguel pouts at your comment, he already had the apologies locked and loaded for you.

"just a few more minutes, corazón."

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #fluff

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 4 months

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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 1,672

Warnings | +18, bullying, attempted sexual harassment, panic attack

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | I'm back with the second chapter of Happy Ending, I hope you can enjoy it 🥰❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

Toward the end of class, some had already turned in their drawings, others had yet to finish, and Jungkook intimated that they should bring them the next time they saw each other. Y/N shakily got up from her seat, sent down too much saliva as she came within a few steps of the boy, who lifted his face in her direction, giving her a warm smile. "Y/N! Are you done?" The girl nodded, unable to verbalize her thoughts, so she placed the drawing on the desk, bending down a bit, this gave Jungkook a chance to get a better peek at how she was dressed that day, drinking in the sight of her legs and imagining how soft and creamy they might be in his adoring hands. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the most unruly strands back, and Y/N froze, following his movements with her eyes.

"Wow, Y/N...great job, as always," he complimented, proud that his good girl had done such a detailed job of depicting the disembodied cloud with shapeless, skeletal hands-that to her was bullying, something no adult could see, but which managed to trap its victims in a spiral of suffering and muteness. The girl blushed at his words, bowing slightly before reaching her seat. Behind her back she sensed a slight snort that caused her to stiffen. Jungkook had to leave the command to another colleague, stared disgruntled at the girl, but vowed to do something for her, or rather, for both of them. He would not let that terrible pattern continue, Y/N deserved better, in his arms he would be able to give her the happiness and love she lacked, as he could clearly see.

And so the day continued, until it was time to return home.

Y/N hurriedly packed her things, the threat of Yoozu loomed over her, and anxiously walked out of the classroom. She didn't greet anyone, and no one greeted her, she looked fearfully at every corner of the corridors, a hustle and bustle of students and teachers did not allow her to increase her pace, she found herself pushing through the crowd almost in desperation, she wanted anything but to be in the jaws of her classmate. Oh, if only she had known... "So, beggar!" someone brutally grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to him right outside the university, Yoozu stared at her with anger concealed behind a fake smile, "We still haven't discussed the slap you so kindly printed on my face," he growled.

Y/N felt herself dying, she tried to wriggle out of her companion's firm grip, but it proved utterly useless, the boy's icy fingers pressed on her tender skin without restraint. "Let go of me! Let go of me, Yoozu!" she exclaimed in panic, her breathing shorter and her heartbeat faster, but he if possible painfully increased his grip on her wrist, painful bruises would appear shortly. "Not so fast, first you have to pay me back for the shit you made me look like today," he hissed, dragging her toward a more secluded alley, Y/N grabbed the mirror of a car parked nearby in a desperate attempt to save herself, but Yoozu was much stronger than she was, "Be good, I'll only need your mouth, then I'll let you go for today." Those words were the straw, the girl began to scream and call for help, Yoozu immediately plugged her mouth but it was too late. Someone had heard her, and that someone was smoking with rage.

"What the hell is going on here?" The quiet but unusually dangerous voice made the boy pale, and he suddenly let go of his grip on the girl. Y/N fell to the ground with momentum, right at the feet of someone she knew. She lifted her gaze and caught the icy expression on Jungkook's handsome face; she also seemed to catch a glimpse of murderous fury in his irises, but in fact she could not be one hundred percent certain. "I... nothing, I just wanted to apologize to Y/N for today," Yoozu dared to say, but Jungkook did not buy that pathetic excuse. "Is that so? It would seem anything but to me." Jungkook had seen the whole scene, had even managed to hear those vulgar words that had screwed up his self-control. "Professor, it really went like this! But Y/N didn't understand, she thought that-" a sob interrupted his absurd explanations, Jungkook's heart clenched, as did his eyes. "Kang Yoozu, you are expelled." "Wait, what! You can't do that! You are not the principal, and on the basis of what then?!" Yoozu panicked, Jungkook found it disgusting. "I'm not the principal, but I'm on good terms with him, as for the motivation...how does attempted rape sound to you?" he asked wryly, making the boy gasp. No, with such a charge no other university would have accepted him and his parents would have sent him to some godforsaken place in shame. "Professor, can we talk about this? Please, this will ruin my life," he prayed agitatedly, admitting his real intentions that way. "The more I listen to you, the more I want to ruin something else too! Get out of my sight, Kang!" he shouted furiously, Yoozu at first seemed not to understand, then casting a glance at Y/N's kneeling figure he took a step back and began to run.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself somehow, he couldn't believe what had happened before his own eyes, he turned to the girl and felt only immense pain, she was on her knees on the icy asphalt wet with rain, she kept holding her head in her hands, trying to stifle her sobs. He lowered himself in her direction, god, she was beautiful even with her face overflowing with tears. He brought two fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to lift her face to his, chaining their eyes together. "Hey, Y/N..." he gently blew on her, gathering the tears that ran down her full cheeks with his thumbs, "Are you okay?"

If possible, Y/N exploded into more sobs, throwing herself on her professor. She pushed into his chest seeking comfort, Jungkook was frozen for a moment, he did not expect such a reaction from the girl, his heartstrings tugged filling with warmth, he returned the embrace immediately, holding that tender body to him. "It will never end," she cried into his neck, breathing hard between sobs and bathing the boy's skin with warm salt water, "It will always be like this." Jungkook stroked her hair, imprinting the sweet scent of her on his mind, mentally whispering to her that no, it would not be like this anymore, that he would protect her. "No, Y/N... I'll talk to the principal, they won't hurt you anymore, trust me," he said instead continuing to gently caress her back, having her like this was like a dream just realized, he didn't even know how long he had wanted it, "Can you trust me, Y/N?" He moved her face away from his chest, seeking a clear answer from her, he wanted to be sure she wanted his help. Y/N let a trembling sigh escape, nodding. Jungkook's eyes were so sincere and crystal clear that it was natural for her to trust him, although her body still trembled at the mere thought of what Yoozu wanted to do to her. "Yes, I can," she murmured, Jungkook felt the need to kiss her just then, she was so polite and tender his little girl, who knows if she would have said the same begging him to give her more.

"I'll drive you home, Y/N, I have my car right next door, okay?" the young woman nodded without thinking much about it, her mind still too shocked by recent events to really think. Jungkook helped her up, escorting her to his car as if she had been a little doll in his hands. They both climbed into the vehicle and Jungkook got directions to find their way, cast a glance at the younger woman's legs, his hand itching to touch them, but he forced himself not to go too far for the moment. Rather, he focused on the magnificent smell of his favorite student, but the closer he got to his destination, the more he found himself turning up his nose. He didn't like that neighborhood; it was one of the most dangerous in the fucking city. Every day on the news there were reports of robberies, or worse. He cast a sidelong glance at the girl, wondering how she had survived in that place so far. Knowing her in that bad place upset him in no small part, and when they reached the apartment building Jungkook's gaze grew hard-they could all get to those windows, they were pretty old, too.

"Well, I live here, professor! Thank you for the ride and... for the help," she found herself saying impishly, Jungkook melted into yet another smile that day, the real and sincere ones were all for her, she just didn't know it yet. "Just ask, Y/N...and I'll be here for you," he said earnestly, the girl nodded, unable to respond and opened the door to get out of the car, gave one last wave and then ran inside. Leaving behind the eager gaze of her teacher. She closed the door to her apartment behind her back, a deep warm throbbing did not hint at leaving her anytime soon.

Jungkook's presence was all she could think about, she let herself slide against the surface of the door, in her mind were imprinted images of the man holding the steering wheel firmly in his strong hands, his muscular arms still uncovered and damp with rain, seemed strong enough to carry her without any effort at all, not to mention how he had defended her without too much trouble, quietly defying the economic power of Yoozu's parents, she clutched her legs to her chest, hiding her red face between them. Damn, she was really in love.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #bts fanfic #yandere

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fetishfairytales2 · 1 month

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Besties 7

This was originally written as a continuation of a story by @wittlesissyb4by called Besties. Check out all their fantastic stories on Tumblr and SubscribeStar.

—————

“I am going to have a blast destroying you in every way imaginable - mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm going to break you…" I couldn't even finish that sentence before Brandon ran for the door. This was getting too entertaining. I stuck my head out the door and saw Brandon stumbling down the hallway. "Cruciex,"I sang out with a wicked grin.

I cracked up as Brandon froze and spun towards the corner of the hallway. He just stood there, like a statue, while I sauntered over. Giggling, I brushed my fingers against his face and purred in his ear, "You're just too much fun to fuck with. Give in, you precious little sissy, save yourself the struggle.”

I gripped Brandi's ear tightly and yanked him back into the bedroom. His eyes couldn't even meet mine as I berated him, "Do as I say, you stupid little sissy. Your diaper-clad ass belongs to me!" I couldn't resist squeezing harder, causing him to wince in pain as I dragged him to the bed.

"Go lay on the bed, Brandi." I laughed, shoving him onto the mattress and easily restrained his left wrist. Smugly, I taunted the tied up loser; "aww, such a helpless, weak little diapered baby. Can't even stop a girl from beating you up!" I used the handcuffs to secure his right wrist next. "Tsk, tsk," I shook my head; "you should have behaved like a good little girl…"

I pulled Brandi into a seated position by on the bed by his hair. "Make yourself comfortable, loser. This is going to be a long night," I taunted as I settled in next to him, resting my head on his chest. Grabbing my phone, I saw three messages from Heather.

"Hmm, let's see…" I said, scrolling through the texts on my phone. I playfully ruffled his hair and continued, "Looks like Mommy is having a great time with Daddy Connor. She's sharing all the juicy details with me. But don't worry, I'll save them for story time later." I sat up and laughed at one text in particular. "Make sure Brandi is punished severely if she cums.

Brandon side-eyed me nervously from behind his pacifier gag, clearly clueless as to why I was cracking up. "Relax, sissy," I sneered as I loomed over his powerless frame. "You'll figure it out soon enough! Heather specifically asked me to tell you that she and Daddy Conner love you." I could see the bewilderment in his gaze; "my bad," I chuckled while rechecking the message. "They love tormenting you. Whoops, guess that's a little different…"

I whispered gently into Brandi’s ear as I peered down at the helpless and terrified loser. "Listen up, sissy. Keep those eyes locked on Ms. Lyndsey and all my beauty. Don’t let your mind wander. I want you fully focused on your gorgeous cuckysitter…" With a flirty wink, I bent down and placed the lingerie and vibrator on his lap. "Would you mind holding these for me, sweetie?" I asked with a mischievous tone.

My hands glided down my chest as I gave Brandon a sexy gaze, raising one eyebrow and letting out a quiet sigh. God I was going to tease him until those blue balls exploded! "You know what, maybe I need to change my outfit. What do you say, Brandi?" I began unbuttoning my jeans, slowly sliding them down and swaying my hips. I paused as I hooked my thumbs into the hem of my shirt.

I locked eyes with Brandon and slowly started to lift my shirt. "Normally, I wouldn't feel comfortable stripping for a man," I quipped, tossing my shirt aside. "But you're not a man, are you? You're a pathetic little sissy." I flirtatiously twirled the shirt around my finger as I advanced towards him, still staring him deep in the eyes. "A silly little sissy with a locked up clit," I chuckled, letting the shirt fall to the ground.

Brandon squirmed in his cage, his desperate eyes couldn't seem to look away from the sight of me slowly undressing. "Aw, does Baby Brandi want to make cummies?" I teased, laughing at his obvious arousal. I slipped out of my jeans, revealing my black thong and giving him a good look at my ass. Spinning around, I could practically feel Brandon's poor clitty throbbing in its cage. "Does your little dick hurt, Baby Brandi? It must be so tough being denied your sissy squirties," I said, relishing in his humiliation.

I casually slipped off my bra and let it fall to the floor, making sure to keep one arm across my chest, just to deny him even that for the moment. Brandon's eyes bulged as he watched me, and I couldn't resist teasing him a bit more. "Oh baby, this is just the beginning. You just go ahead enjoy it…while you can," I taunted, strutting over to him and grinding my tits against his face. "Don't worry, there's plenty more where this came from," I whispered seductively in his ear as I turned around and showed off my ass. Slowly, I teased him as I slid my thong down, slipping it down my legs. “Aren’t they pretty?” I asked sweetly, holding up the black thong in front of Brandon. He nodded, unsure of what was happening now.

"Got a present for ya, loser!" I purred, holding it closer his face with a smirk. "Just breathe it in, babe," I cooed making sure to slide the panties over his nose and face, enjoying the way he shuddered at the scent of me. "Not used to being so close to pussy anymore, are ya?" I teased, my body pressed against his as I circled around him. "Now, are you ready for what's next, sweetie? I can't wait to see you squirm."

I began swaying my hips as I straddled his lap now. My fingers traced along his inner thighs, causing him to moan in frustration. Pressing my body against his, I could feel him trembling underneath me. "You're enjoying this, ain't ya?" I teased, pulling away once again. His gaze never left mine. "You're just a helpless sissy, even with your little dick locked up you still crave me, huh? It must be so frustrating!"

I strutted around, my hands playfully pressed against his chest as I got closer and closer. “It must be so hard for you sissy. It’s probably been months since Mommy drained those little sissy balls…” Each little sway of my hips elicited a muffled moan from his stuffed mouth. The way his cheeks turned pink and his eyes widened only made me want to push him further. “Poor Baby Brandi is never going to cum again, is he?” I leaned in and placed my lips against his neck, feeling his skin run hot as I kissed and licked him.

"Looks like it's time for the main event," I purred, stepping back and picking up the lingerie strewn on the floor. I stood over his body, looking down at him with a smile. "You must have loved watching me undress earlier, little sissy. But I have a feeling you'll enjoy seeing me get dressed even more!"

Turning around, I shot a flirty look over my shoulder and gave my back a nice arch, showing off my ass. I could practically feel his eyes on me as I reached down and grabbed hold of my delicate, black g-string. With a cute little sway of my hips, I leisurely pulled it up my legs, feeling the soft fabric against my skin. "Mmm," I moaned; "imagine being the lucky guy that gets to take this off of me…"

I was feeling myself in that moment, I looked killer. I stood up tall giving him the full view of my naked bod. Poor sissy was mesmerized. I purred, "looks like you're getting the VIP view, huh?" I couldn't resist throwing a little wink and booty shake; "wait til I turn around… I said, spinning to face him, finally showing him my tits up close.

“Aw, what's wrong, Brandi?” I teased, batting my eyelashes innocently as I ran my fingers over the silky fabric. I could practically feel Brandon drooling over me, but we all know he's locked up tight in that little pink cage. I held up the sexy black bra and smirked down at him, hand on my hip. "I mean, I get it, I'm hot," I joked, "but you can't ogle me like that!" I playfully smacked his crotch, "I better get dressed and out of your reach, you horny little sissy. You don't want to get in trouble, right?" I slipped on the bra and pouted; “aww, poor sissy couldn’t control himself and now he doesn’t get to see any more boobs. How sad for you!”

I got down on my knees, straddling Brandi. His eyes were filled with fear as he looked up at me, trembling ever so slightly. In a low voice, I asked him, "It's been a hot minute since you've been this close to a cute girl, huh?" I gave him a wink and a smirk. "You better pray I don't spill the beans to my man about this. He might be the next one to teach you a lesson!" I couldn't help but giggle as I slowly licked along his earlobe and he whimpered.

"Remember, Brandi, when I shared with you how I used to drive my college boyfriend crazy? Eventually, he stopped letting me tie him up! I pouted and snuggled closer to my sissy, resting my head on his shoulder. I whispered in his ear, my breath teasing him. I moved my thong away from his nose and took out his paci, sliding my tongue around his lips making him moan louder. "No, no," I laughed as he tried to beg. “I don’t want to hear a word…” I quickly shoved the penis gag back into his mouth and secured it with my panties.

"Ugh, he said I was too mean," I said, crossing my arms and mimicking a temper tantrum. "I would tease him for hours, but then of course, I would let his poor pent up cock explode inside me," I began, running my nails teasingly along Brandon's thigh, as he hung onto every word of my story. "But then he had to go and get all sensitive on me, just because I ignored his safe word for a few hours, like three or four times. What a buzzkill!" I exclaimed, looking down at the helpless, bound and gagged sissy with excitement. "But you, my little doll, won't give me that kind of attitude, will you? You're all mine to play with however I want. Even if sometimes I play with my toys a little rough, right? I mean, they are my toys! I'm the one who gets to break them."

Trailing my fingertips along the edges of Brandon's skirt, I made my way to his thighs and the crotch of his diaper. "Poor little Brandi, is your diaper all wet?" I teased, faking sympathy. I lightly explored the outside of his diaper before brushing my fingers against the head of his chastity cage. As my hands continued their journey up his legs, goosebumps formed in their path.

"Do you need a diaper change already?" I teased, watching as his breath quickened with anticipation. I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his diaper and undid the tapes on each side, leaving the diaper still under him. I couldn't resist chuckling at the sight of his little pink micro chastity cage. "Aww, look at your poor caged clitty," I grinned, flicking it lightly. “How pathetic.”

I retrieved the small key from the chain around my neck. I just couldn't resist playing with Brandon. "Hmmm, should I use this cute little key and release you from your cage?" I tease, holding the key in front of his eyes. His anticipation was obvious, and I couldn't help but laugh and dangle the key just out of reach. "But only if you behave, Brandi dear. Can you do that for your evil, yet oh-so-lovable Ms. Lyndsey? I promise it will be worth it."

I reached forward, gently stroking the front of Brandon's face with the key. "Poor sissy sweetie, you don't have a say in the matter, do you?" I cooed. "All I want you to think about is the incredible feeling of the real orgasm you’ll never have again and how badly you want it. No matter how mean I may be, and no matter how much I torment you, just focus on those sissy squirties, got it?"

Deliberately, I unlocked the chastity cage, twisting the key in the tiny padlock toying with Brandon's emotions. I could feel his hips thrusting in the air as he squirmed in his spot. I couldn't resist dragging out the moment, enjoying every second of it. I was living to ruin him. I wanted his mind to melt before the end of the night.

Finally, I unlocked the cage and slid it off, exposing his tiny, shrunken dick. "Oh my god, it's so small!" I giggled, playfully tracing my index finger around the tip. I could feel him squirming with excitement, his arousal was pouring from him. It was time to push just a little more.

“Okay, you little sissy, it's time for your punishment," I purred into his ear. "Close those pretty little eyes and don't you dare open them," I commanded, keeping my finger lightly pressed around his clitty. With a devilish grin, I reached for the wand vibrator I had placed on the bed earlier, flipping it on and feeling the strong vibration travel up my arm. Brandon couldn't help but squirm at the sensation, trying to escape my grasp. But I was ready and grabbed the base of his cock, holding it firmly in place.

I delicately trailed the vibrator along the underside of his shaft, feeling his muscles tense and relax at the sensation. His eyes were filled with desire as he watched me, silently begging for me to stop. I could hear the muffled whimpers behind his gag and see the drops of sweat forming on his forehead as he writhed and squirmed against his restraints. "Oh no, silly sissy," I chuckled, responding to his wordless pleas. "This isn't for your pleasure, it's a punishment. You've been begging to be let out of your cage for so long, and now you're getting exactly what you wanted. Don't even think about cumming though, sissy! Not yet…"

I put the wand right against the tip of his cock, giggling as he writhed under me, feeling every vibration pulsing through him. His muffled screams through the gag only made it more amusing. "Oh honey, did you really think we were gonna take things slow?" I taunted, switching the vibrator to its highest setting. His body contorted and he struggled even more as I traced the toy along his shaft. I could feel his resistance in his tense shoulders, but I just laughed and enjoyed his suffering.

#humili sissi

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princessbrunette · 4 months

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boarding school by ldr is sooo rafe 💗

kook!reader who just moved back to the obx after her parents moved bc of work, not remembering the Camerons too well but all of her friends are like “rafe this, rafe that..” so ofc she has to see what the hypes all about !!

but!!! getting sososoo disappointed when she’s at a party and he’s all pissy and rude to everyone ! rafe is all heart eyes for her, but she keeps shrugging him off 🙈🫶🏽

cute! 🌸

just watching him in action, seeing the way he interacts with others was enough for you. you’d come to this party to sit back and observe, figure out what all the hype was about — but it seemed all the buzz had been generated over just another stuck up Kook. it was guys like him that gave you all a bad name.

he was rude, not just to guys but to girls too— shrugging them off and sipping his drink when they tried to make a move. it was odd, really. he was gorgeous, you had to admit. but his personality was less than favourable, and your curiosity quickly faded, deciding to just enjoy your night with your friends instead.

you felt his presence next to you before you saw him, saw the colour of his shirt in your peripheral vision looming over you as you pour yourself another drink at the drinks table, eyes lasered in on the red solo cup in your hand making sure not to spill any liquor from the bottle. you mentally prepare yourself to remain composed and dignified, waiting for him to tell you to get the hell out of his way like he did the last person who dared stand where he wanted to stand.

“hi.” he calls over the music instead. you think you must have misheard him, so you ignore it all together. but he leans forward and speaks again. “i feel like i know you from somewhere.”

you turn and look up at him, heart thumping a little and he’s smiling. years are taken off his face when he grins, maybe that’s why he doesn’t do it much— less manly and more boyish. it’s almost sweet, and you would have probably fell for it if you hadn’t been watching him earlier.

“me?” you ask, all wide eyed and it makes him chuckle, nodding. god, he really had an intense stare— like seriously, his eyes haven’t moved from your face since the beginning of this interaction.

“yeah. you.” he surveys you for a moment. “what are you drinking?”

you ignore his question and raise an eyebrow, observing him right back. “you said you know me from somewhere?”

he shifts on his feet, eager and almost skittish like he wants to reach out and touch you or something. rafe briefly stuffs his hands in his pockets instead, so different from the guy you’d been watching all night to the point where you were starting to wonder if he had a twin.

“well yeah. ‘remember faces, y’know?” his lightly brings his finger to his temple in gesture. “uh i— aha,” he cuts himself off with a chuckle, leaning in a little. “i don’t forget the pretty ones.”

you panic a little, because well — it’s rafe cameron, coming onto you, and quite frankly he scares you. so you stare up at him a little dumbly, bottom lip tucked between your teeth before clasping your cup in both hands nervously.

“i dont — i uh— have to go back to my friends now.” you’re meek and it pains you, but you scurry off anyway, barely glancing back. you’d think that would have totally weirded him out, and hoped maybe it was enough to get him to leave you alone — but you couldn’t be more wrong, if anything he was encouraged.

you were constantly reminded of his poor treatment towards others because he stayed near you the whole night, mouthing off about pogues or telling randoms to ‘get the fuck out of his way’ all whilst following you around like a dumb, lovesick puppy. you ignored him at best, brushed him off when he gently took your arm and offered to join a game of suck and blow with you, or even beer pong. each time you rejected him, the more determined he was.

a while later, he gently grabs your arm again and you sigh loudly — sick of his chasing.

“hey i— i just wanna get to know you, a’ight? i’m not a bad guy.” his eyes are a little wide, watery from drinks and whatever else. it rings alarm bells in your head but you stare up at him regardless. maybe it was the drink that had you moving slower.

“you… you are a bad guy! you’re not nice!” it comes out childishly and you hate that for you, even pouting in frustration which makes the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. he thought you were the cutest thing ever, and he had to have you.

“so you’re tellin’ me… all i gotta do is start treating these nobodies nice and you’ll give me a chance?” he raises his eyebrows, ducking his head a little hopefully. you wanna slap him, tell him no and that you see through his little act. but… there’s something charming about him. something that’s drawing you in. what was it about rafe cameron that had everyone up in arms?

“its… definitely a start.” you cross your arms over yourself, sulking. he huffs out a relieved smile, running his fingers over his chin as he stares off, nodding.

“yeah i… i can do that.” he agrees and you stare at him expectedly, putting your wall back up.

“okay… are we done now? can i enjoy my night?” you sass, and he nods, holding his arm out to gesture to the doorway to the room everyone else was in.

“after you.” he drawls, watching you pass him. his eyes don’t leave the back of you, deadset on winning you over— and rafe always gets what he wants.

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb

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blueywrites · 1 year

Text

turtle dove and the crow, part two

A 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader

story tags: 18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending.

chapter tags: 18+. p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, threats of animal violence (there will be no animal violence in this fic).

PART TWO: REAL LOVE, BABY (9.9k)

I’m a flower, you’re my bee

It’s much older than you and me

I’m in love, I’m alive

I belong to the stars and sky

Let’s forget who we are for one night

We’re not animals, baby

It’s the people who lie to themselves

Real Love Baby— Father John Misty

Somehow, the knock on the front door the next day comes as a surprise.

Maybe it shouldn't have; maybe you should've risen expecting Eddie to call on you first thing in the morning before you'd even brushed all the tangles from your hair. You hear those three sharp knocks while sitting cross-legged at the kitchen table, slowly nibbling on a piece of toast slathered with butter and homemade apple jam and still rubbing the crust from your eye with the other hand. You frown towards the front door, suspicious, at first, that the sound may have been a hallucination borne of your sleep-heavy mind. But when you hear it again, you rush forward in your flimsy nightgown, grabbing your Mama's housecoat from where she'd left it hanging over the stair railing and wrapping it around yourself as you hasten to answer the door. The thought of a visitor seeing you in such a state brings a little self-conscious heat to your cheeks, though the coat protects your modesty; still, there's no alternative. Pa's already out working, and Mama's started on the weekly washing, which typically takes her nearly the whole day and can easily put her in a gruff mood. The last thing you need is to start the day off on the wrong foot by making her answer the door.

You reveal your visitor. And though the sight on the other side of the screen still separating you might be a surprise, the way Eddie's face brightens so eagerly when he sees you - his features all lit with handsome delight like he's seen the thing he desires most in this world - tells you the whole story.

You can't help the sappy smile that plucks at your cheeks when he pulls the screen door open, letting it thump to prop against his hip as he removes the final barrier between you. Eddie looks a dream haloed by bright summer sunlight, dew darkening his loafers as he stands on the mat at the threshold of your door. Your eyes trail from his shoes upward, skating over bony ankles which lead to long pale legs and ruddy knees exposed beneath the hem of smart beige shorts. His button-up shirt sports a checkered pattern and is practically wrinkle-free, and there isn't a smudge of dirt on him— not on his pale forearms, nor his neck, nor his rosy cheeks. And what's more: his hair looks freshly washed, curls bouncy as if the water from his bath has just finished evaporating off them, leaving his bangs soft-looking and slightly frizzy as they ruffle in the early morning breeze.

"Hi." Eddie's voice isn't at all sleep-hoarse when he greets you— in fact, it's downright chipper to match the sparkle in his umber eyes.

"Hi," you echo, still sleep-hoarse yourself but sweet all the same. Eddie's curls rustle again with another gust of light wind, and your fingers itch to reach out and feel that softness for yourself.

Before you can, you feel Mama's presence looming as quick-shuffling steps halt right behind you. Eddie's spine snaps a little straighter as he sees her over your shoulder; he tucks his hands behind his back like he's standing in a military line.

"Good mornin', ma'am." His broad smile is oozing with charm, and you have half a mind to peek behind you to see if it put a chink in your mother's stony expression, considering the way it makes your own heart squeeze in your chest.

"Good morning, Edward," she says, not quite stiff but with a hint of wry amusement.

Clearly, his charm doesn't work as well on her as it does on you, but Eddie perseveres nonetheless, asking politely, "I was wonderin', given it's Saturday and all, if maybe y/n would be available for a while this morning? I was hopin' to read to 'er from this book—"

He pulls the hardcover from behind his back, presenting it to your mother with a flourish. She cranes forward to peer at the cover— a knight on horseback firmly gripping a lance, with the words Don Quixote embossed overtop— but she merely leans back, resting on her heels rather than taking it from him. Eddie finishes his sentence hastily. "—if that's all right with you, ma'am."

You do turn to face her then, eyes wide and pleading. "Oh, Mama, can I? I really wanna know what happens next." Your face flashes with hopefulness as a sudden idea occurs to you. "And I can practice my embroidery, too, to get ready for the showin' at the fair."

Caught between your hopefulness and Eddie's earnestness, your mother relents quickly in the interest of hurrying this business along. "Go'n get yourself dressed, now," she instructs you. "I'll not have you sittin' on my porch in your bedclothes for the neighbors to gawk at."

With a bright beam directed toward the boy before you, you spin and hurry up the stairs before your Mama can change her mind.

When you emerge onto the front porch— dress thrown on, hair hastily brushed, embroidery basket in hand, cheeks rouged from being pinched between your fingers as you rushed down the stairs so as not to keep Eddie waiting— it's to a symphony of late summer in the early morning. The squeaky creak of the weathervane and the trill of birdsong punctuate the light air, which is scented by the heady perfume of the hydrangea bushes framing the base of the porch. You take a moment to breathe them in, letting the air rush into your lungs— dry, not quite crisp, but not as heavy with humidity as yesterday. This August morning is sunny and bright but mostly still and quiet; it's early yet for the dirt road beyond your front yard to be anything but empty, save for the occasional motorcar mosying in the direction of town.

You glance automatically toward where you assume Eddie will be, but the two rocking chairs to your right are empty; you glance to the left and see that Eddie has chosen to sit on the wicker couch instead, nestled into the corner against the floral cushions. Your expression shows your curiosity about his choice, and an easy, lopsided grin accompanies his explanation.

"Well, I thought about sittin' in the rockin' chairs like we normally do," Eddie tells you, one arm slung across the back of the couch and the other dangling the hardcover from loose fingertips, "but I changed my mind on account of my voice."

He pauses, eyes twinkling with mirth as your nose scrunches with predictable puzzlement. "Your voice?" you question, and his smile widens.

"Tha's right," Eddie declares, leaning forward and crinkling his brow in an exaggeration of earnestness. "M'voice is just so tired from that story you made me tell you yesterday. Y'know, you really twisted my arm with that one, turtle dove. Really took a lot out of me, weavin' you that yarn."

The rasp of Eddie's voice sounds just the same as usual— no more throaty or hoarse than normal, like he's claiming. You cock your hip and plant your unoccupied hand there as you raise a skeptical brow, but he ignores you. And that voice of his is still warm with brashness as Eddie falls into a cadence somewhere between smug and teasing. "So you got to sit close to me, y/n, if you want me to read to you from this here book. You don't wanna wear me out by makin' me speak too loud, now, do you?"

Eddie raises his arms, the book dangling shakily now in his grip as he wiggles all his fingers, beckoning you over. You twist your lips against a pleased smile, an affectionate tingle stirring behind your sternum as you sigh theatrically. "Holy moly, Ed, you really are such a wuss," you pretend to grouse. "The things I do for you."

Eddie's face brightens as you pad over, bare feet skimming the porch floorboards worn soft with age. You hesitate for a moment near the leftmost cushion before choosing the middle. As you sit down, Eddie shifts his body so that, in the position he's facing, you have no choice but to lean back half against his chest and half against the cushion, your embroidery basket in your lap. The floral cushions are scratchy, but Eddie's shirt is so smooth, as is his hot skin where his arm is thrown along the back of the couch behind your shoulder as if encouraging you to nestle into his side. You give into the temptation, relaxing into his chest, which is firm and yet soft. You and Eddie shift and shimmy a bit until you're both comfortable and ready to take up your activities; as you pull out your embroidery needle and choose your threads, Eddie props the book against his knee, his loafer braced on the wicker edge of the couch seat.

And with that, Eddie begins to read to you from the book he'd forgotten yesterday. Yesterday, you'd been disappointed by that fact, but now, you couldn't be any more grateful.

It's still hot, but as the minutes tick on and the sun rises higher in the sky, the day remains not as hot as yesterday. The breeze keeps you comfortable as it plays with the pages of Don Quixote and the edge of the fabric peeking from the embroidery hoop in your hand. You move the needle in and out, in and out, and it weaves like the cadence of Eddie's voice as he reads to you, lulling you into contentment. That contentment stretches like a cat when he runs his calloused thumb lightly against your upper arm, the rough pad catching the skin there. Its path is stuttering, slightly uneven because of it, but you just lean into him more, humming as it relaxes you. And Eddie smells so unbelievably good— clean like laundry powder and hay but musky like tobacco and the salt of his skin. His voice rumbles in his throat and chest, smooth and even and practiced as he lets the words dance from his lips to create pictures in your mind as your fingers twist and pull the needle without much conscious thought.

And every once in a while, Eddie's words will fade into silence like the light of a firefly. He'll turn his head to let his dry lips skim your temple before returning to his book, his voice picking up again as if he'd never interrupted himself. Each time is abrupt, as if a sudden impulse has caught him; sometimes, he even stops speaking right in the middle of a sentence to whisper his lips against your smooth skin. It's a light touch, gentle as the beat of a bird's wings— reverent and sweet, a graze that has your heart turning in your chest with the utter rightness of it.

After some time, the deep grumbling of an engine draws your gaze to an approaching truck, faded blue and familiar. As it rambles up the drive and rolls to a stop before the red house next door, you can see the curve of Eddie's uncle's shoulder and the plaid of his gray shirt just barely visible through the smudged side window. The puttering engine silences, and you smile and wave as he pulls himself from the driver's seat like he's made entirely of creaking joints before slamming the door shut behind him in a rattle of steel. "Mornin', Mr. Wayne!" you call, wagging your arm high in the air until he spots you. He crosses around the front bumper to trudge up the steps toward the front door, throwing you a brief wave before pulling the straw hat from his head and rubbing the sparse hair that encircles the bald spot on his crown. Once the door has thumped closed behind him, Eddie lets the arm slung across the back of the wicker couch fall heavily upon your shoulder, and you giggle as he wraps it around your clavicle to pull you tighter against his chest. "What're you makin' there?" he asks, peering over your shoulder.

You hold it up to show him the thread dangling from the N of the completed 'MUN' stitched in the left half of the hoop's center. There's the suggestion of a flower below it— a large deep brown circle with a smattering of butter-yellow petals beginning to surround it, along with a few deep green leaves. "I'm makin' it for you," you say, and when Eddie lets his chin drop gently against your shoulder, your cheeks heat despite yourself. "You n' your uncle. See? It's gonna say 'Munson' in the middle. And I'm puttin' sunflowers on account of the ones growin' on your side of the fence." You turn your face toward him but can't see much more besides the curve of his cheek and the pink of his lips, which look, unfortunately, very kissable right now. You glance away and lean your temple against his instead to avoid temptation. "What's your favorite flower, Ed?"

You can feel the stretch of Eddie's smile in the subtle shifting of the skin at his temple before he turns his head to face you. "How are you just the sweetest girl I ever known?" Eddie murmurs against your cheek, kissing you there before leaning back against the wicker couch again, pulling you with him. You sigh, melting into his side. "I dunno," he says offhandedly, his thumb back to trailing along your arm, and you shiver as goosebumps pimple under the scratch of his warm skin. "Always kinda favored chicory flowers. They're like the color of the sky on a clear day. No clouds make the sun brutal while you're workin', but y'can't deny it looks nice like that."

It's quite sentimental coming from your wild best friend, and you stifle a sudden giddy giggle as you pull your bare feet up onto the cushion, tucking your knees beneath your skirt, which brushes low on your ankles as you fold up. "What?" Eddie snaps playfully. "Y'ask me what flower I like the best and then y'laugh at my answer?" His breath huffs indignantly against your shoulder. "I take it back. You're the yuckiest girl I ever known."

Your giggles spike at that, growing in intensity, which is clearly the opposite of what Eddie wanted because the warmth of his arm withdraws abruptly from around you. "The yuckiest?" you question through your laughter, nose wrinkled skeptically. "What're you, twelve?"

You twist to face him, and as you do, Eddie's fingers ghost loosely along your shoulder, brushing to remove some invisible dust as the sour pucker of his lips draws into a smirk. His brown eyes glint with a sudden spark. "I think you know quite well I'm not no twelve-year-old anymore, turtle dove," he murmurs, and the sensual timbre of his voice conjures a spark of heat that makes your thighs press together beneath your dress.

"I don't hear no readin' out there. What are you two schemin' up now?" Your Mama's voice calling from beyond the window screen right behind the couch, harsh from shrillness and warning but not outright angry, has you immediately springing apart and scrambling to take your activities back up— Eddie, the neglected book discarded against the wicker arm, and you, the neglected needle dangling from your embroidery hoop.

You hear the creak of the front door not long after, which Mama pushes open with one ample hip, searching with her foot for the step down she knows is there but can't see due to the heavy load of laundry in her arms. It's mounded in a large wire basket, and an occasional drop of water splatters to the wooden porch as she finds her footing and steps down.

Eddie is suddenly a flurry of activity beside you— the book thumps discarded onto your thigh as he clambers up off the couch with an offer spilling eagerly from his lips. "Here, let me—"

He takes the loaded basket from your mother's arms, ignoring her hems and haws of polite protest. He bounds down off the porch, leaving her with a faint smile of gratitude as he strides briskly toward the laundry line to the side of the porch.

Your Mama's voice draws your attention from his lanky form as she addresses you, saying, "I need you to go to the store for me this afternoon; fetch me a few things."

You're nodding before she's even finished speaking. "Of course, mama," you reply dutifully. "I'd be happy to. Just tell me what you need."

Her approval, clear in the softening of the crows' feet beside her eyes, brings you sweet nourishment. "Thank you, dear. I'll make you up a list—"

"Oh!" Eddie's quick interjection draws both your eyes— hers hawkish, yours doe-like. He plops the wire basket of laundry in the grass beside the clothesline and toddles over, ducking his shoulders to the side, brows tugged up innocently as he looks at your Mama. "You know," he says, "my uncle's been needing a few things from the general store, too." He glances from her to you and then back. "Maybe y/n and I could go together? Use his handcart for the flour sack?"

Eddie shoots your Mama another one of his award-winning smiles, and while she doesn't quite melt like butter— not in the way you do— you soon find yourself mosying down that dirt path, dragging the handcart behind you, paper list clutched in your fingers as Eddie whistles your way into town.

A scant few hours later, you're walking back down that path in the opposite direction, handcart filled with the spoils of your bounty, your apron pockets newly laden too. In town, you'd checked down Mama's list one by one: purchased some meats from the butcher, then canned vegetables, a sack of flour and a smaller sack of sugar at the general store, plus some laundry soap to replenish what had been used up today and some chewing tobacco for Wayne. Eddie had, in fact, stretched the truth in saying that Wayne had been aiming to go to the general store too, but you couldn't begrudge him the fib.

It wasn't the only thing he'd fibbed about, too. Rather than using the handcart to tow the heavy bag of flour, Eddie had very adamantly insisted on loading all the smaller purchases in there so you didn't have to carry them, hefting the heavy sack onto one shoulder with ease. You can't deny that the display of strength— his bicep flexed, one ruddy hand holding it in place, but his expression showing no sign of strain as he lopes easily in stride with you— sent a stirring straight to the deepest parts of your belly. And your best friend seems to know it, too; when you cast him a glance laden with the honey of your want, he smirks back at you, preening at the sight of your appreciation, though a bashful blush also dusts his nose.

Soon enough, your familiar blue and red houses loom back into view, and the rusty metal frame of the handcart squeaks its way along as it trails behind you. As you tromp up the path to your home, dropping the handle of the handcart and snatching up the perishable paper sachets of meat as you mount the stairs, Eddie follows you with the flour bag. He's still whistling like he had when you'd first left, none the worse for wear after walking and shopping and hauling that heavy sack all the way back home for you.

You meet your Mama in the dining room where she's polishing the silver— spoons, knives, and forks are all laid out in orderly rows on the tablecloth, and her eyes widen with brief surprise when she sees how Eddie has the flour bag slung over his shoulder. "Where d'you want this, ma'am?" he asks politely.

"In the pantry— just through here. The door's on your left."

Eddie disappears through the archway, and your Mama rises from the dining room table to assess the meats you'd bought, nodding in approval as she takes them from you to put in the icebox. You bring in the other items, depositing them into their rightful places to another approving nod from your mother.

"You did good," she says. "Both of you."

Before she can return to cleaning the silver, you dig in your apron pocket for the purchase that you're most excited to show her. You smile as your fingertips skim silk, but you reach past it, seeking the three round disks instead and pulling them out to spread in your palm and show her.

Your last stop in town had been to the tailor's, where you searched for a button to repair the one missing on Mama's favorite house dress. You'd been disappointed not to find a perfect match for the original buttons, but since they were just a few cents each, you'd decided to buy enough to replace all of Mama's buttons. You pull them out and show them to her, face bright with innocent pleasure.

"I got you these, Mama. They were just a few cents each from my allowance," you tell her. "I know you were real sad when you lost the button off your dress, so I was thinkin' I could sew them on for you. And I got enough to make 'em all match, too."

You can feel Eddie's heavy footsteps stop right beside you, but you only have eyes for Mama— your Mama, whose face has crumpled in a rare show of sentimentality. "Why, y/n!" Your name comes out in a hush of awed breath, soft as the silk in your apron pocket. "That's very sweet of you, honey. You din't have to do that."

"I wanted to," you assure her genuinely, and the brush of Eddie's hot elbow against your arm, which lingers long enough to let you know it wasn't accidental, pleases you just as much as the affection on your Mama's face.

"Ma'am?"

Mama glances from the buttons on your open palm toward Eddie, her face smooth and unburdened as he continues somewhat hesitantly, "I'm not presumin' to know what you have planned for the afternoon, but I was wonderin' if it would be possible for y/n to come with me on a quick ride?"

When she merely stares at him without replying— not shutting him down, but not encouraging him either— Eddie stuffs his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels as he continues quickly. "Jonathan Byers told me there's a field bloomin' full of wildflowers still this late in the season. Said he happened upon it just this week. And I was thinkin' maybe she'd like to see it, considerin' how she really likes flowers."

You blink at Eddie, noting the cautious optimism on his face. You wonder if he knows it's a bold request— asking you to go out after reading with you all morning, not to mention alone and unaccompanied. And you think, judging by the way his eyes crinkle just slightly in a subtle wince, maybe he does, though you aren't sure that wince would be noticeable to anyone but you, who has gazed at your best friend's face more often than anyone in the world, except perhaps Wayne.

It's a bold request— bordering on too bold if you had to make a supposition. Yet, now that the question has been asked, it cannot be swallowed back up again.

Mama's face hasn't quite soured, though it has lost some of that warmth from a moment ago as her discerning eyes scan first Eddie's face and then yours. And as her words echo in your head— 'Y'aren't to go off with the Munson boy anymore; it's not proper at your grown age'— you anticipate the same sentiment to fall from her thin lips.

Your Mama offers the second surprise of the day.

"One hour," she says, brows raised nearly to her hairline as she levels you with a loaded look. "Go'n visit the flower field and come straight back. No dawdlin’, no galavantin’. You hear?"

The shock that races through you is rivaled only by a sharp welling-up of giddiness that you fight valiantly to keep from showing on your face. "Yes, Mama," you reply obediently, managing to keep that quivering excitement from leaking into your voice. "I promise. I won't even take Guinnie so's to save time. I'll just grab my bloomers." You glance at Eddie, and it's much harder not to react when you see the eager sparkle in his eye, the one he can't quite stifle even in your mother's presence. Your suggestion comes out in a rush of words, bending up at the end like a question. "Go'n get Merlin ready, 'n I'll meet you by the truck?"

You want to run, to race up the stairs to your room, rip on your bloomers, and fling yourself from the window in your impatience to reach the ground. You're able to contain the impulse long enough to see Eddie jerk his chin in a nod before you turn away, lifting each foot and setting it down deliberately, walking with measured steps toward the staircase. But once they're out of sight— once you've let Mama and Eddie slip from view behind the wall and placed the first foot upon the bottom step— you can't quite keep a giggle of utter delight from slipping out as you abandon the pretense of calm and rush up to your room.

Merlin's hooves thump softly as he treads over grass and dirt, and your hips sway in time with his haunches as you lean against the broad, strong back of your best friend, cheek pressed to the linen of his shirt. It's warmer now than it had been on the walk back from the general store, and that heat is sinking into your muscles as the sun glows upon the top of your head, turning your eyes heavy and your body languid aside from the grip you have on Eddie. Your arms are wrapped snugly around his middle, your hands locked around your forearms, and his arm is tangled up between. Eddie's skin is a little rougher than yours, his arm hairier, and his hand calloused and dry and practically burning hot, but it's a welcome contrast. There's something about the way Eddie has wedged it between yours as if to ensure you won't let go of him, something that makes a certain feeling stretch and curl around your ribs and sternum, nuzzling the same way your cheek does against the plane of his shoulder— affectionate, appreciative. Content.

You're content to hold Eddie and let him guide you, eyes closed as Merlin continues at a gentle trot until a potent aroma hits you. It's the soothing comfort of honeysuckle and the untamed spirit of milkweed, mingling like a melody of sweet and earthy notes that dance in the air.

You've arrived.

It's as your eyes pop eagerly open that Eddie pulls back on Merlin's reigns, and the muscles of his back roll against your breasts, flexing in a way that is unintentionally erotic. You feel a pulse of heat low in your belly, but Eddie remains ignorant of your reaction. As Merlin slows to a halt, he swings himself down without hesitation, looking up to offer you a hand, unaware of how the sudden loss of his warm strength leaves you almost bereft. Still, you let him help you down, and momentarily, the allure of his closeness is superseded by the allure of the place he's brought you to. Your breath catches in your chest at the sight of the field, which is somehow more stunning than you had expected it to be.

The gold of black-eyed susans and the pale sun of yellow coneflowers mix with the purples and blues of wild indigo and ironweed; soft white milkweed floats like clouds among the tall grasses and ferns, and cardinal flowers dot amongst them like tiny spots of flame. The air is thick with the gentle hum of bees and the chirping of crickets nestled within the foliage, and the field is surrounded by a thick copse of shadowy elm and hickory trees. All of the landscape is bathed in the deepening orange of the setting sun, casting the landscape in a warm glow that seems to both deepen and enervate its wild beauty.

As the wind picks up, the sea of wildflowers ripples like a living, breathing organism, swaying as one, beckoning you and Eddie with its dance. And you accept its offer; you cast a smile overflowing with joy toward Eddie, and without any further fuss, you plunge into that living sea.

As you make your way through, the gentle swaying of the plants brushes against your bare ankles, rustling and catching on the fabric of your skirt and apron. You let your fingertips trail along velvety petals and ticklish grass, feet sinking into the soft earth still warm from the heat of the day as you trail a meandering path through the foliage. You are aimless in your destination, drawn by the beauty of the field you're bathing in, until, on a whim, you stop, spinning on your heel to find Eddie only a few steps behind you. The grasses of the field part like water to make room for him beside you.

Your earlier excitement has simmered to deep affection, sticky and thick like honey as the setting sun glints in Eddie's umber eyes, lightening his curls to deep caramel. "Ed," you murmur softly, "thank you for bringing me here." You suck your bottom lip into your mouth as he draws closer until his scent mixes with the sweetness of the sea surrounding you both: the warm smoke of tobacco, the brightness of laundry powder, the musk of a summer storm.

"'Course, turtle dove," he murmurs, and it's curious that you're both speaking quietly despite being the only ones here, as if afraid the sudden sharp sound of your voices will wake you from a pleasant dream. Eddie ducks his chin, peering at you from behind the curls that slip past his ear to drape near his cheek. "I'd hoped you'd like it."

"Of course I like it," you reply, half-exasperated but still soft. "This is… well, this is the prettiest thing I've ever seen, I think."

Eddie doesn't reply; instead, he drifts closer until you can feel the heat of his body against the peaks of your breasts and the brush of his linen shirt against your apron. He reaches out, and you think those long fingers will wrap around your hip or sink into the curve of your waist, caressing you softly. But they don't. Instead, they dip into the pocket of your apron, seeking the item still left inside— the one the tips of your fingers grazed when you searched for the new buttons you'd purchased for your Mama. And you watch Eddie pull out a line of silk, which unravels to spill open from its roll.

While you'd perused the buttons at the tailor's shop, Eddie had drawn his calloused fingers through the display of hair ribbons near the counter. He'd skipped over waxy pinks and cloying yellows, lingering longer while considering deep amethysts and verdant greens. In the end, though, he'd chosen white— shiny white like a dove's feather. "So you can wear it anytime you want," he reasoned when he presented it to you, "'n you don't have to fuss over whether it matches your dress or whatever silly nonsense you women worry about." He'd grinned wide when you smacked him lightly for that remark before rolling the ribbon carefully up and slipping it into your apron pocket to join your own purchase.

Eddie's fingers are long and ruddy, cracked and calloused; his palms are dry, broad, and strong, accustomed to brutish work and the roughness required of a man of his trade. Yet when he reaches behind your neck, fitting the cool silk of the ribbon against the nape before drawing the sides carefully forward to wrap around your throat, his touch is as gentle as the brush of fuzzy down against your delicate skin. His tongue peeks pink between his lips as he slowly and carefully ties the ribbon into a bow, tightening it just enough to keep it snug without it pinching you too tightly. You hold your breath as he adjusts the loops, eyes locked on your neck until his hands drop and that umber darts up to meet yours.

A corner of Eddie's lips crooks in a lopsided smile, and one of his dimples comes out to greet you. "You're pretty," he tells you, and you flood with more of that sticky-sweet honey as you brush your thumbs against his jaw, fingers splaying over his cheekbones to pull him into a gentle kiss.

When you break from his lips, what happens next becomes an inevitability.

Eddie avoids the spiky petals of black-eyed susans as he draws you down to the grass, his lanky limbs nestling into the colorful sea. He settles you on top of him, and your knees press into the warm earth as he gathers your long skirt in his hands and you pull his shirt hem from his shorts, pushing it up his belly to reveal the divet of his belly button and the dark hair that trails downward to lead below his waistband. You work the button open unhurriedly as he searches for your skin beneath your dress, grunting as he encounters your bloomers. You breathe a chuckle as he pulls them down sloppily, releasing his pants to help him; he helps you in turn until your undergarments are finally discarded in the tall grass beside you, and his are pushed down far enough to reveal the semi-hardness of his thick length, which lazes comfortably against his abdomen. As you finally settle down on him, hot skin against hot skin, Eddie cups your face to pull you into a kiss.

Eddie's kisses are deep, warm, and wet, drawing you into him until between your legs beats in time with your heart. Your hips begin to shift against him, seeking friction to relieve the ache, and as your arousal increases, so do your kisses grow more frantic— sloppier, less careful, more needful. He bucks up into you, swallowing your slight whimper as his hands snake beneath your skirt that has fanned to cover your lower halves, skimming up your thighs to take firm hold of your hips. He maneuvers you slightly until his hardness slots right into the slippery heat of your lips, his erection pressed flat against his belly as he grinds you down onto himself.

A haze of desire blankets you as you move atop Eddie in the grass; your mind creeps with it, fogging until there's nothing but the feeling of his body, solid and warm beneath you, and his lips, firm and soft against your mouth. You move by instinct, rolling your hips until you're moving yourself equally as much as he's moving you. Your hands seek his curls, burying just above his ears as you grind down on his cock until you're writhing, whimpering, leaking, cream easing that slide and dripping down to coat his balls.

The ache inside you that was sated by the feeling of Eddie's hardness against your heated flesh returns, insisting that you be filled. You drop staccato kisses to Eddie's lips before leveraging against his ribs to kneel up straight, gathering your skirt and apron in hasty hands to reveal the place where you will soon be joined. You lift your ass as Eddie grasps himself, fitting the fat head of his cock between your sticky lips; you shift until it stops bumping against you and instead nudges slightly inside where it belongs.

When you sink down onto him, and Eddie stretches you open this second time, it doesn't hurt as much as the first, whether because you've already experienced this or because you're distracted by how his face contorts with the pleasure of feeling you engulf him. There's still a pinch, but it's expected now; and as you fall flush with his pelvis, you only pause briefly before you begin to move again with him now inside you.

You don't move expertly, far from it, but you allow instinct to continue guiding you. Your thighs cradle Eddie's hips as you begin to rock gently together, the mutual sounds of pleasure mingling to join the chorus of nature around you. You're enjoying the sight of him below you when he wraps his arms around your back, drawing you down flat against his chest as he takes over moving for you, pumping his hips up into you. Due to the angle, his movements are slight but still pleasant, and you enjoy the way he can now lavish you with kisses— brief tender pecks that land on your nose, your cheeks, the corners of your lips, your chin. Eddie kisses anywhere he can reach, picking up speed until you're giggling, and then he smiles, eyes crinkling with the force of his delight at your happiness. You return the gesture, pressing your hands against his ears to keep him still so you can pepper him with affection until he's giggling too.

"Don't eat me up," he teases you, gently pulling your hands from his ears and weaving your fingers with his.

"You're the one eatin' me up, Ed!" you return playfully, and he hums as he draws your hands toward his face. He kisses each finger, umber eyes locked unwaveringly on yours, and your chest stirs with tenderness at the gesture; he presses his hands into the grass near his ears, shifting you with him to lean forward.

"Use me," he murmurs, his voice a sensual hum. "Press down on my hands."

You follow his direction, using the leverage to lift yourself so you can move more boldly on top of him. As you do, you watch the pleasure begin to grow on Eddie's face— the crease of his brow, the haziness of his eyes, the flush spreading on his cheeks and throat, the plush pink of his lips that pucker around white teeth as he bites the bottom one, earnest and wanting as he stares at your face. The signs of his pleasure increase yours, as does the rocking of his hard cock snug inside your tight heat, a combination that soon has you panting, your head lolling loosely as you look down at him. Eddie's abundant curls are splayed across grass and flowers, dark tendrils that paint the yellows and blues and purples with a spillage of beautiful ink. The skin of his face and neck is pale as it always is but sun-kissed in the late summer, freckled from days spent working the fields. The sight of your best friend beneath you increases that tingling and throbbing between your hips, and with it, the movement you can manage in this position is soon no longer enough to satisfy you.

You pull your fingers from Eddie's grip so you can brace your hands on his chest instead, leveraging a new angle that has your hips rolling snugger against his. An eager groan rumbles in his throat and pushes through those plump lips, and Eddie's fingers plunge beneath your skirt to take hold of your thighs, squeezing restlessly as you rock on him. "That feel good, Ed?" you ask, voice quiet and high but hoarsened with need.

"Yeah, baby," Eddie rasps, "feels— feels so good—"

Your pussy flutters at the praise, and Eddie grunts, eyes widening in surprise as he blurts, "Oh, fuck me, you're— shit—"

"Mmm—" The filthiness of Eddie's mouth makes you moan, whiny and pathetic, and you try to stifle the sound behind a bitten lip.

Immediately, his hand leaves your thigh to find your mouth as he hisses, "No, sweetheart, let me hear you— wanna hear you."

His thumb presses insistently on the plump of your bottom lip until you release it, and he rewards you by caressing that rough pad sensually across its softness. You whimper again, and the sound passes high and sweet through the open seam of your lips as he drags the bottom one down, his index finger pressing under your chin to keep you where he wants you. You rock your hips a little faster as you watch him stare at your mouth, his eyes hazy and deep, almost hypnotized, as he plays with your lip. The movement of his thumb remains languid, slow and meandering. That is, until it wanders almost incidentally past your teeth to press lightly against your tongue.

Whether it's the unexpectedness of the action or the fact that you can feel him inside you in two places now instead of one, the feeling of Eddie's calloused thumb against your tongue makes you moan and shiver with an acute burst of pleasure. Almost instinctively, your lips close around it, cheeks hollowing slightly as you suck; you watch Eddie's eyes widen, pupils visibly blowing as you wrap a hand around his wrist, holding him there so you can suck on his thumb as you ride him. He moans, voice higher and hoarser than before, more breathy and uncontrolled; the sound spurs you on until you're rocking harder, mindlessly obeying your body, behaving the way it wants to behave. And your body wants you to suck on Eddie's thumb, to move until you're bouncing slightly on his cock, ass slapping rhythmically against his thighs as he gasps and stutters, "Holy— that's it, please— please d-don't stop, sweetheart, don't stop—"

And you've only lain with a man once, but the way Eddie's fingers are digging into your hip; the way his hand pinches your chin as you suck and lave his thumb; the way the tendons stand stark from the flushed, mottled skin of his throat, the way the rapid rise and fall of his chest has begun to deepen— they tell you what all women know as their men's pleasure begins to tip toward inevitability. You whimper, your own pleasure flaring at the knowledge of what's approaching, and the sound is muffled around Eddie's skin; you pull Eddie's thumb from your mouth, nuzzling against his knuckles and ignoring the fatigue in your thighs and hips as you say his name. "Eddie," you call, sweet and needy, your yearning evident in the honey that drips from your tongue. "Eddie, please, I want you."

It's a vague request borne of shyness, but Eddie knows what you mean. "You want my seed again, y/n?" he husks, voice hoarsened with desire for you, for what you request of him. "You want me to empty inside you?"

"Yes, yes—" your reply is a rapturous sigh of deep wanting; when he hears it, Eddie huffs harshly, rutting up into you in time with your bouncing once, twice, and then again—

And the inevitability comes to pass.

Eddie pulls his fingers from your grasp to squeeze your hips with both hands; he presses you down hard onto his cock as it jumps and pulses inside you. You hear him moan, the sound hoarse and high, and you sing along with him, sweet sounds of satisfaction that only subside once the warm flood of his cum has coated you entirely inside and the tensing of his muscles has relaxed to leave him a boneless heap beneath you. You lean forward hastily, hands dragging up his shirt to fist in the collar; instantly, as if he is of the same mind, Eddie's broad palms drag from your hips up your back to tangle in your hair.

And then you're kissing him desperately.

His still-hard cock slips out slightly as he hauls you against him, and you feel the leakage of his seed as it spills from your pussy to coat his balls, but neither of you care. You kiss Eddie, and he kisses you, hungry for the intimacy felt in the caress of one another's lips, the drag of one another's tongues, the sweetness of one another's breaths that slip into your lungs.

You and Eddie kiss until the fervency of your shared desire dips like the waning sun into gentle affection again. You notice that the light around you is dim as you calm; the sky has sunk past orange and blue to deep violet and pink, the oaks and hickories now nothing but shadows, signaling that it's time to return home.

Now that you're both sated, Eddie presses a chapped kiss to your forehead before releasing you from the welcome cage of his arms. And when you finally rise together, looking down at the place you'd chosen to express your devotion, the imprint in the crushed flowers forms the shape of a single body— as if you and Eddie have become one person, forever connected, eternally entwined.

Eddie Munson never does anything by half.

Now that he'd discovered what acts of service would afford him with your parents, for the next week, he makes himself quite abundant. You begin to predict the sight of those dark curls bobbing towards you from next door in the late morning or afternoon, brown eyes alert and hands ready to assist. When he's finished with the tasks around his own farm, like aiding Wayne in irrigating and fertilizing the corn fields or mucking out the stalls for Merlin and his uncle's horse Sally, he'll toe off his loafers on the front door mat and poke his soft nose around the corner of the foyer wall, seeking for somewhere he might be needed. In the past four days, Eddie has repaired the bottom step of the staircase, the one that always creaked so loud no matter how gently you stepped on it; tightened the joists on the banister to stop it from wobbling; patched and painted the wall where Pa'd cracked the plaster slamming the back door open too hard; and hung the mirror that had been propped in the corner of your bedroom since you'd brought it home since Pa'd gotten too busy to do it for you. Mama hovers in the doorway, watching like a hawk as Eddie works in your bedroom, her body half-shielding yours behind her, though the gesture feels less like protection and more like a boundary you cannot cross. But Eddie just measures, carefully hammers in the nail, and grunts when he lifts the heavy iron frame; he steps back, squaring his fingers and squinting as his tongue pokes between his lips. After a brief perusal, he drops his hands and expression, seemingly satisfied, as he turns towards you two to gauge your assessment.

You beam brightly at him from behind your mother's shoulder, and it doesn't take too long for Mama to nod. "Looks good there," she says, warmer than you've ever heard her when speaking to or about your best friend. "Thank you, Edward."

"It's no trouble, ma'am," he replies, and the look of pride— the gentle pleasure that blooms across his face to hear your mother's approval— just makes you sink that much farther into the depth of your feeling for him.

If Mama suspects or questions why Eddie has been so helpful the past week, she doesn't share her concerns with you; and once she's voiced her thanks so explicitly, Eddie turns his attention toward slaying his next dragon.

It's about a week after you'd read together on the porch that he finds his chance. You're in the goat pen, refilling the metal trough with water from the well while your father works in the field beyond. "I know," you murmur consolingly to the gray-furred kid hiding behind your legs. He's cowering, eyes rolling, his small mouth open in a near-continuous bleat drowned by the growl of the tractor. "I know you don't like the sound. I'm sorry."

Your words do little to quell his distress; as you finish pouring the water from your bucket into the trough, he doesn't move to join the others, standing with his legs splayed wide and his back arched. He bleats and cries incessantly, staggering after you a few steps when you begin to drift toward the gate. "Okay, okay," you say, your sympathy for the animal winning out against your desire to keep busy lest you face your Mama's reprimand for idling.

Abruptly, the aggressive growl of the tractor subsides to a puttering hum and then, shortly, to silence. You glance toward the expansive field to find it all shorn now, the hay cut to flat and dry before it can be rolled into bales next week. You watch your father hop down from the tractor, his face contorted in a wince as the smallest goat in the pen continues bleating despite the lack of noise from the tractor. Where your Mama is short and ample, your Pa towers tall and narrow, stretched out like a beanstalk, with wiry limbs and a tightness about his manner that manifests in severe lines around his mouth and across his brow.

"That damn bleating's drivin' me up the wall," your Pa grouses. "Kid's 'bout to get tossed in the crik if it doesn't stop that infernal noise-making."

Your voice bends up imploringly, distress clenching in your chest at the idea. "He's just scared o'the tractor, Pa. He can't help it." He scowls, but his rebuttal is interrupted when Eddie appears from alongside your house, heading straight for you both. You and your father look at him, and your eyes rove over his form— he's dressed in overalls, his pale skin shiny with sweat and ruddy from the heat, though it hasn't dulled the warm umber of his eyes.

"Hi, Ed," you greet him, the cloud of your worry broken up by the brightness of his sudden appearance.

"Afternoon," he greets you both, flicking his sodden bangs out of his eyes with a jerk of his head. "Been fixin' up my uncle's fence on the far side opposite your property," he explains, gaze locked on your Pa, "and I've got some leftover planks. Was thinkin' maybe you'd like me to replace some o'your oldest ones. It wouldn't be any trouble."

Your father pulls off his cap and rubs the sweat roughly from his weathered forehead. His brows flash as he fits it back on smartly, and his voice is much less gruff than before as he replies, "Well, if you're inclined to spend your afternoon workin' on my fence, Edward, I certainly wouldn't stop you."

Eddie nods, sweaty curls bobbing as he stuffs his hands into his overall pockets. You can tell he's trying not to look too chuffed, but the dimple at the corner of his mouth betrays how much he's pleased with your father's answer. "Happy to hear that, sir," he says, and his gaze quickly flashes to you and back. "I'll grab the boards and such. Be back over in a jiff."

Your Pa nods and watches him leave; once he's gone, both pairs of eyes, father and daughter, turn back to the kid, who has wedged himself between the wooden shelter and the wire fence of the pen, disinterested in food or drink. He's still bleating, though not quite as loudly now, but the way your father's eyes narrow at the sound of his pitiful cries has that anxiousness crawling up your throat again. "Pa," you say cautiously, chewing your bottom lip as a vein twitches in his narrow forehead. "I'm sure he'll quiet down soo—"

Before you can even finish the sentence, your father has stalked forward, snatching up the struggling kid in a splay of kicking legs. "No, Pa," you whimper, earnest in your protest but half-hearted in your delivery as that anxiety condenses to a thick lump at the base of your throat. "Please don't throw him in the crik; he's just a baby."

Pa rounds on you, eyes steely, brow furrowed deeply with consternation and stress. "I told you, y/n. It's been days of this now, and I can't abide it no more."

Your lip wobbles as you stand there, watching helplessly as he maneuvers around the other goats in the enclosure, heading towards the fence.

It's when he's almost reached the gate that Eddie turns the corner of the house again, carrying a few boards under one arm and jingling with each step as the nails in his overall pocket sing to announce his arrival. Pa halts just at the edge of the goat pen as Eddie looks up, his face instantly creasing with confusion and concern as he takes in the sight before him: your father, holding a struggling, bleating kid, scowling down at the gate that he can't open with his hands occupied as they are, and you, wringing your hands behind him, shoulders drawn up and eyes big and wet, very clearly distressed.

"Boy—" Pa jerks his chin at Eddie, motioning toward the gate with his elbow. "Help me get this open so I can be rid of this infernal racket once and for all."

Eddie lowers the boards to the grass, and while he doesn't dare disobey your father's command, you can see from how his eyes dart that he's thinking quickly. "He been cryin' long?" Eddie asks casually.

"Been days now, ever since I started up with the tractor to prepare for harvest," your father grunts. Eddie nods slowly, eyes tracking the kid's knobby legs as they swing wildly. You watch with bated breath as his brow furrows; slowly, so as not to spook the animal further, Eddie reaches out and gently wraps his ruddy fingers around the kid's front left leg. Impatience leaks in a growl from your father's mouth. "What're y'doin', Edward? Open the damn gate."

He says Eddie's name like a warning, and your heart leaps in your chest, but Eddie merely peers closely at the hoof for the briefest moment before letting the animal quickly go. And had it not been for the earnest seriousness in his voice as he meets Pa's eye calmly, the question Eddie asks next would have made you faint.

"If I can make him quiet, sir, would you still wanna throw him in that creek?"

The goat is still struggling in your father's hold as he squints at Eddie for a moment, his expression half-contorted as if he's undecided about whether to tell him off. Your heart thumps hard, your sweaty fingers wringing as the two men face one another— your father is nearly a head taller than your best friend, but Eddie doesn't cow to the intensity of his stare. Instead, he stands tall, shoulders solid and proud but brow unfurrowed. Not defiant. Just not acquiescent, either.

Rather than replying, your father merely steps back and drops the kid to its feet, not altogether kindly. He wrenches the gate open himself, stalking through and slamming it behind him; it bounces back open, and you rush forward to block the exit as he heads straight for the house.

His shout carries back to you, crisp on the wind. "If it ain't quiet by the time I'm back, I won't bother with the crik. I'll just wring its scrawny neck."

And with that, he disappears into the house, the screen door slapping shut behind him.

Now alone, you and Eddie meet eyes, but there is no secret smoldering or shy smiles now. Instead, Eddie slips into the pen, brown eyes wide and solemn as he crouches to his knees in the dirt. "It's okay, little fella," he murmurs, one calloused finger stroking lightly between the kid's horns. "We're gonna help you feel better."

"What's wrong with him, Ed?" you ask, shaky with adrenaline and distress as you see Eddie pull a small penknife from his overall pocket.

"Don't worry, turtle dove." Eddie's voice is just as gentle as he looks up at you, and the soft kindness there makes you want to snatch up his face and press kiss after kiss to his lips. "He's just got a rock stuck in his hoof. That's all."

Your breath shudders out shakily as you watch Eddie take hold of the goat's leg, moving slowly and surely so as not to startle him. It squeaks out another sharp sound as he lifts its hoof; the kid's leg bends at the knee as it wavers slightly while trying to balance on its other hooves.

But when it comes down to it, the whole affair is really quite quick work. Eddie works the penknife carefully between the stone and the horn of the goat's hoof, jimmying it slightly until the object comes loose and falls to the dirt near his knee. He drops the kid's leg, and immediately it backs up, scuffing its other hoof against the ground in agitation.

Eddie is unbothered by its display of hostility. "There ya go." He picks up the small rock, tossing it out of the pen to land softly in the grass beyond. "Now you'll feel much better."

A potent mixture of relief, guilt, and gratefulness fills you as the kid falls finally silent. Relief that he'd be okay now. Guilt that you hadn't thought to check for another explanation for his bleating. But strongest of all is gratefulness— gratefulness that Eddie was able to stand up to your father when you cowered away.

"Thank you," you say, soft and sweet as you gaze into Eddie's umber eyes.

"No trouble, y/n," Eddie replies, his lips tilting with a lopsided smile, one cheek dimpling with the fondness of it.

For a moment, you gaze at that familiar pale face framed by dark, sweaty curls. The face of your best friend, the person you adore most in this world, whose wild restlessness— the fervency of it— is rivaled only by the depth of his care for you and the kindness that leaks obstinately through despite the world's attempt to stifle it.

You gaze at Eddie, at the face you've known for ten years. And in that moment, you realize that you love him.

In your backyard, standing in the goat pen, you swallow thick, welling with love for Eddie Munson. But you are unsafe from prying eyes that may be peering through the kitchen curtain; your voice is silenced by the threat of that screen door swinging open unexpectedly. So you do the only thing you can think of to show Eddie that you've realized you love him.

You brush the dirt off his knees, swiping the dark earth away with patience and diligence until the soft denim is clear blue again.

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katsukikitten · 2 years

Text

Synopsis: A pretty girl like you had lead a life so boring that at 25 you're feeling far too restless. Letting your friends decide what exactly you should do to shake up the monotony in your life, one of them suggests a piercing. Not just an piercing, a tongue piercing. Nervously researching for months until you find the perfect tattoo parlor co owned by Sero Hanta and Bakugou Katsuki. Will this piecing finally bring color back to your gray life or will it make you hate the color red?

Warnings : piercings bb, so needles etc.

AN : this was an idea born in DMS that went straight off the dome in drafts posted HERE and I added another part and though fuck it make it a fic. wc3512

To say you weren't nervous would be a bold face fucking lie. Almost shaking as you sit on a table in a back room of Spit Ink while the hottest, and meanest, looking piercer gathers together the tools needed for your piercing.

Your tongue piercing.

The one that's supposed to help shake up your boring drab as fuck life.

Nails biting into the cushy and clean pleather seat as the male five years your senior looms over you.

You have to have your tongue lolled out for him to work so he can hold it in place with a tool but as he's about to grab the wet muscle he notices the way it quivers and shakes and for the first fucking time he's having a nasty thought about a client, about his cum hitting your tongue and mixing with your spit that starts to pool onto the sanitary paper bib he put on to catch the blood and drool.

"Bakugou?" His assistant calls him, pulling him out of his stupor. With a growl he grabs onto your shaking tongue and tries to swallow desire whole from the pretty groan you make.

Instead he chokes on it

It doesn't help how your tongue swirls around his cherry flavored gloves as he checks his work, making sure the piercing is in there correctly and that the bar is long enough for the inevitable swelling. Digits still in your mouth as he starts his lecture that most people ignore but your eyes were trained on him.

Hanging on every word

"It's gonna hurt and it's gonna fuckin swell for the next five days. Don't call us crying about it and if your think it's infected go to the fuckin doctor. Drink cold liquids, rinse with saline or salt water or alcohol free wash after every fucking meal. That means, snacks too dipshit, until it's healed. No licking random shit, no kissing and " he removes his fingers and grabs your chin, something he definitely doesn't normally do, keeping your gaze with his own intense crimson, "No oral."

"Got it?" He lets go and you nod quickly. Eagerly as he can feel your need for praise and approval seep off of you. With his assistant out of the room now he gives a wolfish grin.

"Good girl." He watches your thighs rub together and his cock twitches from pegging you right. He gives his back to you for now to wash his hands like the sis before.

"Um, do-" you clear your throat, "Do you do nipple piercings too?"

That wolfish grin curls up on his face again as he looks you over his shoulder and blatantly stares at your chest.

"I do everything."

You don't let too much time pass before you find yourself in the presence of Bakugou again. His large tattooed hands slipping into those cherry flavored gloves and it makes you salivate. It’s just him today, no red headed assistant as he gathers his things together, he glances over his shoulder and gives a vicious smirk.

“Yer tits still aren’t out?” The question makes you choke, it was stupid to be shy about taking them out when he would obviously have to see them to send the needle through and then thread in the bar.

Still your fingers shake as you grab onto the top of your dress. Easing it down the mound of your breasts and the weight of them being pressed by the ruched fabric closer to your chest makes them bounce.

Bakugou bites the inside of his lip with his modded canine. It digs too deep into the soft flesh and he laps at the sudden copper taste. Your tits were perfect, everything about them sent him into frenzied thoughts. Of them in his hands, of how soft they’d feel in his large palm, pinching at your nipples to make them hard.

But he didn’t have to, the peaks were already stiffening due to the cold air of the private piercing room. He travels up your tits to see you worrying your lip between your teeth, eyes downcast and he swallows thickly. Your meek expression has his cock twitching in his pants and all he can think about is all of the ways he’s going to ruin you.

Ruin the feel of anyone’s hands on your tits but his own. Anytime someone pawed at your body you’d feel the ghost of his hot palms, pressing and prodding as he molded you as he liked.

Fuck he should not be thinking that right now. He was a professional and he saw pretty tits almost three times a day with no issues before. So why would you, with the perfect sized areola that he could pull into his mouth while his sharp teeth gently scraped at your sensitive bud.

Fuuuuck

He stays quiet now trying to keep a serious expression when really he wants to just look at you. Drink you in and find all of your sensitive spots, he’s about to make your nipples extra sensitive in about five minutes. He wonders if you’ll cum from the pain others have before. Suddenly his ripped skinny jeans grow too tight in the crotch.

He sits on his rolling stool and comes closer to you. Your pretty tits in his face while you sit elevated from him. Corrosive bromine eyes eat at your skin causing a few nervous tremors to rack through your body.

“Ya nervous?” You look up at him and he’s wearing that smile. The one that makes him look like a wolf and you a lamb. Sharp canines are more noticeable while he’s below you like that poking gently into his lip just outside his snake bites. He watches your adam’s apple bob as you gulp audibly.

“A-a little.” You admit and you curl into yourself. As if you could hide away from his perceptive gaze.

“Don’t worry.” He purrs, gently lifting your tits and pushing them together, “I’m the fuckin best.”

He lets them spread to the top of your breast before slowly coming down to your nipples, thumb still hooked under the weight of your pretty tits. You jolt, arching your back and then bucking your hips when he does it again. Letting his fingers graze your nipples with more pressure than before.

“Sensitive.” He purrs and does the action again then again.

It's shameful how your underwear dampens more and more with each passing motion. A harsh squeeze at the fat of your tits before the pressure slowly lets up as he gets to your nipple pinching lightly. Rolling it between his thumb and forefingers. A gasp escapes your plush lips and the sound makes his cock ache. The more he plays with your tits, so slowly and with strong fingers gripping at you, the more your underwear starts to stick to your body.

The more you want to rut your hips and when you try to adjust how you’re sitting your dress rides up, giving him a peek between your thick thighs. Just seeing the damp spot that's growing on your pink underwear.

“So ya like black and pink?”

“Wha-what?”

“Yer underwear, Princess.” He looks down at them again and then back up to hold your doe wide eyes, “Yer showin ‘em off for me.”

“I-I, I’m not meaning to I-”

“I- I-. “ He mocks, “Sure yer not Princess.”

The nickname he’s given you makes you melt, makes you want to act stupid and get it written in his scrawl across your collar bone. Leave it to you to fall in love with the first guy who plays with your tits.

He looks down at the black bars and pink balls he’s got set out for the piercing and pulls his lip into his teeth, debating on if he should throw in a nipple charm for free. It’d look cute as hell and even better if it was in his signature color of red. Deadly smirk grows on his face as he adds the laced red charm that matches the color of his eyes. Hands making quick work of taking the hollow needle and placing the barbell that will be left behind inside your pretty nipple. When he looks up he sees your face drain of color, more than nervous now. You looked ill, like you were about to be sick.

Normally he’d just pierce them while they looked like that, not giving a shit how scared they were, the pain would pull them out of their head but he sets the needle down in the sterile bowl. His hands gripping at your hips and sliding them closer to the edge of the seat. The friction pulls you back into the moment.

“I’ll make it feel good, Princess.” He slides your hips against the seat again. Rolling them roughly as he watches you bite your lip as he sets a quick pace. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as he smirks up at you. He likes the way you squirm, how you place your hands over his but you don’t push away. Even moving along to his movements until your hips start to stutter. You look at him through your long lashes as embarrassed tears threaten to spill.

“So pretty like that.” He purrs, “So fuckin pretty and makin such a mess on my table.”

His eyes flicker between your legs and you see your arousal wetting the paper causing you to mewl loudly. You were so close, thighs spasming as he guided you over the edge. Throwing your head back in pleasure, mouth falling open in a breathy moan and pushing harder at his wrists as he tries to pull another one from you.

“Ya got one more in ya, Princess. I know ya do.” He growls, bruising grip as he presses you harder into the table, “This time lemme see your pretty face.”

Your tits are bouncing from the force he guides you and Bakugou stares at them with pure lust. You keep your eyes glued on him, the coil in your stomach already tightening as he watches the mind numbing pleasure start to rot that gorgeous head of yours.

“Cum.” This time you moan loudly as your body shakes, drooling cunt clenching around nothing desperately as you whimper from the slight overstimulation, “Good girl.”

His praise makes you dizzy as you pull in harsh breaths, shaking from post bliss. He goes to grab the needle with his free hand while the other still holds tightly to your plush hip. Quickly you grab the wrist attached to you. Your skin is clammy on his, tattoos swirling under your palm as you give him a doe eyed look. Was the nervousness back already? He gives a small smile, bringing both hands to squeeze your thick thighs, fingers making divots in your soft skin.

"M right here. It'll feel good. I promise Princess. Don'tchya trust me?"

"Y-yea." A slow nod as you release your knuckle white grip on him. He grinds your hips one more time to watch you squirm and mewl from the overstimulation and to make sure you were still sitting pretty. He keeps his eyes on you for a long moment before going back to your nipple. Passing the needle through the sensitive bud, the pain is so great, so pleasurable it makes you cum. Hard. Grilling at his shoulders and grinding your hips with a loud whine of his name.

"Bakugou." Fuck, you were not making this easy for him. Pretty tits bouncing in his face and suddenly he's imagining what you'll look like sinking down on his cock again. He swallows quickly. Placing on the red laced charm before screwing on the pink balls onto the black bar.

"Takin it so fuckin good." He purrs, leaning over to lay a soft kiss at the fat of your breast. Still a professional in his haze despite having a carnal desire to suck your soft skin and the pretty new metal into his mouth. To lazily lap at with his tongue until you cum loudly for him.

The next one is even more pleasurable, seeing stars as your hips stutter, sharp manicured nails biting into his tattooed shoulders as you whimper. Tears gently falling down your cheeks from how deliciously painful it is.

"Did so well Princess." Bakugou praises and it does nothing to quell your thirst, the throbbing in your nipples is nothing compared to the throbbing in your cunt. Desperately needing to be filled as you think about if he has any piercings of his own.

More than the nipple piercing that peeks out from under his oversized and stretched out muscle t with some heavy rock band on the front. Dermal piercings on his collar bones as well that make you wanna bite the red jewels. The same one that hangs from the charms on your own piercing. He notices you practically eye fucking him and grind.

"I did 'em all myself." Looking you directly in the eye as he palms his fat cock, "Even this one."

When you whimper out loud he laughs, delighting in your needy state. Leaning over to kiss well above your new piercing, this time sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a small mark. You try to keep him there, sharp nails scratching in his pretty ash blonde hair, grazing the undercut as you sigh. He leaves a few more well placed bruises, marking you as his now with both the charms and these little blossoms of color all over your pretty tits. Tracing them with the cool metal ball on his own tongue piercing.

After a few moments he pulls away, scooting back to get a better view of you. He looks over his work but needs just one more thing before he places the bandages over them.

"Stick out your tongue Sweetheart. Lemme see." Slowly you let your tongue hang out. The cherry red barbell ball you picked out is still bright. Your tongue healing beautifully and he really does wish he could use that pouty mouth to ease the ache of his weeping cock.

"Fuck." He growls out, palming himself, "Fuck lemme…"

He trails off, snapping off those bright red gloves and pulling out his phone. He waits until drool is dripping from the point of your wet muscle before he snaps a few pictures. Zooming in to get just your bruised tits and tongue in the picture.

"Perfect." He growls, "So pretty and perfect."

He places another chaste kiss at the tops of your breasts after he places on each bandaid, soothing your whimpers before he pulls up the top of your dress. He stands from his stool below you, offering you his big palm to steady yourself as you step off of the table. You patiently wait for him to give you care instructions as he did last time but instead he rattles off a long number before he makes his way to guide you to the receptionist desk passing you the purse you set down by the door.

"Better hurry up and save that in yer phone." Frantically you dig around your purse for your phone, praying to the gods you remember. Shit did he say five after the four or was it seven. He watches you panic with delight and grabs onto your waist. Squeezing tightly as his gruff voice sends a shiver down your spine.

"It'd be a shame if ya don't save it, then you'd just have to come back and see me."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #piercer bakugou #bakugou smut #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛🖋️#kitten writes bakugou

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