#the curse of pressing buttons too quickly without thought

[sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast]

So apparently Wild ran around Hyrule with zoomies for a week straight and upon stopping to rest at the Gerudo Town cookpot, wound up accidentally sleeping for 2 and a half days.

[imaginedisish]

Liquid Smooth (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Started writing this last night...sooo happy you guys wanted a sex pollen fic! Hope it lives up to everyone's expectations! This one is (obviously) inspired by "Liquid Smooth," by Mitski. ENJOY!

Summary: A simple mission deep in a forest alone with Logan quickly gets out of hand when you just have to go and pick a flower...

Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI! Dry humping, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Sex Pollen (so dub!con just to be safe, but not really), Multiple orgasms, Porn Without Plot...literally, implied!age gap, cursing, friends to lovers, fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,797 muahaha

“I don’t need a goddamn babysitter,” you murmur as Logan thumbs through the controls of the X-Jet. “Could’ve done this by myself.” 

Logan scoffs. “I’m not your babysitter, princess.” You roll your eyes at the nickname Logan has specially reserved just for you. “Charles said we’d be safer going together. He knows you can handle yourself.”

The X-Jet cruises effortlessly through the clouds. The air is still today. Calm. You and Logan are on your way to get some sort of flower that Charles claims to have extensive healing properties. It’s an easy mission. No fighting. No violence. You’re unlikely to have to use your powers at all. And yet, you’ve been paired with Logan. 

It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t—admittedly—a little into him. Or rather, pining after him. There’s just something about the sarcasm that’s always thick in his voice; the way he squeezes himself into those thin beaters. How he’s always so self-assured, so thoroughly convinced he’s right. You just can’t help it. You want him. But he isn’t yours, and he probably never will be. He’s a little older—well, a lot, considering he’s been around forever. And you know it’s safer not to make attachments—not to fall in love.

Unfortunately, it’s a little too late for that. 

But having him here with you now, alone, with no buffers…it’s overwhelming. You can smell him—that mix of tobacco and pine and musk and him. He’s suddenly everywhere, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You watch as his long fingers press different buttons, his hands gripping the steering wheel, adjusting thrusters. You stare at those fingers for far too long, your thoughts drifting to what else he can do with them. You think about him curling them deep inside you, stretching you open and—

“Everything okay?” You snap your head to face Logan, swallowing harshly as his voice pulls you back to reality. 

You force a smile, nodding. “Yep!” You say, overcompensating just a bit. “All good,” you lie. You close your eyes, trying to push thoughts of Logan out of your head, denying the heat growing between your legs.

“Good, because we’re almost there,” Logan says, the X-Jet descending carefully. You look out the window to see the trees below. There’s a lake in the distance, but that’s it. No civilization, no houses—no one. It’s empty, peaceful. 

“We’re really in the middle of nowhere, huh?” You say, glancing at Logan. 

His eyes meet yours and he smiles. Warmth blooms in your heart at the sight. “My kind of place,” he says back. The X-Jet descends further as you approach a clear spread of grass to land on just ahead. 

This is, in fact, not your kind of place. The humidity creeps up your back and settles under your skin. The forest is overgrown and impossible to navigate. You let Logan slice through the plant life with his claws, swiping back and forth whenever something gets in your way.

You haven’t been walking for long, but you’re already done. Perhaps Charles was right; a partner is not the worst idea on a mission like this. 

You can see the flower just ahead—yellow petals and a long, green, viny stem. It glows brightly even under the dense forest canopy. “Semper in tenebris lux,” Charles had said; there is always light in darkness. And he was right. The flower illuminates everything in its path. Next to it, you can see a pretty, lavender-colored flower. You stop in your tracks, letting Logan wander ahead as you crouch down to stroke the purple petals. 

“Charles didn’t say anything about not taking other flowers too, right?” You call out, watching as Logan swipes carefully at the stem of the yellow flower. He holds the dainty stem in his large hands as he walks back over to you. 

“No, he didn’t. But you should be careful. It could be poisonous or—”

You ignore Logan, picking the flower anyway. You hold it up to your nose and breathe in. It’s sweet and fragrant. You twist the stem and realize the flower is sticky with sap and pollen. Your twist shakes some of the pollen up, and it lands all over your face. 

“Shit,” you mutter, wiping it away. A gust of wind sweeps through the forest, knocking the flower out of your hand and spreading more of its pollen in the air. You can feel it in your nostrils, getting caught in your throat.

Logan furrows his brows as the pollen falls to the ground. “What the fuck did you do?”

You roll your eyes. “All I did was pick a flower!” You lift your hands, feigning innocence. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You stand up, glancing once at the yellow flower in Logan’s hands and then back at Logan. “It’s pretty.”

He parts his lips, his stare focused on you. “Yeah, it is.” There’s something else in that stare, in those words. Like maybe he isn’t only talking about the flower. You shove those thoughts down as you turn around and walk back to the jet.

Your steps are suddenly very heavy. You scratch at your shoulder. Heat blooms in your chest, your stomach, across your face. You’re irritated and overheated and itchy. Your breath grows heavier and rougher with every step. 

Logan notices immediately. He stops, grabbing your arm. You can’t control the way you lean into his touch, nor the way you’re craving more. “Hey,” he soothes, eyes searching your face. “Are you okay?” There’s a hint of panic in his voice. 

You swallow harshly, nodding. Your throat feels thick, your skin tight and oppressive. “’M’fine,” you mumble. 

“Quit lying. I can tell something’s wrong,” Logan demands. You open your mouth to persuade him otherwise, but he doesn’t give you the chance, his grip tightening around your arm. “Your skin is on fucking fire, princess. What did you do?” He cocks his head, sniffing as he furrows his brows. His voice is darker now, slower as his eyes widen. “What the fuck did you do?”

You take in a sharp breath. And that’s when you feel it, the ache between your thighs, the slick arousal soaking through your panties. The realization smacks you in the face. For a moment, you’re clear-headed, but still terrified. The pollen. That goddamn, fucking pollen. “Logan, look, I think that purple flower had some—"

He cuts you off as he yanks your arm, tugging you towards the ship. “We need to get you back to the jet, okay?”

“Oh, I am so fucked,” you cry. You know you only have a few seconds left before the effects really kick in. “L-Logan,” you stutter, almost moaning as your core burns stronger with need. “T-the pollen was everywhere. What if you got some too?” 

He ignores you, handing you the yellow flower you came here for in the first place. He sweeps one hand under your legs and keeps the other at your back as he lifts you in his arms—bridal style. You can feel his heart beating in his chest. You lean into him again, searching for relief. Wetness pools between your legs. You have never felt this needy before. Your desire hurts, burns, scorches you. You rut your hips, clenching down around nothing. 

“S-stop doing that,” Logan spits, restrained and quiet. 

“C-can’t,” you whine. “It hurts, Logan. It hurts so fucking bad. How come you aren’t like this too?”

He pulls you tighter to his chest. “I feel a little something, but that might just…”

You tilt your head up to look at him. He works his jaw, that perfect jaw. You want to bite it, to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Might just be what?” You ask, tentatively brushing your lips against the hollow of his throat. 

“Nothing, just—fuck,” he groans as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses all around his neck now. “Don’t do that, princess. You don’t want this.”

“But I do, Logan,” you beg. The ramp to the jet lowers as you and Logan approach. “N-need you.” You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in. “Need y-you all the time.” The confession slips easily from your lips. 

Logan’s eyes widen as he walks up the ramp and into the ship. It lifts and seals shut behind him. “You don’t mean that, sweetheart. Let’s just get you back to the mansion as quickly as possible, yeah?”

He places you down on the seat next to him, taking the flower from your hands and putting it in the jar Charles had given you. The leather cold at your back almost feels good, almost relieving—until you realize Logan is no longer holding you, touching you. You reach out towards him, grabbing his arms, pulling him back in. “Don’t go,” you plead, nails digging into his biceps. Your body is on fire. Everything is unbearably painful. “Please,” you whimper. “Need you so fucking bad, just you.” 

“Fuck,” Logan curses. “I am not taking advantage of you. I am not doing this.” He stands, freeing himself from your grasp and walking over to the pilot’s chair. “I’m getting you back to the mansion and we’re going to fix this, okay?”

But that’s not good enough for you. You stand up and walk over to Logan. Your steps are shaky, your legs trembling. Your chest heaves, your heart beating rapidly. You climb into Logan’s lap, straddling him, one leg on either side. “Logan, I can’t fucking wait,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. The pressure feels delicious.  He grabs your hips, stilling you, forcing you in place. And that’s when you feel it: his erection, hard underneath your core. “This isn’t you. You don’t really want this, don’t really want m—”

“It is me,” you protest, squirming against his hold. “Logan, I’ve wanted you for months. I-I was thinking about you t-touching me the whole way here.” You remember the way his fingers dexterously pushed all the right buttons. Need courses through you like a river, and as Logan’s hold on your hips softens, you grind down into his lap, against his erection. “S-so good,” you cry out. 

His hands are still on your hips, but now he’s guiding you, rocking you against his cock. “J-just this though, okay?” 

You hum, pressing your forehead to his, rolling your hips faster. The relief is like heaven. His arms wrap around your back, his fingers trailing up and down soothingly. Logan ruts into you, his erection straining against his jeans. You can feel yourself getting closer, but the pain, the need, it’s all still the same. 

“Logan, it’s not gonna be enough,” you whisper, his lips ghosting yours. “N-need more. Hurts so bad.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, like he’s scared to truly touch you. But he wants to consume your pain, to take it away, to feel it for you. You can see it written across his face, in the way his cock throbs against your swollen clit, how he snaps his hips into yours. 

“I know, princess,” he coos, his hands like fire on your back. Your walls contract around nothing, begging for something to hold onto, to feel something sink deep inside. “Gonna take care of you.” He kisses you again, with more vigor this time, more passion. “I’ve got you, darlin’.”

You moan into his mouth. His composure is slipping, disintegrating with every roll, every rock of your hips against his. His cock notches against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure up the base of your spine. He hikes your shirt up, the cold air hitting your overheated skin. “F-feels good,” you stammer. You’re almost there, almost hitting that peak. “S-so close.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes. “Let go for me, know you can do it.” 

You moan his name, your orgasm crashing into you like a crescendo. You know you’re soaking through your clothes, and probably onto Logan’s too. He’s still rutting against you, giving you more. He knows it’s not going to be enough, and he’s right. Need builds back up just as quickly as you found your release. 

 “Lo…” you trail off, looking up at him under lust-filled eyes. You swallow harshly, squirming in his lap helplessly. “G-gotta have you.” 

He presses his forehead to yours. He works his jaw, parting his lips. “Y-you meant it when you said you wanted me before this?” But he already knows the answer. He knows you wouldn’t lie to him about that, not even now. 

“Yes,” you whine, pulling him closer. He tugs your shirt all the way over your head and picks you up, hands firmly gripping your ass. “Still gonna want you after this, too.”

He curses under his breath as he places you down in the pilot’s chair. He’s frenzied and frantic as he hooks his thumbs into your pants and panties, yanking them down your legs and casting them to the side. 

He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands, his thumbs brushing soft circles into your inner thighs. He’s kneeling, looking up at you. Your breath catches in your throat as his face settles between your legs. 

“Could smell you before, pretty girl,” he husks, his breath fanning over your clit. “Wanted this so fucking bad.” He doesn’t keep you waiting, licking a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “Knew you’d taste perfect. Pretty fucking pussy.” 

You throw your head back as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking harshly. He slips one hand across your back, keeping you close. His free hand climbs up your thigh, fingers exploring your folds as his tongue flits across your swollen bud. He spreads your arousal, prodding against your entrance before shoving two fingers deep inside you. “Logan!” You cry out, your walls clenching around him. He’s stretching you out, his fingers dragging inside you. He pulls out and plunges back in. He isn’t taking his time, isn’t teasing. He’s giving you what you need, pump after pump. 

You look down at him, his face buried in your cunt, consuming you, swallowing you whole like a starving man. He’s lost inside you, lapping at you with unwavering hunger and desire. His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing ever so slightly. You moan his name again, and he hums against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice rocking through your body. He’s wrecking you, but it feels so goddamn good. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he goads you along. He’s adding a third finger now, and you suck him in. You’d take anything he gives you, anything at all. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.” 

He sucks roughly, your walls clenching around him at the feeling. “Yeah?” He grunts, sucking again. “You like that? Feels good?” 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, stumbling over that one simple word. “S-so fucking good.” 

“I know, beautiful,” he groans, nipping at your clit in between his rough sucks. “Gonna make that hurt go away, okay?” His voice is like honey, sugar; it’s sweet, addictive. “You just gotta come for me again, can you do that?” His tongue strokes your clit, his fingers pumping faster now. 

You nod your head emphatically, pleasure surging as you near your peak. “Yeah, I-I can,” you huff. 

Logan smiles against your cunt between rough laps. “I know you can, sweetheart.” His fingers scissor inside you, deeper than before. He takes your clit between his lips again, sucking hard. 

And that’s all it takes—you’re screaming his name, coming undone, unraveling underneath him. The release is even better than the first, more full, more complete. Logan thrusts in and out a few more times before slowly pulling his fingers from your cunt. He licks one more long stripe through your folds and looks up into your eyes. 

For a moment, the fire inside has been quenched. You feel clear, levelheaded. But it doesn’t last long. “Fuck,” you moan, your head hitting against the headrest of the chair. The fire is back, spreading across your stomach, your chest. “Logan,” you whimper. “I n-need more.”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, taking you back up into his arms. He hoists you out of the seat, his hands finding your ass, squeezing softly. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you across the jet, setting you down on a storage container. 

You bring your hands up to his biceps. “Need you this time, Lo,” you choke, stroking up and down his arms as the heat builds painfully between your thighs. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes searching yours. 

“Always wanted you, always sure,” you whisper, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Wanted you too,” he husks. “But I wanted it to be different, to—” You cut him off. “Just want you. It’s okay like this. I promise.” You grind against him, his erection still straining inside the denim of his jeans. 

He takes the hint, and quickly unbuckles his belt, casting the leather to the metal floor with a clunk. He’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, shoving them down his legs, and lining himself up with your entrance. You push your hips forward, giving him better access. His other hand pushes your bra above your breasts, exposing you completely to him. 

With one hand on his cock and one squeezing your tits gently, he thrusts himself into you. He’s so deep—down to the hilt—stretching you out and working you open. He groans, flicking your nipple with his thumb, his lips at the shell of your ear. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine, quenching that fire inside. “So warm, so tight.” He pulls out and plunges back in again, filling you up. 

“Lo,” you whine. “More.”

“I know,” he growls, his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. “Gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He squeezes your tits once more before sliding his hand down your body and slipping between where the two of you connect. His fingers find your clit, drawing rough circles around the bud. “That feel good, beautiful?” 

“Y-yes, Logan, so fucking good,” you cry out as he rocks into you. His other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place. You hope there’s a bruise there later—proof that he touched you, proof that he fucked into you like the world was ending. 

His cock rubs against your walls, your muscles contracting around him, sucking him in deeper. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans. He’s taking all of you, hard and fast. You can feel him twitching inside you, throbbing with the same need you feel pulsing through your veins. 

Logan kisses your jaw, and then just underneath, biting down on your pulse point. You arch your back, your chest meeting his. The contact is delicious, the friction a necessity. He thrusts into you faster now, doing his all to satiate your every need. He’s getting you there, pump after pump, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time. 

It’s working. You can feel yourself slipping again, melting. “Logan,” you hum, too fucked out to say anything other than his name. That beautiful name, like a song in the air, a gentle prayer, a holy ghost. He’s all you need—all you’ve ever needed. 

Your walls contract, squeezing him tightly. “Fuck,” he mutters. You know he’s close too. He strokes your clit, circling roughly. “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it, let me get you there again.” 

“Lo,” you cry, your eyes fluttering open and shut as he fucks into you, rutting his hips, plunging deeper still. It’s all too much. You can feel the pleasure drumming inside you, coming to a head. 

Logan loosens his grip on your hip and slides his hand behind your back, pulling you into his chest. You rest your forehead against his. “Come on my cock, princess, let go.” And you do. You’d do anything for him. You moan as your orgasm tears through you. It’s all blinding white heat, liquid smooth, pleasure wracking your body. 

Logan curses under his breath, close behind. He pulses inside you once, and then he’s coming undone. Your arms wrap around his back, keeping him close, letting him know it’s okay to finish inside. He fills you up, whispering praises in your ear as you both come down from your high. Such a good fucking girl. Did so good for me. So fucking good. Perfect little pussy.

He’s still inside you, pumping slowly as you ride out your orgasm. His fingers let go of your clit, his hands running up your back and tugging you closer to him. He slowly pulls out, keeping you tight against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. You take a deep breath, waiting for the heat to build again, waiting for that need to surge every cell of your being. But there’s nothing. Your nerves are suddenly quiet—silent. 

“I-I think it’s over,” you stutter, still nervous that maybe it’s not. He keeps you there, holding you tightly, ready to start again if necessary. 

After a few minutes, you let yourself relax. It’s not coming back. It’s over. 

Logan presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. “I’ve still got you. Not going anywhere.” Your heart rate has finally slowed down. The heat is gone. You feel comfortable in your skin again. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into Logan’s chest. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, princess,” Logan reassures, his voice gentle and soft. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You nod against him, but you still feel a sting in your heart. You need to make him know that you meant what you said—need him to know exactly how you feel. You swallow nervously, ready to bite the bullet. 

“Logan,” you breathe. “I-I meant everything I said. It wasn’t just the pollen.” You pull yourself from his chest, looking up at him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you…” you trail off. “S-still need you now. Nothing’s changed.” 

He smiles down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know, darlin’,” he husks. “I wanted you before, and I still do, too.” 

“I know you wanted it to be different. I know it wasn’t—” But he cuts you off, his lips capturing yours, quieting your anxious rambles. “We’ll have other chances. Other times to do it the way I want.” He smirks, running his hands up and down your back. 

Other chances. Other times. More. More. More. “Yeah?” You ask. 

“Yeah, princess.”

tags: @wolviesgirl @dojacatswink @dilf420 @spiderset @pleasantlycrazyworld @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @y-ns-things

[shuafiles]

w boyfriend [j.ww]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | watching wonwoo play video games is so hot.

PAIRING | streamer gamer bf!wonwoo x afab!reader

CONTENT | smut with no plot (kinda), slight masturbation (f), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (pls dont), light degradation, voyeurism? (listening in), big dick wonwoo

WORDS | 2.4k

A/N | typical wonwoo gamer smut, which im obsessed with. also valorant gamer wonwoo, and a lot of stream terms lol.

you were lying in bed with your phone in hand, scrolling through every social media app due to boredom, when a notification popped up reading, “jwonwoo is live!”. a smile forming on your lips, you clicked on it. your boyfriend–clad in a grey hoodie and his black glasses–was displayed on your phone screen. he was looking around his screen, making sure everything was perfect for the stream. you glanced at the chat, seeing people slowly start to come in and greet him.

you loved that wonwoo was a streamer. it was so on brand of him to play video games and to livestream them to people. you could tell he loved creating content, too, always raving about what new games he was excited to play for his viewers. he couldn’t have done it without you. before you and wonwoo decided to live together, he used to stream his games for you on discord. seeing how entertaining it is to watch him play, you convinced him to livestream his gameplay to people, and he did. now he has over 300,000 followers on his account, supporting himself with what he loves doing most.

“plant the spike, gyu!” wonwoo’s voice echoed from your phone. you were so deep in thought that you hadn’t even realized his game started. examining him through his camera, his brows were furrowed, gaze intent on his game while simultaneously making call outs to his teammates.

there was something about wonwoo playing video games that made him so hot. his fingers quickly hovering and pressing different keys on his keyboard, which you could slightly see through the hand cam he had attached below his face cam (it was requested by his viewers). you loved the sight of him playing, you think it’s one of his hottest moments. him being so focused on whatever game he had on for the night. the sleeves of his hoodie being pushed up against his arm, his muscles flexing every now and then. you felt your arousal gathering between your legs, gripping your pillow before deciding to get up and head toward his room.

“hold on, cheol, i’m smoked off, can’t get into the site.” your boyfriend sat on his chair, facing his brightly lit monitor that you were sure was too close to his face. you leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed against your chest as you watched him. he muttered curse words when his agent died, leaning back on his chair as a spectator. the corner of his eye spotted you, head turning to face you fully, he flashed you a smile. he muted himself on discord, gesturing you to come close, which you did. “everyone, say hi to y/n! my lovely girlfriend is here.” he placed his hand on your hip as you leaned down to show yourself on camera.

“hi, chat!” you waved, smiling. your relationship with wonwoo was not hidden. his true fans knew he had a girlfriend, some were supportive, and some were haters. you did not really mind it, after all, they were only brave through the screen. you glanced at his second monitor where the chat was displayed, various people saying hi and complimenting you filled his stream. growing shy, you waved another goodbye before leaving the frame.

wonwoo quickly said he’d be right back before tapping the mic that was mounted on his desk to mute himself, pushing a button that turns his camera off. he slid one ear of his headphones off the side of his head. “hi, baby. what’s up?” he pulled you close to him, making you stand between his legs. his arms resting on your waist.

“nothing, just missed you.” you placed your arm on his shoulders, ruffling his hair lightly.

“wonwoo! buy a gun, man!” mingyu’s voice from his headphones. you leaned down to kiss his lips lightly before getting out of his grip.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’m just going to play a few games, then you have me, okay?” wonwoo assured you, placing his headphones on. taking a final look at you before he playfully patted your ass, making you yelp. “i love you!” he yelled out as you made your way out of his room.

an hour has passed, and you grew even more needy. wonwoo’s stream is still displayed on your phone, watching him intently and imagining him working on you instead of his keyboard. sprawled out on the bed, you closed your eyes, hands carefully caressing your own body. you wore a white tank top with lace on top and some pink and white striped lounge shorts. biting your lip, you slipped your hand under your shorts, not wearing any underwear. you swiped a finger from your entrance down to your clit, feeling your slick just from the thought of your boyfriend.

as if wonwoo could read your mind, you heard him groan from your phone. “fuck!” he sighed as he whiffed on an enemy. the sound traveling to your already throbbing core. you slipped a finger inside your pussy, not feeling content, you added another one. slowly pumping your fingers in and out of you, imagining his hands on you instead. groaning, it wasn’t enough; you needed more. pulling your fingers out from your shorts, and wiping them on the outside before marching over to wonwoo’s room.

wonwoo was practically in the same position you left him in. you walked near him but stopped when you were nearing his camera; you dropped to your knees, on all fours, and crawled under his desk. he was too focused on his game even to notice you were there. kneeling in front of him, you tapped his thigh with your hand, which made him jump and look down. you had a desperate look in your eyes, licking your lips. he smirked, he knew you like the back of his hand. he slid his chair closer to you before returning his gaze to his screen, your heart pounding from your chest as you pulled his boxers down enough to reveal his growing cock. he wasn’t that hard, which made you pout.

you grab hold of wonwoo’s cock, thumb sliding over the slit of his head while sliding your hand up and down. if he wasn’t hard before, he surely was now. his now perked-up cock was turning red from your touch. your mouth watered at his big cock pulsating. satisfied, you let go before grabbing the waistband of his boxers; he lightly lifted his lips as you pulled them down to his ankles.

“jesus.” you heard him grunt as you took his cock in your hand, darting your tongue out to his head. amused at his reaction, leaning down, you took your tongue out, licking the base of his cock all the way up to the head. he let out a groan, “i kicked the wall by accident.” he muttered against his mic, glancing at his chat to make sure no one could suspect what your naughty ass was up to. when he was in the clear, he glanced at you, pretending to reach for his foot, but he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. you leaned into his touch before you engulfed his cock in your mouth. tongue swirling around the base, moaning around his cock (thanking the heavens that he had noise cancellation on his mic). slowly pushing further down his length, lightly gagging when you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. you wrapped your fingers around the areas your mouth couldn’t reach. you continued to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks as you moved. tears brimming your eyes as you bobbed your head up and down.

wonwoo couldn’t focus on his game any longer, hearing his teammates curse at him for being shit, but he couldn’t care less, not when he had his hot girlfriend choking on his dick. so the minute his game ended (in which they lost) he clicked the “stream ending soon.” prompt displayed on his screen, and he muted his mic before gathering your hair with his hand, his other hand placing his headphones on his desk. his chat going crazy as to why he suddenly ended the stream.

“you’re such a naughty little slut, you know that?” wonwoo grunted, throwing his head back against his chair before guiding your head on his cock. you placed your hands flat against his thighs as he continued to thrust his cock in your mouth. his hips bucking upwards to bury his cock deeper into you. “needy princess couldn’t even wait for me to finish work, hm? you just want everyone to know what a dirty slut you are, don’t you, baby.” you looked at him through your lashes, he sighed at the sight of his cock deep in your mouth. “get up.” he let go of your hair, you unlatched yourself from his cock, a string of saliva forming.

wonwoo guided you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. his hand resting on your cheek before attaching his lips to yours. his lips were rough on yours as if he had been waiting to taste you all day. his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, making you moan. your hand flying to his hair, lightly gripping it.

“take these off.” pulling away from your lips, tugging at your shorts. you stood up before him, gripping your shorts before pulling them down. he leaned against his chair with his arms behind his head, shamelessly checking you out. “god, you’re so beautiful. take off your top for me, baby.” he gripped the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, he threw the shirt on his desk, hitting his mic, unknowingly causing it to unmute. he reached behind you to quickly press end stream, noticing his mic light was on. he glanced at his discord, seeing mingyu and seungcheol were still on the call. he decided to have fun. “come here, baby.” he gestured for you to climb on his lap, which you did immediately. making mingyu and seungcheol’s ears perk up on the other line.

“you’re wearing too much clothes.” you whined, gripping his hoodie, which he chuckled at, before reaching down and discarding the hoodie he had on.

“better?”

“god, yes.” you whimpered, fingers tracing his toned chest. you leaned forward, placing your lips on his neck, peppering him with soft kisses, and occasionally sucking on the spots you know he loves. you felt his hands rest on your ass, squeezing it, prompting you to grind your hips on his. your wetness transferring to his dick, a smirk forming on his face when he felt it.

“we barely even started, and you’re already dripping for me, princess.” wonwoo grabbed one of your breasts, placing his mouth near it. “what am i going to do with you?”

“please.” arching your back which made his mouth graze against your tits, you nearly cried at the contact. he hummed in amusement before swallowing your nipple with his mouth. you threw your head back, gripping his shoulders. he circled his tongue around the bud before pulling away and doing the same on your other boob. “wonwoo, please just fuck me already. been wanting you all night.” you begged.

“my poor girl, have you been waiting long?” he asked, to which you nodded. he lifted your hips before aligning his cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip along your folds, making you shiver. without warning, he gripped your body to sink down onto his cock, which made you yelp.

“oh god, your dick is so big!” you cried out, unaware that there were two people listening in on you.

mingyu groaned as he imagined you bouncing on his cock. it felt so wrong, but it was driving him insane. seungcheol, on the other hand, shamelessly already had his shorts down and his cock out, stroking it at every sound you made.

“fuck, how are you so tight every time?” wonwoo growled as you bounced on his cock. his hands lazily guided you, but you were too high on his cock that you were doing it all on your own. he watched as your boobs bounced along with your movement. the sound of skin slapping echoed throughout the room, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you continued riding his cock. “look at you, you love fucking yourself on my cock, huh?” nodding at his words as you were too lightheaded to speak. your stomach forming knots as he talked you through it. you loved it when he talked dirty with you, his deep voice mumbling the words you wanted to hear driving you completely insane.

“love–” nails digging into his shoulder, “your cock inside me.” you gasped out. his grip on your hip tightened, holding you in place as he thrusts his hips instead. you cursed out his name as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every pound. your head falling on his shoulder, you planted sloppy kisses on his skin. he let out groans, breathing out as he felt your lips on him. “w-woo, i can’t.” closing your eyes, he quickened his pace.

“take my cock like the slut you are.” you clenched around him, as he repeatedly rammed into you. you pulled away from his neck and stared into his eyes. his eyes were dark, brows furrowed as he brought you over the edge.

“fuck, baby. i’m gonna cum.” you moaned as your hips met his.

“cum with me, princess.” with a few more thrusts, your orgasm came crashing down. your knees feeling weak as you felt wonwoo’s cum paint your walls white. your body gave up, curling up to his sweaty chest. trying to catch each other’s breaths.

“i love you.” mumbling against his chest.

“i love you, too, baby.” you felt wonwoo swivel his gaming chair around, speaking into his mic. “enjoyed the show, boys?” your eyes widened, pulling away from his chest. he grabbed the headphones to place them near your ears.

“jesus christ, didn’t know you guys were kinky as shit.” mingyu spoke out, your cheeks flushing.

“that was hot as fuck.” seungcheol admitted, his dick limp from jerking off. you slapped wonwoo’s chest, which he only laughed at. secretly finding it hot that they were listening in the entire time.

“keep it to your imagination. remember, she’s mine.” wonwoo sheepishly smiled at you before kissing you softly.

“w boyfriend.” you giggled against his lips.

[star4daisy]

18/02 - husband - 1272 words - @rosekillermicrofic

“Where is he?” Barty asked desperately as soon as he entered the hospital. “Where the fuck is he?”

No one answered him. The place was a convoluted mess, with people running around, crying kids and wounded people in the waiting line. Barty barely avoided colliding with them as he ran to the front office.

The line was so big he considered stabbing himself to get admitted, that’s when he saw his salvation in the form of one Pandora Rosier. Barty skipped the line to where she was way ahead, ignoring all the protests around him. If anyone tried to stop him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting physical.

“Do you know how he is?” he didn’t bother saying hi to her, he couldn’t make himself talk about anything other than Evan.

Pandora didn’t look nearly as distraught as Barty felt, but she had always been better at keeping her emotions in. It must run in the blood.

“Haven’t gotten any information yet, they said I needed to check here first.”

“Motherfuckers.” Barty cursed, ignoring the old lady in front of them who was sending him dirty looks.

It felt like an eternity before they were called, but Pandora only had two people in front of her in line. Barty let her do the talking, he wasn’t in the right headspace to be polite to anyone right now. Not when Evan was injured and Barty didn’t know how he was doing. Didn’t even know if he was alive. No. Barty couldn’t let himself go there or he’d lose his mind. Turn the entire hospital into ashes in his wake. Hell, he might let himself burn too so that he could meet Evan again.

“What’s your name, sir?” The lady finally turned to him after Pandora had already given all her information and Evan's.

“Bartemius Crouch Junior.” Barty had no patience to entertain her.

“Document, please.”

Barty gave it to her as quickly as he could, almost dropping it in the process, he didn’t know why his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Okay, Mister Rosier just got out of surgery, he’s still at the ICU, so only family members and partners can go up.”

“Okay, I’m his partner.” Barty didn’t even blink, there was a time when it would’ve cost him everything to admit it, but now it came as easy as breathing.

“I meant legally,” she clarified with an apologetic look. “His sister can go in, but I’m afraid you're not on the allowed list.”

“Excuse me?” Barty’s voice went up without even meaning to. “I’ve been with him for years, we’ve known each other since we were eleven and you’re telling me I can’t fucking see him because we don’t have a stupid piece of paper saying we’re partners?”

“I’m sorry sir, but only spouses and family members are allowed, you’ll have to wait until he’s out of the ICU.”

“Wait my ass, I’m going in to see him.” Barty hit his fist on the glass separating them.

“I’m gonna need you to calm down, sir. Or you’ll be asked to leave.”

Barty’s laughter was brittle. “The only way I’m leaving here is if you're all on a casket if you don’t let me in.”

“Barty,” Pandora interrupted his tirade. “Evan is fine, he’s in the room now. He wouldn’t want you to end up in jail or worse when he’s okay.”

“Fuck off, easy for you to say when you can go in. I need to see he’s okay with my own eyes. I don’t believe this cunt or any of these useless motherfuckers.”

“Barty,” her tone was full of warning.

“I need to see him.”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes, there is,” and then Barty turned around and started running.

He had no idea where he was going, barely avoiding hitting running nurses, he heard footsteps behind him but gave it no thought, he had a one-track mind when he was determined and nothing made him as focused as Evan.

Barty saw a sign with ICU written indicating that it was located on the seventh floor and ran to the elevators. He pressed the button five times before he saw security coming in his direction.

“Shit,” Barty checked around him for anywhere else he could go when he saw the sign for the stairs, without thinking twice he threw it open.

Barty was out of breath before he hit the third floor. He wanted to kill himself. Fuck him for never accepting Potter’s invitation to do cardio with him. They reached him before he got to the fifth floor. Barty was never smoking again, he was so out of breath he thought they might have to call a doctor for him too.

Maybe they would have if Barty hadn’t punched the first security guard to reach him, or if he hadn’t kicked the second one making him almost fall off the stairs. Unlucky for him he wasn’t in his prime anymore after all the running, Barty should've dealt with them before running, maybe he would've had a shot but as it was now he was taken kicking and screaming bloody murder.

Barty spat blood at the security guards' feet as soon as they threw him out through the emergency exit, he hadn't even felt it when they hit him. “I’m gonna kill all you motherfuckers.”

“You’re lucky we aren’t calling the cops on you,” They warned him.

Barty paid them no mind, even though one security remained outside to watch if he was gonna try to make a run for it again. Barty had never been so pissed in his entire life. How dare they not let him in just because he didn’t have a stupid piece of paper saying Evan was his forever?

It wasn’t like they hadn’t already been committed to each other for years, Barty had simply never believed in the concept of marriage. Not when all the examples he had were bloody awful. But now, after this, he was making Evan his husband as soon as he got out of the hospital.

Barty was pacing in front of the hospital when he had his most brilliant idea, he wasn't sure what gave him the idea, but he knew it was the only way he was being admitted to the hospital again after the stunt he had pulled. 

Barty turned to the guard with a shit-eating grin on his face — he couldn’t stop himself — he was a bloody genius. Barty took out the pocket knife he carried everywhere he went. He was getting in there even if he had to draw more blood.

“Don’t even try it,” the man warned him, his eyes widening as soon as he saw the knife in Barty’s hand. “Stay back,” he said as he reached for his walkie-talkie and called for reinforcement.

There was no need, Barty just needed him to see what was happening. As soon as the others stepped back outside, complaining that he was still there Barty turned the knife and stabbed himself on his side.

“Oh, shit.”

"Crazy motherfucker."

“Oh my fucking god, hold him.”

Barty was still smiling when they stopped him from hitting the floor and carried him inside the hospital. He laughed when they admitted him to the ICU and said he needed immediate surgery. 

“Barty?” Pandora asked with worry when she saw him passing in a litter. He didn’t even see when they put him there. “What the fuck did you do?”

Barty got one glimpse of Evan sitting down on his bed with a frown on his face before he passed out.

Evan was alive.

It was worth it.

[sprytesukii]

18+ | freak!izuku at the gym …… | cw. scent kink, my strange little man <3

when izuku first offers himself up as your trainer, your initial thought is to be offended. is your form really that shitty? is this a thinly veiled way to criticize your gym etiquette?

he’s quick to assuage your worries, promising it’s just because he overheard your workout goals and he believes he can get you there! no other ulterior motive, he swears it.

you tell him you’ll think it over, get back to him, but as you do, you can’t find a reason to say no. he’s sweet. earnest, warm. not to mention, built like a brick house with pretty green eyes and curly hair to match.

izuku is pretty and you know there are worse things than getting up close and personal with pretty boy.

so, you agree.

your first session goes incredibly well. izuku is attentive and gentle, willing to push you past your limits where you allow, but stopping when you ask him to and mean it.

(if you let yourself, you could easily imagine how good sex with izuku could be — but you shake those thoughts as quickly as they come.

inappropriate.)

the session is so good that you agree to partner up with him officially, setting up a schedule that works well for the both of you before parting ways.

…

you meet up a few days later and the workout goes similar to the last — fun, a little flirty, but mostly hard work, and you’re very proud of yourself by the end.

with a high five and a promise to see each other soon, you head off to the bathroom to clean up and redress, only — you forgot your water bottle.

simultaneously cursing yourself for forgetting and thanking your lucky stars for remembering before you were all the way home, you turn on your heel and begin the trek back to the now-mostly empty main gym.

the hall isn’t long, but it gives you enough time to think about izuku — about his impressive physique (arms to die for - you just know he could manhandle you around), his soft, kind eyes, and his deep voice coaching you through some difficult stretches.

it’s just a crush, you reason with yourself, and it’ll go away. eventually. you hope.

it’s just — you’ve never met a man like him before and it shocks you to your core every time you remember he’s still single.

he wouldn’t still be single if you would just shoot your shot, your traitorous mind supplies.

you physically brush off the thought as you finally emerge at the end of the hallway, but when you get there, you pause, completely taken aback.

you and izuku had finished off your workout at the weight bench which you had - to your humiliation - completely covered in your sweat. you offered to grab the cleaner and paper towels, but izuku waved you off with a sweet smile and a promise to take care of it himself.

it doesn’t seem like he did considering you’re watching him inhale at the sweaty seat of the bench, where you know you left your mark the most.

izuku doesn’t look up, doesn’t notice you standing there mouth agape. he’s too into it — eyes closed and tongue lolling out as he presses his (button, freckled) nose to where you were just sitting.

your eyes trail down, without your consent, to see how hard he is, thick cock pressing at the seam of his basketball shorts.

a thrum of heat joins the disgust coiling in your stomach, forcing a noise past your lips. you clap a hand over your mouth, but it’s too late.

izuku’s head snaps up quickly, blown pupils meeting yours, but instead of getting sheepish and embarrassed like you’d expect, his look shifts to something darker. predatory.

you stutter out some kind of apology, an explanation for why you haven’t left yet while looking around for an employee, but the gym is suddenly devoid of all other life.

(the $100 izuku slipped to the night shift worker was pocket change if it meant he could get you well and truly alone. finally.

your “missing” water bottle was safely stowed away in his bag.)

“oh, didn’t want you to catch me like that. you aren’t… afraid, are you? c’mon, let me make it up to you.”

[poppyseed-cheesecake]

It wasn't easy, hiding how he felt.

It wasn't easy at all.

Here you were, finally within reach, and you sneered every time his eyes met yours. You were disgusted, scared and far from trusting him. So how could he tell you how his heart sang each time he saw you. That, had he his tail still, it would wag like that of a dog getting fed on the rare occasion you smiled in his presence.

Of course he couldn't. You'd never speak to him again. He had to take it slow, earn your trust, let you come to him.

Though he of course wasn't above using dirty tricks. You weren't exactly subtle, the one thing you liked about Sylus was his looks. So when he'd tasked you with stealing that brooch from him, it was no coincidence that you'd found him in little more than a towel or a robe multiple times.

And it had felt good, seeing you struggle, seeing your eyes flick down before quickly coming back up, your ears now a shade redder than before.

And giving Luke and Kieran that handcuff idea? Probably the smartest thing he'd done in a while. It had been the first time you'd genuinely smiled at him. Smugly, of course, but a win was a win.

You'd touched him so brazenly, Sylus had felt your nails gently graze his skin when you'd examined the hem of his robe, and it had taken him every ounce of self control to not break the flimsy cuffs and grab you right then and there. Oh how he'd longed to pull you into his lap, bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhale your scent, press you against his chest and feel your heart beat against his...

But he'd endured, not wanting to scare you away, until you'd asked one question too many and found yourself on your back, him hovering above you.

In hindsight, he regretted it.

How much longer would you have spent so close to him? Having thought him at your mercy, helpless and defeated? Would you have touched him further?

Sylus would never know, and he cursed himself for not having been more patient.

But it was all in the past now. Months later, you'd gotten kind of used to him at least. No doubt due to his constant efforts to be a part of your day to day life.

You even texted him first sometimes, like yesterday, for example.

-got mission in n109 zone, few days, lemme crash at ur place?-

He couldn't help but smile. Of course you could "crash" at his place. And he was grateful you'd given him a day in advance to prepare. The kitchen was stocked up with the sweets and instant noodles you liked. Your favourite coffee brand was ready for you, and so were the expensive shampoo and conditioner that you wanted to buy but that "just wasn't worth it".

Everything was ready for you. Including Sylus himself, of course.

He'd taken note of wich shirts had gained him lingering looks in the past. It was always a good choice to start the day buttoned up and end it naturally with a bit of cleavage. Apropos, you were going to come back soon from your last hunt for the day, Mephisto had done a good job keeping tabs on you without you noticing.

Quickly, Sylus got on all fours and began doing pushups, keeping and eye on Mephistos steadily incoming reports.

Good, you'd be here in about ten minutes.

Tossing his clothes aside, he took a quick shower before checking in the mirror. Satisfied with his pump, he wrapped himself in an expensive robe, leaving his hair slightly wet on purpose.

Just in time for your steps to announce your arrival. The shared livingroom door opened, and he could hear you sigh, then knock on the bathroom door.

"Yes?"

"You gonna be in there much longe-"

Sylus opened the door, perfectly timed to interrupt you. His right hand leaning high against the doorframe blocked you from entering immediately, and he didn't miss your gaze flicking over his entire body more than once before landing on his face.

"Sweetie, you look exhausted."

And positively ravishing, with your hair dishevelled, dirt and specks of blood staining your face, and your cheeks ever so slightly flushed, as you held his gaze steadfast. No doubt focusing hard on not taking a few more looks down.

"...Yeah no shit..."

Your voice was a bit more timid, less forceful, than you'd probably intended. But you still didn't look away, it took Sylus everything to not grab your face and- No, he shouldn't even think about it that only made it harder. He allowed himself to pointlessly wipe a bit of blood from your cheek though, long fingers tracing along your jaw, before stepping aside to allow you entry.

"I do hope this isn't yours?"

It took you a moment to swat his hand away completely and shove him out.

Your fingers were cold on his back, and he pretended to shudder.

"Go and warm up, what do you want to eat?"

The door slammed shut, but he did hear you demand "Soup" before the shower water drowned out any more noise.

It was a cold day afterall. A quick phonecall later the soup was ordered, and he was getting dressed, taking his time buttoning the shirt, not all the way up, of course.

The dinner was short and uneventful. You truly were too exhausted to even spare his chest more than a glance, and he could feel a bit of shame rising in his stomache. At least it really hadn't been your blood.

Of course you were worth every bit of effort, but he did feel a bit silly sometimes, courting you like a male bird, relying on shiny chains dangling over his muscles, using anything at his disposal to hold your attention. To make you feel anything other than fear and disgust towards him.

After you went to bed he sat in that shared livingroom, the one joining his bedroom to yours. Listening to soft pianos, quiet enough as to not disturb your sleep, but loud enough to almost overpower the sound of your breathing, because it truly was driving him insane.

You mumbled things in your sleep, higher pitched and gentler than when you spoke to him. In your sleep you weren't all fangs and claws. But sometimes you were scared. His good hearing was a curse, sometimes. When you whimpered in your sleep, no doubt dreaming of a past he hadn't been a part of, but knew well enough to understand why it tormented you.

In those moments he wanted nothing more than to rush to your side, hold you gently and make you feel safe, make all those horrible things feel so far away. But he knew you wouldn't like that in the slightest, waking up in his arms right now was probably akin to a nightmare, as much as it hurt him to admit it.

But he also couldn't ignore it completely. So he sat in the next room, listening to music just loud enough so that he could pretend not to hear you, and silently offer you support.

A few days later, much to his surprise and delight, you found yourself cooped up in his apartment. Heavy rain keeping you from your hunt. But instead of your usual grumbling you'd dropped a hefty stack of cards onto his desk.

"Hm?"

He looked up at you, genuinely wondering what you were going to do next. Sylus shouldn't have done that, you looked so beautiful from below that he forgot his own name for a moment.

"If you're not busy, let's play."

You averted your gaze, and he realized he might have been staring too intensely.

"Nevermind."

Before you could fully turn he grabbed your wrist, tugging you back.

"No, let's play."

Turned out, you were incredibly competetive, and much better at the game than he'd thought.

Quite frankly, he should take you with him, next time he was playing cards somewhere.

It was a steady back and forth of losses and wins, woth you demanding a rematch each time your own cards betrayed you.

Sylus didn't mind, you were so engrossed in the game that you forgot how you felt about him.

Slamming down cards yelling "Take this, sucker!" and collapsing dramatically into yourself when he retaliated with a devastating blow.

And you actually laughed! Full on, laughter from the chest.

Oh how he could drown in that sound. What he wouldn't give to hear it every day.

And after that rainy night of cards, something had...changed.

In a good way. Both of you had noticed.

You didn't recoil anymore, when he reached for you. There were even a few times you asked him to take you along to some of his deals.

It felt good, having you take his arm at an auction. Wearing a dress in his colours, showing off those firm shoulders, each movement a sight to behold...his view was divine, and it was a struggle to keep his hands from wandering.

But it wasn't worth risking your slowly budding trust.

So he restrained himself, letting you lead every interaction.

You didn't need to know what he did to himself later, when you were gone, while thinking of exactly what he saw that night. Of what he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to slowly take it off.

Starting with the straps on your shoulders, he'd hook his finger underneath, feel the leather press it against your skin while it would slowly glide towards the buckle. He'd pull it up a bit, watch your reaction when you'd think he was going to let it snap down onto your skin, only to pull it aside to give him access to kiss and bite as he pleased.

He would try to keep his other hand on your waist for a while, but he knew he wouldn't be able to resist sliding into the slits of the dress for long. He'd tease the edge of your underwear without ever seperating from your neck and shoulders, push up further, until that pesky belt would block him.

Would he take it off, or would that be too much time wasted? Honestly, he probably wouldn't have the patience for that. He barely had a hold on himself just holding onto your arm, and if you were to give him permission to do as he pleased? No, who was he kidding, if he truly was allowed, he'd just pull the top of the dress down. Why would he bother with that belt. He'd let his lips wander lower, hopefully your hands would be in his hair. Hopefully you'd pull him up occasionally to press your lips to his. And hopefully you'd forcefully push his head back down until you could hook one of your thighs over his shoulder.

He'd drag his mouth over the inside, too hazy to even consider closing it. Then he'd reach where he wanted to be most, and he wouldn't be able to hold onto himself for much longer. That much he knew.

There would be no dignity, or class in it, no, the first time you'd allow him you'd see him on his knees begging for a taste.

If there would be times after that, he could attempt to be dignified.

What would your voice sound like, when he'd pull your panties aside to finally taste you? Would you eventually grab his hair, hold him in place so you could grind on his nose? Ride it out, with no consideration for him or his ability to breathe? What expression would you make, when you finally came?

He dropped his palm on his face, sighing heavily.

This wasn't good. His fantasies were so many steps ahead. It was bad enough that he occasionally imagined you underneath him, his crushing weight holding you in place while he softly cooed praises in your ear, but this...was arguably even worse.

Sylus felt himself, achingly hard just at the thought. And the guilt did eat him alive, but he'd already imagined this far, and you'd gone home. So much closer to him than before, but still far too distant.

Part Two Part Three Part Four

[mashtatosworld]

eyes on me (4)

summary: jiyong is determined to find reconciliation whilst the truth of the scandal tears apart the peace you'd finally found

warnings: mentions of stalking

It was your day off.

The apartment was too quiet.

You hadn’t dared to turn your phone back on since the night Daesung left. Since the day Jiyong's name had flashed on your screen like a storm you hadn’t asked for - demanding to be heard.

But now, the quiet stretched too long. You wanted to speak to Daesung. Needed to.

You sat on the edge of your bed, thumb hesitating over the power button.

And then you pressed it.

The screen lit up.

73 missed calls. 24 voicemails. 107 messages.

All from Ji 🖤.

Your stomach dropped.

The phone buzzed again immediately - a call, his name blinking across the screen like a warning siren. You stared at it, jaw clenched, then swiped it away. Another one immediately came through. Then another.

He wasn’t giving up.

You cursed under your breath and finally blocked his number. The silence that followed felt eerie.

Heavy.

You never thought you’d have to block him.

It felt wrong somehow - to erase someone you used to share a life with, a bed with, a future with. But it also felt necessary. Like sealing a wound. Or stitching one shut.

You finally opened your messages and typed a quick one to Daesung.

[y/n] hi :) are you free today? maybe we could hang out ?

You hesitated before hitting send. It had only been a couple of days since you'd last seen him, but he felt further away than ever.

You waited.

No response.

Instead, the next notification came from your banking app.

Jiyong had transferred you ₩100,000.

Reference: “UNBLOCK ME PLS”

Another one came through shortly after.

₩150,000.

Reference: “NOT GIVING UP”

And another.

₩200,000.

“NEED TO TALK.”

You slammed your phone face-down on the table and let out a loud breath. A bitter laugh escaped before you could stop it.

Of course. Of course he’d try to buy a way back in. Of course he’d resort to any means. He was nothing if not persistent.

It was desperate. And pathetic.

And worst of all - it still hurt.

You grabbed your jacket and left.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You didn't have much of a plan, but you needed space.

Air.

Anything other than the four walls of your apartment and the ghost of Jiyong breathing through your notifications.

You bought yourself a coffee and walked aimlessly through the streets. You stopped to buy a small bouquet of delicate tulips from the flower shop just because they looked soft and quiet and lovely - everything you weren’t feeling.

And then you passed a cat café.

You paused.

There, behind the glass, perched like a tiny gremlin on a plush cushion, was the roundest grey Scottish Fold Munchkin you’d ever seen. She was chewing on a stuffed shrimp toy with absolute conviction. You snorted before you could stop yourself and snapped a photo through the window.

It felt good to capture the moments that made you feel normal - happy.

You posted it to your private account without a caption.

Not for anyone else. Just for you.

You only had ten followers anyway.

Your old social media accounts hadn't been touched since the dramatic public leak, they were now filled with hate comments and death threats.

But the new upload felt like proof that the day wasn’t completely ruined. That maybe - in small, unexpected moments - there were still pieces of joy waiting for you.

You sat down on a nearby bench, pulling your coat tighter around yourself, and stared at the little grey puffball through the glass.

She looked like she didn’t care about any of it. Love. Loss. Boys who begged for attention through bank transfers.

You exhaled slowly and let yourself smile.

Just a little.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You were halfway home, tulips in one hand and your phone in the other. The cold nipped at your cheeks, wind curling around your exposed neck.

Then your phone began buzzing in your hand.

Dae?

Your breath caught in anticipation as you quickly lifted the screen.

But your frowned at the number calling. It was your old boss, from the production company.

You answered anyway, cautious. “Hello?”

“Y/n?”

“…Yeah?”

“We need you to come to the office. Right now.”

You laughed sharply, incredulous. “Why? Did I leave my name badge behind or something?”

“N-no this is serious,” they said quickly. “The police are here. They say you need to be present.”

Your fingers went cold around the phone. “What?”

“I don’t know more than that,” the voice said. “But they were very clear. Please come.”

The call ended before you could ask anything else.

You stood still for a long moment. The noise of the street blurred around you. The brown paper around your bouquet crinkled in your grip.

Then reluctantly, you turned back toward the city.

Away from home.

As you passed the cat café again, the little grey munchkin spotted you and pawed at the glass with a squeaky little meow. A tight smile tugged at your lips. You tapped the window once in farewell.

Then kept walking.

The second you stepped through the doors of your old building, your body seized up.

The floors still shined. The coffee machine still hissed behind the reception desk. The air smelled like glass cleaner and stress.

But none of that registered.

Because standing in the middle of the lobby, pacing like a man haunted, was Jiyong.

Your heart thudded.

He was unshaven. Pale. A cap pulled low over his messy hair. Jiyong looked nothing like the sharp, golden man you used to know. He looked tired, crooked.

Hollow.

You turned on your heel instantly.

No. Not today. Not like this.

But your name hit the air like a tether.

“Y/n - wait!”

His hand caught your wrist before you could make it back out the door.

“Let go,” you snapped, spinning around.

“Just - just listen to me - ”

His grip wasn’t tight, but it burned. You yanked your arm back like it stung.

“Is this one of your schemes?” you hissed. “A way to rope me in? A ‘GDragon master plan' to show me how sorry you are?”

“I wish it was,” he said quietly. His eyes met yours - dark and frantic beneath the brim of his cap. “I wish this was something I made up. But it’s not.”

You stared at him, heart racing. The florescent lights buzzed overhead.

“I didn’t come to see you,” you whispered. “I came because they said the police - ”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know because they called me here too. I swear.”

You didn’t know what to believe. But you believed the tremble in his hands and the strain in his voice.

He took a shaky breath. “Still... it’s good to see you.” Then, softer - almost reverent, “More than good.”

You huffed, narrowing your gaze. But something twisted painfully in your chest.

The moment was cut short by the click of dress shoes approaching.

A tall man stepped forward, scanning a clipboard, his police badge glinting around his neck. “Miss Y/n? Please come with me.”

You hesitated, looking at the officer, then at Jiyong.

Your fingers curled around the tulips in your hand. You didn’t know why you’d brought them with you, but it felt good to grip onto something real. Your senses felt blurred as you fell into step behind the officer.

Jiyong reached for your back, as if to steady you gently, like old times.

You flinched away from his touch and stepped away.

He retracted his hand, fingers briefly clenching before falling to rest at his side.

You followed the officer whilst your pulse pounding in your throat. Jiyong trailed behind you in stewing silence.

Everything in your body screamed to run. But the truth - whatever it was - was finally catching up.

And you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear it or not.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The room was cold, too white, too bright. A long glass table stretched between you and the people on the other side - Jiyong’s security manager, your old boss, and two plain-clothed officers.

Jiyong lingered near the window, biting his thumbnail, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it hurt.

You stepped towards the empty seat warily, the bouquet still in your hand like a shield.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” you said immediately, your voice low but firm as you rested your hands in your lap. “So if this is some elaborate apology meeting - ”

“We know,” one of the officers cut in. “You haven’t done anything wrong. That’s why we asked you here.”

You stared. “Then why the hell was I treated like I had?”

Silence.

Your old boss cleared their throat. “After… everything unfolded, and the investigation into the footage breach was properly reopened, the actual culprit was discovered. That's when Mr. Kwon decided to take legal action and press charges. And that’s why the police are here now.”

You glanced over at Jiyong. His eyes didn’t meet yours. He was staring at the floor.

The officer now took over. “But during that process, we uncovered some… troubling evidence.”

There was a tensioned pause and you felt the weight of it in your chest.

“The man who leaked the footage - he was working as private security here. Contracted through an outside firm."

You listened intently but the words felt jumbled as seeing Jiyong again had dismantled your thoughts. You could practically feel him and his stiff presence lingering somewhhere behind you.

“This man was assigned to camera monitoring. Which, on paper, is nothing alarming. But the deeper we looked, well," The officer sighed loudly and set papers on the table. Photographs. Each one, a still image of you. At your desk, at the water fountain, on your lunch break. " - well he was watching you.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Every day you were in the building. He wasn’t just doing his job. He isolated the camera feeds in your workspace. Focused them. Recorded them. We believe he studied your schedule.”

You felt sick. You gripped the arms of your chair, knuckles turning white.

“He resigned shortly after you were terminated,” your old boss added quietly, rubbing her forehead anxiously. “With no warning or forwarding details.”

You could barely look at them. “And you only care now?”

A beat passed in which no one answered.

The officer cleared his throat. “Initially, we assumed the motive was financial. A leak for clout, maybe profit. But this man didn’t attempt to sell the footage. He just… released it. And walked away. That suggests something else.”

“Obsession,” murmured the other officer, crossing her arms over her chest. “Control. Isolation. These are all tactical ploys of a dangerous stalker.”

You blinked, trying to breathe through the swirl of nausea in your chest.

“It’s our belief that he wanted to dismantle your life. Cut you off from your career, your circle, your... partner." The male officer looked to Jiyong who was grinding his teeth, glaring at the papers on the table. "He wanted to make you vulnerable, easier to approach.”

You closed your eyes, feeling utterly terrified and violated.

The male officer continued. “We’re applying for a warrant to search his apartment, but it appears to have been vacated. We don’t know where he’s gone. Until we do, we have no way to press further charges.”

“So what?” you said, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “You just wait? Hope I don’t get murdered in the mean time?"

“We’re doing what we can,” the female officer said calmly. “But we can't get involved unless we have more evidence. Until then, we strongly recommend that you relocate. You may be in danger.”

“I’ve already moved,” you said with a sigh. “Weeks ago.”

“Good,” they replied. “Although you should still take precautions.”

“She’ll move back in with me,” Jiyong finally spoke, voice low. “I've already increased my security - ”

You laughed bitterly, cutting him off. “Absolutely not.”

He frowned and moved toward the table. “Y/n - ”

“You had your chance to protect me. You chose silence. You chose to disappear. You don’t get to dictate anything now.”

“I didn’t know,” he said, his voice rising. “I didn’t know it was someone dangerous - ”

“But you should have known!” Your voice echoed across the room, sharp and furious. “You should have known I'd have never done this. You didn’t need the police to tell you that. You could’ve just believed me.”

Jiyong’s lips parted, but you spoke first.

“Besides, I don’t want your security watching me,” you tutted irritably. “I think I’ve had enough people watching me.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe - ”

“So you can track me like he did?” you snapped. “Have eyes on me twenty-four-seven? No, thanks.”

His face crumpled. “That’s not - ”

“Just find him,” you muttered to the room. “End this. So I can go back to building my new life. A life that doesn’t include any of you - any of this.”

Silence.

The male officer finally stood. “We’ll update you as soon as we have something. For now... keep your phone on. And stay aware. Surround yourself with friends and family.”

You nodded once. Then turned, and left the room.

The tulips were crushed in your fist. You had forgotten they were even there.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The hallway spun a little as you stepped into the lift.

You pressed the button for the ground floor and leaned back against the mirrored wall, tulips crumpled against your chest. Your hands were trembling. Everything in you was trembling.

The doors began to close -

A hand shot through.

Your heart lurched.

Jiyong stepped in before they could shut, and you rolled your eyes, dropping your head back with a muttered curse.

“Are you serious?”

He didn’t say anything. Just kept his eyes on you.

You jabbed at the button for the next floor, ready to walk the stairs if that’s what it took to be away from him -

But then he moved.

His hand slammed the stop button and the lift jolted to a halt, humming with sudden stillness.

Your eyes widened. “What are you doing?!”

He turned, planting himself in front of the panel, feet spread and shoulders squared as if he was guarding it. “I need to talk to you. Just for a second.”

“I don’t care,” you scoffed. “Get out of my way.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, thick. “For everything. For cutting you out. For doubting you. For not picking up when you needed me. I’m so sorry. But please… don’t let your anger blind you.”

You crossed your arms tightly, jaw locked.

“You’re safer with me,” he said quietly. “Or at least… with my help.”

You shook your head, venom in your voice. “Your help? You mean the same help that disappeared the second things got hard? The help that left me alone in this mess?”

He flinched like you’d struck him.

“You don’t get to use fear to claw your way back into my life, Jiyong,” you muttered sharply. “I don’t want you. I don’t want your help. I don’t even want to look at you.”

You moved to shove him aside, reaching for the buttons -

But he stood firm.

And now that you were close, you could see it.

His eyes - glassy, rimmed red, pooling with unshed tears. His jaw trembled, lips parted like he couldn’t quite breathe.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Jiyong whispered. “But I'm going to. Please. I’m begging you, just let me help. Don’t shut me out completely.”

The desperation in his voice caught you off guard.

So did the way your chest pulled toward him, even as your brain screamed not to.

You stepped closer. So close you could see the dark half-moons beneath his eyes. The air between you tightened, heated. His scent hit you like a memory - clean, citrusy, a little cologne, and a lot of cigarettes.

“I’m scared,” you finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

That was all it took for his arms to wrap around you instantly, like his body had been aching to do it since the moment he saw you again. Strong, trembling.

Familiar.

You let yourself lean in to his warmth. He still knew exactly how to comfort you - that you liked your hair to be smoothed down, a warm hand to cradle your lower back, his breaths syncing with your own.

Just for a moment.

Your eyes closed. Heart thundering and skin tingling.

But only for a moment.

With a quiet breath, you slipped an arm behind him - and pressed the button to restart the lift.

It jerked back into motion. And the moment was over.

You stepped out of reach just before the doors opened, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

And without another word, you hurried out.

Leaving him alone inside the cold metal box.

The minute you stepped outside and your phone connected to signal again, you rang the only person you wanted to hear from right now.

He picked up on the third ring.

"Hi,"

"Hey... is everything ok? Sorry, I only just saw your message now," Daesung said, as the biting wind from outside hit your face.

"Yeah, uh, I'm all good. Just - will you stay on the phone with me? I'm walking home," you murmured, clutching the device tighter. You had rarely feared walking alone in the day time until now.

"Of course. Are you sure you're ok? Did you want to talk about something in particular?"

You continued your fast pace, eyes glancing around at your surroundings as people passed by, going about their own day.

"No... I don't have much to say. Tell me about your day instead."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

im sorrryyyyy i've been so inactive - these assignments are busting my arse. anyway, i hope you keep safe, happy and healthy,

love always,

mash xxx

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife , @sylviavf , @ldydeath , @wonyluvi , @deliciousmagazinequeen , @heartubeatusalon , @imminsugasgf

[hangup119]

ඞ JOIN GAME?

twenty-two. galvanized steel and eco-friendly wood veneers

warnings: spoilers for jujutsu kaisen (manga only), cringe brain rot 😓

NERVOUS WOULD BE A COMPLETE AND UTTER UNDERSTATEMENT FOR WHAT ANTON LEE CURRENTLY FELT. 

After he had made sure that the stream was officially over and that his camera was no longer running, he had made a quick dash towards the nearest mirror in a vain attempt of making sure he didn’t look too much of a try-hard with his outfit and hair. Only after making sure that he didn’t look like either, he gathered the last of his wits (what much was left after playing Resident Evil 4 for two whole hours anyway) and proceeded to make his way down to the lobby to finally meet the ”girl of his dreams,” according to the embarrassing, spur-of-the-moment tweet he had made earlier. He cringed just to even think back on it. 

“Where is she?” Anton muttered as he stepped out of the elevator, quickly looking around the relatively empty lobby for any sign of you, much to no avail. 

Well, this is  it, he thought while attempting to steel his nerves for the umpteenth time. This was the moment all previous chapters have accumulated to—the peak of countless weeks of having known each other online in and out of streaming and private DMs he would sometimes think about during the crack of dawn on a random Tuesday. He figured that there wasn't much to do now since he already hyped himself up while he was cleaning this morning, and recently just now when he was still five floors above. Sure, he probably looked real stupid when he kept repeating affirmations to himself (“your rizz is real, your rizz is real…!”) in front of whoever was monitoring the CCTVs today, but Anton realized that he was far too skittish about your short-notice meet up to truly care about others’ perception of him anymore. Which, in hindsight, was concerning. He wonders if he needs to schedule an appointment at the doctor’s…

“Boo.” 

Anton jumped lamely, cursing under his breath before having it immediately taken away when he turned around to face you. 

You blinked up at him.

“Woah,” you said, a bit surprised, “you’re so… tall.” 

“And you're so… short,” was his genius response. 

“What was that?” you asked darkly. Anton gulped nervously, but then you looked at him quizzically. “No, like, seriously, what’d you say? I couldn’t hear you properly; your voice is too soft, man.” 

Oh, okay. He almost breathed out a sigh of relief because you didn’t hear that.

“Nothing important,” Anton stammered, hastily ushering you towards the elevator doors without giving you a chance to say anything else. “Let’s just go. You wanna see the fish, right?” 

“But I—…” you trailed off, watching him hurriedly press the buttons on the wall. “Yeah, okay,” you breathed out eventually, awkwardly fiddling with the straps of your bag. When the doors finally closed, Anton stood back and glanced at you briefly. It didn’t go unnoticed however, as you quickly returned the look, offering him a small, steady grin.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Hi,” he nodded back at you, before tearing his gaze away. 

Anton didn’t bother to say anything else, and neither did you, so it was safe to say that the ride towards the seventh floor ended up being a little awkward, what with him trying to discreetly steal glances at you every now and then without you noticing, far too busy finding out what’s so interesting about the elevator ceiling. 

By the tenth urge, he realized just how hard it was to resist looking at you. 

Truly, incredibly, and scarily concerning. 

Now, don’t get it wrong: Anton’s not the kind to just fall for anyone that easily. Sure, he may be young and chronically online and knows too much brain rot-terminology for his own good, but he wasn’t some fourteen-year-old on Discord with a Ken Kaneki profile picture who’d join random servers that would probably die within three months, snag an E-Girlfriend within that time frame before breaking up with her because ‘LDR just won’t work out, babe, it’s not you, it’s me’ or however those situations would go. He was better than that, or so he’d like to think. (Although he was, unfortunately, a twenty-year-old on Discord.) 

Point is, Anton wasn’t stupid enough to fall for just anyone he met online—much less someone he met on Roblox Altitorture, for goodness sake! He can entertain the thought of finding them pretty through pictures he’s seen online, yeah, and he can entertain his friend’s teasing remarks about his supposed crush on someone he hasn’t even met, but Anton liked to believe that it never was that serious. He wasn’t that jealous over you sitting all alone inside another guy’s house, looking after another guy’s fish, or planning to spend another guy’s fifty bucks on useless micro-transactions he could buy for you as quick as lightning without you having to lift a finger (and he has!), and he definitely wasn’t that serious when he accidentally blurted out a sentence that could potentially jeopardize the fanbase he had been steadily building up since he was fifteen, right?

And inviting you over to his house under the pretext of taking a look at his fish (who was probably in both Sungchan and Shotaro’s hit list) wasn't that serious. 

…Right?

You’re just friends, Anton convinced himself when the two of you exited the elevator and walked towards his door. You’re just friends, Anton repeated inside his head as he typed in his PIN on the keypad. You’re just friends, he reassured when he finally swung the door op— 

“God, you’re so rich,” you muttered the moment you entered his condo, and all thoughts of denial Anton had repeating in his mind suddenly came running out the window as he watched you remove your shoes at the front. “You have all this space to yourself?” 

“My mom visits sometimes,” he squeaks out pathetically. 

You looked back at him, a bemused smile on your face and—oh, who was Anton kidding? You’re way prettier in real life compared to the pictures he saw on Sohee’s Facebook post, and whether that was a good thing for his mental health or not—well, he didn’t want to find out anymore. 

Wrongly assuming you’d head straight towards his fish tank, Anton found himself trailing after you as you started loitering by the living room. “Are these your parents?” you asked, signaling towards the multitude of frames on top of the wooden furniture. “You have a brother? He looks just like you.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Anton affirmed, moving to point at the photos. “That’s my mom, my dad, and my younger brother. Over there are my grandparents.” 

You whistled. “Wow, your mom’s really pretty,” you noted with a laugh, “she looks like she could be famous, or something.”

“Uh, she was an actress, actually.” 

Your smile dropped as quickly as it appeared. Anton had to stifle back a snort. 

“...For real?” you asked, carefully looking back at the picture and then towards him. He slowly nodded. “What? Don’t tell me your dad’s famous too? Your grandma? Your childhood dog? The mailman who steals your Amazon deliveries?” 

His silence practically confirmed it, and you squawked in response. (Though you weren’t too sure about the mailman. The grandma and the dog? Sure, since even his fish was famous.)

“My dad’s a music producer,” Anton elaborated, moving away from you to head towards the corner where his fish, the supposed star of the day, resided at. “He’s over in Korea, though, so I don’t see him as often anymore.” 

You followed after him, unsure of where else to go. “Your mom was an actress, and your dad’s some hot-shot music producer… and you decided to become a Let’s Play streamer?” you wondered to yourself, incredulous. Anton looked back at you indignantly, but you merely shrugged back at him. “I’m just saying, dude. You could be, like, I don’t know, a K-pop idol or something with those connections. Oh! You could be in NCT—what do you think of bright, green hair on those luscious locks of yours?” 

Anton gave you a scalding side-eye.  

“...Nah,” he eventually said with a  shake of his head, a wistful grin on his face. “It’s a little late for that.” 

You were about to say something else, something probably much more snarky to the absolute nonsense Anton responded to your suggestion with, but your words quickly died down inside your throat the moment a familiar shape of glass appeared in your vision. Anton promptly stepped aside to let you have your moment with his pet, unable to fight off the smile rising on his face as you approached the tank with wide, astonished eyes. 

“Stonerland,” you breathed out quite dramatically, finally witnessing the white betta fish swim inside his lonesome tank. “You’re real.”

You inched closer towards the glass, but remained mindful not to touch it per Leehan’s wise teachings. The light from inside reflected onto your eyes, splashes of green and white appearing in them. It would’ve been off putting to anyone else who was observing you, the you who was unblinking as you stared at the oblivious animal, but you didn’t seem to care. You were completely and utterly entranced, lost in your own little world. 

“...You’re so pretty,” you murmured, following Stonerland’s every move. 

Your gaze slowly moved towards him. 

“Right, Anton?” you asked, fully expecting him to be looking at the fish as well. 

Instead, you were met with him already staring back at you, like those romance K-Dramas Eunseok always made him watch with their cliché fireworks scenes that always had Anton’s eyes rolling whenever it inevitably came up. They were all just copies of one another anyway—Han River, fireworks, and the main couple having the space all to themselves when it really should have been packed to the brim with other couples because it was South Korea.; he really could have cared less about such things (even if Eunseok swore to him that they were “peak”).

“Yeah,” he breathed out absentmindedly. 

And because Anton always disliked watching those scenes, the thought of him doing the same thing, albeit at a different situation but with the same principle regardless, never crossed his mind. 

But now, inside his place—the Han River—and watching his fish—the fireworks—with only the two of you beside each other, Anton didn’t even have the chance to roll his eyes because he was too busy staring at you, like some cliché male lead in some cliché romance K-Drama. 

“Oh,” you said. 

And then Anton blinked, snapping himself out of his reverie. “What?” he sputtered out, looking away from you and towards Stonerland, before inevitably bringing his gaze towards you again, only to shy away when you caught him in the act all over again. He coughed out, “What were you saying? Sorry, I was… I was thinking about something else.” 

“Like what?” your head tilted to the side.

“Like,” Anton nervously began, licking his lips as he thought of something to respond with only to come up with blanks. “Like, uh—” 

His eyes landed on Stonerland. 

“—I was just thinking of ways that I could fortify his tank so evil, malicious forces won’t get to him…?” he cringed as the words just kept tumbling out of his mouth. “Because I’m low-key scared that if I invite the boys over, Sungchan and Shotaro will find a way to murder my fish when I’m not looking. Or something like that. I don’t know—I’m just getting bad vibes from them, you know? I might just be paranoid, though.” 

Anton immediately found himself desperately avoiding your gaze, feeling the tips of his ears turn red at how stupid he must have sounded just now. 

“No, I get it,” you said, which catched his attention. “Those two are definitely up to no good, since you practically memorialized the empire they worked so hard to destroy in the form of a fish. A small, helpless fish up against two grown men… yeah, maybe just don’t invite them over.” 

Anton looked at you hopefully, only to be immediately let down when you continued. 

“To be honest, if Stonerland was your pet fish in Minecraft, I’d probably blow it up when you aren’t looking too. Redstone engineering and all, it’d look like a whole fireworks show,” you added bluntly, watching the tank with blank eyes. After a second, however, you quickly look back at him with an easygoing smile, cheerfully saying, “Good thing Stonerland’s a real fish, right? So cute! Betta fishes are the best…” you sighed wistfully. 

You didn’t bother commenting on the look of absolute horror on Anton’s face, too busy cooing at his fish as if you had not just threatened to blow it up in another life. 

He looked at Stonerland—poor and unassuming Stonerland, oblivious to the evils surrounding him and his owner. He wasn’t even safe from the girl who kept squealing over him, simply because of his given name. Poor, poor Stonerland indeed. Anton briefly considered changing the unfortunate fish’s name, maybe install some galvanized steel beams around his tank and some eco-friendly wood veneers for extra protection just in the slightest case anyone would dare to think of hurting his precious betta fish, but he was definitely putting up a sign that had Sungchan and Shotaro’s names crossed off on his front door. 

He slowly turned to you, meekly saying, “Please don’t hurt him.” 

You looked at him, absolutely flabbergasted. “Stonerland’s a guy?”

“Yeah?” Anton’s eyebrows furrowed. “...You didn’t know?” 

“What!” you gaped. “But the fins…! It’s so pretty and long!” 

“Male betta fishes have longer fins, and they’re much leaner,” Anton explained, pointing at Stonerland’s white, flowy fins. “Shouldn’t you know this? Isn’t that Leehan guy you’re friends with a fish-expert or whatever?” 

You pouted. “Well, he is, but he doesn’t own any bettas… so I don't know if he knows anything about them.”

“Hm, so Leehan doesn’t know shit about bettas, the coolest fish ever. I see.”

He felt pride quickly bubble inside his chest when you looked at him expectantly. “Right, yeah! Bettas are so cool! And you know so much about them; that’s so cool!” 

“Nah,” he pretended to be humble, scratching the nape of his neck. “I just did my research.” 

“You should buy a black one,” you continued enthusiastically, “so they can swim together! Isn’t that cute?” 

Anton deadpanned. “Uh, they’ll probably fight to death if that happens…” 

“Oh, so like SatoSugu,” you said blandly. 

Yeah, whatever that means, Anton thought.

The both of you stayed there for a little while more, with most of it spent on useless chatter and you taking hundreds of photos of his fish, so much so that Anton worried whether your phone’s storage was about to reach its limit, however you didn’t seem to care. He honestly didn’t know what exactly was so enamoring about the fish—it was just some small living creature that came with flowy fins and a penchant for loneliness, and all it would do is swim and eat and live off of Anton’s paycheck, but he supposed that if you enjoyed looking at it so much, then he was fine with keeping it. Heck, he’d be fine with protecting it against Sungchan and Shotaro, if it meant that it would keep you happy to see it was still alive. 

Which is, again, concerning. Anton never meant for any of this to happen—he never meant for him to wake up on a random Friday and decide that he was gonna let you into his house when you were, at the core of this situation, just some girl he had just coincidentally met online—and at a kids’ game of all places. 

But between the calls you’ve shared, the jokes, the countless hours you’ve spent together playing games, and the private DMs you’ve shared where no one else could interrupt him teasing subtweets or obsessive ramblings from either shippers or haters, then Anton figured that getting Stonerland was worth all the trouble and money (and Wonbin’s constant whining at the bus) just to see you smiling towards the tank.

…So, yeah, maybe he was jealous of you sitting all alone in another guy’s house, watching another guy’s fish, planning on using the money you earned to purchase useless micro-transactions he could easily buy for you, and maybe accidentally blurting out a sentence that could potentially ruin his career was all the more worth it when you are literally standing right next to him now. 

Anton never thought that everything would eventually lead up to this moment, and he might not be extremely smitten with you right now the way those male leads in K-Dramas would be, at least he doesn’t think so, but what he knows is that there was already a tiny voice inside his head constantly saying that, eventually, at a moment when he least expects it, it will happen. 

“If you want, I can buy you a black betta fish,” he started, leaning his chin on his palm, “and then we’d have matching fishes. Just like SatoSugu, right?” 

You glanced back at him, a little bit shocked. But then your eyes twinkled, and a laugh escaped from your lips. Anton found himself smiling back.

“No way,” you said, “you don’t have to do all that. You already bought me some Robux.” 

“It was literally just twenty dolla—” 

You cut him off. “Plus, one of them dies anyway," you said grimly, your expression darkening. "Actually, they both die."

That quickly shut him up. 

You continued with a snap of your fingers. “You know what, I’ll just tell you their whole lore—no, wait, we should just watch Jujutsu Kaisen instead! Do you have a Netflix account? Let’s binge the first season.” 

Seemingly without a choice, Anton promptly handed you the remote to his TV, staring blankly ahead while he followed you towards his couch. 

It seemed that it was also safe to say that your online personality translated perfectly into real life. For better or for worse.

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SYNOPSIS. not everyone is good at playing obby’s on roblox, and you’re no exception to this rule: after a particularly nasty encounter with another player on roblox’s altitorture, you log into twitter only to find out that the very same player who publicly dunked on your gaming skills turns out to be anton lee, a well-known streamer who also happens to be a friend of a friend. fed up with his fans bombarding your dms with teasing remarks or jealous musings, you decide to end it once and for all by appearing on his next stream with a promise to get through an obby successfully. however, you realize that the only thing you’ll be successful at is falling for anton lee instead.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. wooo first written chapter! what do you guys think so far??? i really like putting the pov on anyone else BUT y/n, it makes her more mysterious HAHA

TAGLIST. (closed) @shoberi @gisellessgf @serafilms @palchokitty @seunghancore @nujeskz @hisrkive e @alwayswook @emohoon @milktea-academia @kyusqult @dolloie @slutforjeno @meowbini @yizhuobberi @fae-renjun @kcharlyy @whoisgwyn @saranghoeforanton @au-ghosttype @gyehyeonist t @dodot04lover @outrologist @papichulomacy @odxrilove @maleegayuh @ilovejungwonandhaechan @dalsosapple @starwonb1n @tojis-luver r @slayhaechan @lakoya @he6rtshaker @rikianton @brachioswrld @woonagi-lemon @ffixtionista @endtostartbreathin @ki3ntot t @bidibaabidiboo @totheseok @astrae4 @hanbinniesmango o @daegale @regrool @sunflowerbebe07 @taroddori @miyawwn @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy

[marsbutterfly]

MECHANIC BADDIE HANJI WHO FIXES UP READERS CAR. SHES ALL LIKE I CAN TAKE CARE OF IT DARLING. YOU JUST SIT THERE AND LOOK PRETTY. (IDK SHIT ABOUT CARS) JUST NEED AN ACTS OF SERVICE HANJI

I'll Fix It All

a/n: omg happy new year!! this turned out way longer than I originally intended for it to be. i was hoping to post it before the year turned but i'll also accept the first day of the year lol. enjoy.

warnings: fem!reader (she/her), nb! hanji zoe (they/them), modern au, anxiety, panic attacks, kissing, fluff, comfort. also like, i don't know much about cars or car repair so pls bear with me. tagging: @wizzy21 wc: 2.5k | wattpad! | ao3!

"No, no, no, no, NO!" You cry out as your car slowly begins to lose speed. This isn't the first time this week, nor the second, nor the third. You couldn't even count on one hand the amount of times the engine had been making that weird noise and the light had been blinking at you like a malevolent eye.

But you thought you could put it off, that you could easily ignore it, and that it would fix itself like it had many times before. Maybe you just needed to check the coolant or add some more water to the radiator, except you continuously forgot to do so. And it finally came back to bite you in the ass.

As the smoke comes out of the hood, you grip the steering wheel tightly, a loud grunt escaping your lips as your forehead presses against the horn, the loud noise filling the air all around you. Still, you are lucky enough to be in a somewhat empty area so the least amount of people will be disturbed.

Your first instinct is to panic. You can feel the blood rushing through your body, your face getting warmer as a few tears begin to prickle in your eyes. You let out a shaky exhale, cursing yourself for allowing this situation to happen in the first place. Before you can even begin to cry, you feel your phone vibrating in the cup holder next to you, the caller's name showing up on the screen attached to the dashboard. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ‎‎‎"Sunshine ☼"

With a sniffle, you wipe the tears before they even have the chance to roll down your cheeks and pick up your phone, pressing the green button on the screen as you try your best to sound like you are composed and not entirely freaking out at the moment.

"Hello, my most beloved," you say, trying your best to sound like your playful self. Though it has no sound, you can almost hear the smile dropping off Hanji's face. It was not out of the ordinary for them to quickly pick up on the slightest change in your tone of voice.

"What happened?" They ask without missing a beat, the tone of their voice filled with love and concern, almost as if they were already expecting you to be in some sort of distress. "I was doing the dishes and accidentally broke a glass because I got such a bad feeling that my hand started shaking."

You sniffle but a small giggle exits your chest, the idea that the two of you are so intertwined that they can even sense when you are in some sort of distress, "Yeah, I'm fine… My car just finally gave out on me and I'm in the middle of a random neighborhood because I decided today, out of all days, to take a random shortcut!"

"Send me your location, and I'll get my tools and meet you over there," they say and you can already hear them moving around on the other end of the line. You wish you could protest but, the more you look at your car, the more panic fills your body. So you simply let out a quiet "okay" before hanging up.

Though your hands nervously shake, you can open your text messages and send Hanji a pin of your exact location. It isn't too far from your house, maybe five minutes if you speed up, and that knowledge only adds more fuel to your frustration. "Why now? I could have easily pulled into my driveway before you gave out!" You can't help the angry grunt that leaves your throat as you slam your hand against the steering wheel.

The waiting time seems like an eternity, an eerie feeling in the back of your mind like you are being watched. Your eyes dart to your phone, half convinced that maybe you should just call a toll truck when you see the headlights of Hanji's motorcycle as they speed down the road.

The light from the post shines above them and you can barely distinguish if they are an angel or a real person. As soon as their bike is parked behind your car, you exit the vehicle, running towards their embrace.

Their hair is still messy from having a helmet on and they hold a small toolbox with their left hand, but that does not stop them from hugging you as tightly as they possibly can. Their lips press against your head as the two of you remain like that for a while.

"Shhh, it's ok, my love," you can feel the smile in their voice, a gentleness like nothing you have ever experienced before, "Hanji is here to fix your problems."

"I truly appreciate you coming this fast," you whisper against their chest, "I genuinely thought my car would be able to handle the journey today but… I guess I was wrong."

"Did you have any trouble starting it this morning?" They pull back, their arm still wrapped around your frame. You think for a second, having trouble focusing on anything other than this panicky feeling in your chest.

Slowly, you begin to remember your day: you left work and the car started. You left for lunch and the car started. Clearly, it had started when you left home that morning… Didn't it?

"Oh shit…" You whisper while an embarrassed expression takes over your features. Your eyes shift towards the ground as you pull slightly further away to create a bigger distance between your bodies, too self-conscious to even look at them. "I couldn't get the engine to turn this morning. I had to start it, put it in neutral, and then start it again."

They nod, kissing your forehead once more as they stand in front of the hood of your car. You are still too embarrassed to look but you can hear the moment their toolbox touches the ground and as their hands pop it open. A few seconds go by as they begin tinkering with the metal inside, though your knowledge of cars isn't deep enough for you to fully understand what is going on.

You cross one arm against your chest while the other rests above your hand, your index finger tapping on your cheek while you can't help but take small nibbles on your thumb's nail. The anxiety inside of your chest never dissipates, nor the shame.

The morning had been nothing but a blur. You woke up late for work, forgot to eat or even bring anything to snack on until you had time to go to lunch, spilled water all over your car, and, to top it all off, it was raining in the morning. The engine not starting was just one of the many, many things that had gone wrong. You meant to text Hanji about it so they could meet you during your work hours and fix it but, of course, you forgot to charge your phone the night before.

You close your eyes and exhale, leaning against the car. Before you can get yourself into a frenzy, you hear Hanji's gentle voice pulling you out of the dark spiral you were about to send yourself into, "Okay, good news and bad news."

"Please explain it to me like I'm five," you say, shooting them an exhausted look and it causes them to chuckle quietly. "Bad news first."

"The alternator, or thing that charges your car battery, isn't properly working for some reason. Maybe because it's old, maybe it's faulty, but it for sure will not start working again, like, that thing is dead."

You nod, surprisingly following along with what they are telling you. You realize that all this knowledge comes from the previous times they have come to your aid or maybe from all the times they would check under the hood of your car before you left their house while the two of you still lived in separate households. Regardless, you turn your attention to them once more.

"I checked the fluid and the coolant and everything seems to be full and working ok. I ran some codes and nothing out of the ordinary popped up and lastly, I checked your oil." They say, wiping the grime out of their hands with a bleached towel, their face slightly sweaty, especially around the area where their glasses sit on their nose.

"Fuck… And the good news?" You ask, biting your nails even more, almost to the point of blood. With a gentle and concerned expression, Hanji takes a few steps forward, wrapping their dirty digits around your trembling palms, and only then do you notice just how short your nails have become.

"I can easily fix it. The last one we bought still has a warranty, so I can just change them." They whisper, placing a kiss against your fingers. A sense of despair fills your body again as tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, your lip trembling as you speak in a quiet yet pathetic voice.

"Please, don't leave me alone."

They sigh, running their hand over their messy hair. They look over to the open hood of your car and around the neighborhood, trying to think about what the best choice would be in this situation.

"The store is fifteen minutes away, on my bike, I'll be back in - "

"Please, don't leave me alone!!" You beg desperately, whatever is left of your fingernails now digging into the skin of their biceps, your eyes are wide open as tears stream down. You weren't that upset about the car breaking down, but just the intensity of all the feelings you had been holding back finally caught up to you the moment you realized you would have to be without them for even a second.

Hanji is taken aback by how sudden your response is, and how desolate you sound. They can see the anxiety written all over your features and it causes their heart to ache in their chest. That's the moment in which they realize just how many feelings you have been bottling, just how bad your week has been, and just how you have refused to talk to them about it.

Almost like they gain consciousness, their arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer to their body. In exchange, you bury your head on their chest, not carrying that their shirt is now covered in grime and sweat, even if it is chilly outside. "Is there anything you want to talk about?" They whisper, their lips pressed against the top of your head.

You want to shake your head, to put your walls up once more and brush it off as "just a bad day", but it was more than that. It had been a bad week, a bad month, and you had gone through it all by yourself, in silence. Crying in the shower but still putting on a smile when around them, your appetite barely exists but you still eat all of their cooking. But before you can deny anything, the tears begin pouring down your face once more, you cling to them like they are the last life vest on a sinking ship.

“I d-don’t know what is going on with me…” You gasp, hiding your face in a mixture of shame and search for comfort. “I just… I just want to be close to you at all times, I just never want to be alone and I just… Everything is too much and not enough, everything is going wrong. I…”

“My love,” they whisper, holding you slightly tighter with one arm. With their free hand, they prop up your chin, a gentle and warm smile taking over their lips once your eyes meet. “You don’t have to suffer alone, ok? I am here for you, no matter what, when, or where. I will always be by your side.”

“Good and bad?” You sniffle and they chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes as they lean down so their forehead is touching yours. They nod.

“Good and bad, my angel…” They whisper, their eyes closing as your noses brush together. You lean closer, your lips brushing against theirs so lightly that it nearly feels like a paint-filled brush against a canvas, working its way through a halfway-painted masterpiece.

Hanji gently presses your body against the car door, their grip on your waist is tight as they make sure to keep you safely in place. Your lips are half-open, temptingly wet in the dim light of the street pole, your face is stained with silent tears and the only thought going through their head? “I really need to kiss her.”

And so they do. They lean forward ever so slightly until there is no more room between the two of you. When your lips collide, you can’t help the quiet gasp that exists in your body, your hand gently resting on their cheek while your thumb brushes against the softness of their skin. 

You get lost in the warmth of their body, in how comforting it feels to have them pressed against you like this. Your nose brushes against theirs as your head tilts slightly to the side, the faint smell of coffee and menthol cigarettes still lingering on their breath as it mixes with the scent of the gum you had in your mouth earlier.

They nibble on your tongue gently, sometimes brushing the tip of their own against it and it’s enough to cause you to nearly melt in their arms. If it wasn’t for their strong arms holding you in place, you would have fallen to the ground into a puddle underneath their feet.

Neither of you wants to pull away, but the need to breathe is becoming stronger by the second. When you separate, your forehead rests against theirs, and your eyes remain closed as you enjoy the smell of their skin. Even if it isn’t a pleasant smell, it brings you too much comfort in this moment for you to care.

“I’ll call Moblit and he can come to help, ok?” They whisper, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You nod, lacing your fingers with the ones on their left hand while they pull their phone out of their pocket with the other. "I'll send him to the store and I will stay with you. You won't be alone, I promise."

As they speak to the man on the other end of the line, you can’t help but allow a small smile to form on your lips as you think about how lucky you are to have someone like them in your life. Someone willing to stop everything at the drop of a hat to come to rescue you when you need them most. 

As they blow you a kiss, you find yourself thinking about that one specific sentence once more, realizing that no truer words had ever been spoken:

“Hanji is here to fix all your problems.”

[ham-st4r]

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓽.2 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

📞Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing.

Genre: POS (phone sex operator) heeseung.

Summary: After your steamy call with Ethan, you find yourself thinking about him weeks later, and the temptation to call him was far too strong to avoid.

Number of words: 3,134k

Sorry for the wait this 🗑️ is definitely not worth it but i tried bro😔also probably a lot of mistakes but i couldn’t re-read it another time 💀

Pt.1

Find your way around!

Needless to say, heeseung had been thinking of you for the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately, you hadn’t called him again like he once thought you might of, and it may have been affecting him a little.

Who was he kidding? It was affecting him a lot, and he didn’t even really know why.

Every day, he was waiting on a call from you. Every time his phone rang, he was expecting to hear your sweet voice on the other end again, but alas, he never heard from you.

It was well past midnight, and he was still up taking calls. It was always busy for him around this time of night, but he wasn’t feeling up to it, so after a few more, he’d turn his active status to off.

His night was slowly but surely starting to come to a close a few hours later, so he figured he’d take one last call.

He let out one long sigh as he reclined on his bed. “Last one,” he mumbled to himself, getting into character before pressing the answer button. “Hello, sweetheart. How can I be of service to you tonight?” He says enthusiastically into his speaker despite not having any enthusiasm whatsoever.

You don’t even know why you were thinking of Ethan so much, but you just couldn’t help it. Maybe it was because he gave you that mind-blowing orgasm over the phone, or maybe it was because of how sweetly he talked you through it. Either way, he was still on your mind, and you could barely focus in class.

You contemplated calling him once you got home, but once you got there and, took a shower and sat comfortably on your bed with your phone in your trembling hands, you just couldn’t do it.

No matter how badly you wanted to, the idea just made you feel incredibly nervous and even embarrassed to an extent.

Especially after touching yourself and him hearing literally everything.

You cupped your warm cheeks in your palm, plopping down on your bed. “Ugh, what do I do?” You’ve been wanting to call him for weeks, but you know what: it’s now or never. Without thinking rationally, you sit up on your bed and press the call button, not giving yourself a second chance to regret your decision.

The first couple of rings went by, and you were going to hang up, but before you did, Ethan answered. “Hello, sweetheart. How can I be of service to you tonight?” Your whole body was literally shaking with nerves and a hint of excitement. He sounded just as heavenly as the first time you called him, or maybe even better.

Your mind went back to that night, thinking about when he guided you to bliss and came while moaning his name. There was a bubble of excitement forming in your stomach at the thought of reliving that night with him again.

Heeseung frowned when he didn’t get an answer. He looked at his phone, seeing that it was still connected, before trying again. “Sweetheart?” He called out softly, and he still didn’t get a response. Oddly enough, it reminded him of the night you first called. He remembered how shy and timid you were. Thinking back on it, he smiled at the thought of it, but then it clicked the timing, the timidness. Somehow, he just had a feeling that it was you, and he quickly sat up on his bed. “Angel?” He said, and his heart was literally pounding in his chest.

“H-hi, Ethan,” you mumbled out shyly into the speaker once you calmed yourself.

He melted the instant he heard your sweet voice. “Angel,” he said, sounding a bit too excited for you just to be another one of his customers, but he couldn’t help it. It was you. You had finally called him back after weeks. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispers softly.

He had only said a few words, but you already felt dizzy and drunk on his voice alone. “M-me too,” you nibbled on your lip and you didn’t realize it was possible to be this nervous on a phone call seeing how you’ve already done it before.

“Have you now?” He replies cockily, and there’s a slight teasing hint in his tone. “What about me have you been thinking about Angel?”

“Everything,” you answer simply, and he can hear your breath audibly shake.

“Ohh, come on, that’s no fun now, is it?” He chuckled at your vague answer, and somehow, even his laugh sounded hot to you. “You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about you?” He switches his position on the bed to a more comfortable one and rests his back against his headboard.

“Y-yes?” You answer unsurely.

“Angel, we’ve done this before. No need to be so timid,” he says, and evidently, he’d have to ease you into things like he did last time.

“Okay,” you breathe out, still not fully capable of answering him properly, but he doesn’t mind. The longer you stay on a call with him, the better.

“Are you sure you want to know all the things I’ve thought about it’s kind of naughty, angel.” he lowers his tone to a more seductive one and you’re still not sure how he does that so well everything he said made you feel so weak in the knees.

“Yes, I want to know,” you say softly as little tingles of anticipation fill your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he breathed into the speaker, and just the sound of his shaky breath was enough for the first glob of arousal to leak out and dampen your panties. It was embarrassing that just his voice alone could have you dripping. “I’ve thought about that sweet little pussy of yours and just how wet you got for me without me even being there” he bit his lip, thinking about that wonderful night he had the best orgasm of his life with you.

You whimper at his words, and before you could cover it, he had already heard it and was just as pretty as the first time he heard it.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” he swallowed thickly. “I wanted to be there with you so bad, teasing you, touching you, pleasuring you,” he hummed.

“Oh, Ethan,” you moaned his name as your hand traveled into your shorts, and you began rubbing yourself, too impatient to wait any longer.

“Would you like that, Angel?” He slowly laid on his back, resting his palm over his growing bulge.

“Yes,” you moaned quietly, and surely enough, all the nerves that had once controlled your body had completely dissipated, replaced with nothing but the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“Me too. I’d kiss and lick every single last inch of your beautiful body, trace my fingers over each dip and curve until you’re begging for me.” his eyes fluttered shut at the thought as he imagined caressing you and taking his time with you until you’re writhing in pleasure underneath him. “Till you’re begging me to push it inside,” he groaned while pressing down on the tent in his jeans.

“Fuck yes,” your eyes rolled back in your head as you pushed your panties to the side and started playing with your glistening folds. “I want it so bad, Ethan.” Your inhibitions were of none as you lost yourself in the feeling.

He couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of you getting more comfortable the longer he talked to you it made him feel a sense of pride that he was able to make you show that side of yourself to him. “I can tell, couldn’t even wait for me to give you permission before you started touching yourself. Hmm,” He scolded you teasingly.

“So s-sorry, Ethan,” you whined in embarrassment.

“I’m just teasing, angel, don’t apologize. I’m doing it too,” he breathed deeply, and you heard his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper. “Come on, angel, let’s do it together, yeah? Been waiting for you for so long.”

Your heart was in your stomach. Was he actually going to? Was he really thinking about you? Was he seriously waiting for you to call again? You decided not to entertain those thoughts cause, at the end of the day, this was his job, and he was acting. Of course, he wasn’t thinking of you the way you thought of him. “Okay,” you replied a little reluctantly.

“So, what have you been thinking about m-me?” He stuttered as his fingers brushed over his boxer-clad shaft.

This is the last thing you imagined you’d be saying, yet here you are, spilling your fantasies to a man named Ethan that you’ve never even met. “Your cock” you said so low he barely heard it.

He involuntarily twitched at your straightforward reply, not expecting you to say something like that so easily. “Yeah, angel? I’m stroking it right now just for you,” he whispered while caressing his length over his underwear, nice and slow.

“I wish I could do it for you,” you whimpered as you stuck a finger inside yourself, imagining it was his fingers instead.

“Me too, baby. I just know your hands would make me feel so good” he pulled his cock out of the teeny hole in his boxers, immediately swirling the head of his cock with his palm, impatiently spreading the wetness over his fully hardened shaft.

“I want nothing more than to touch your cock, Ethan,” you say boldly.

“You wanna touch me?” He unknowingly cocks his brow, trailing his hand lower as he squeezes his balls lightly before gripping the thick base of his cock and tugging on it softly.

“Hmm, mmm,” you moan softly, thumb gliding over your clit. “Wanna suck you too” You weren’t even under control of what you were saying the desire and lust you had for him clouded any and all of your better judgment.

“Naughty little thing, I see.” he laughs at the little whimper you let out, and that alone makes you clench around your finger. “It’s okay, Angel. Ethan wants it, too. Wanna feel your pretty little mouth wrapped around me. I’d do anything to feel you sucking me off so good till I cum down that precious throat. Tell me, angel, would you swallow for me? Tell me how good I taste on your tongue?”

“Hmm, yes, Ethan, I want to taste you so bad. Wanna feel your cum going down my throat,” you moaned carelessly, panting into the speaker as you added a second finger and started fucking yourself at a fast pace, the wet sounds of your pussy going straight into his ears. “I’d swallow it all for you.”

“That’s a good Angel can hear that pussys all wet for me wish I could fuck it, stuff you full of my dick, and cum inside you over and over again” At this point, he was so hard and turned on he couldn’t help but jerk his cock faster the sounds of your lewd moans and wet pussy wasn’t helping his case either, and he felt like cumming any minute.

“Yes, Ethan fuck need to feel you in my hand, in my mouth, inside of me just want you everywhere” You pushed your fingers as deep as they could go grinding your hips as you pressed the heel of your palm against your clit desperately fucking yourself to the sound of his voice and dirty talk.

“Fuck Oh my go- fuck angel,” he moaned loudly, relentlessly fisting his cock at your words. “You want that, huh? I’d give it to you so good, fill up your pretty holes cum in your mouth, and that fucking perfect little pussy, baby I’d give you it all just for being so good for me,” he grunts, the pace of his hand moving at an unimaginable speed as his high creeps up on him.

“Ethan!” You screamed, hand cramping up as you fingered yourself to the point of no return. “I’m cumming, I’m Cumming!” You moaned over and over again, feeling another orgasm coming as you kept going, not satisfied with just one.

“Ah fuck!” He threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and chasing his orgasm with you, his tip filled with precum that dribbled out with every stroke. “That’s it, my angel cum” he whimpers, seconds away from following your lead. “Cum for Ethan,” he grits his teeth, neck veins bulging out, and sweat covering his whole entire body as his hips jerk up off his bed. His eyes shoot open when the first squirt of cum spurts out from his tip. “Oh s-shit,” he whines, rubbing his cock so fast it felt raw, but it was too good to stop. “Cumming, I’m cumming” he pants, hand steadily rubbing out rope after rope of cum as it stains his chest and abdomen.

It didn’t take long at all for your second orgasm to build his voice, and the way he called you his angel had you coming undone embarrassingly quick. “Ethan, I have t-to-“ you mewled out, eyes and brows clashing together as you whimpered continuously, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “I’m cumming again,” you whine helplessly, rubbing your clit into overstimulation.

“Shit, angel again? Fuck go on cum for Ethan again” He squeezed his base tightly coaxing out every last dribble of semen. “Fuck” he whimpers, his whole body shaking violently from the intensity of his orgasm on top of the thought of you coming for him not once but twice.

“Ethan,” you whimpered softly, completely exhausted from having two mind-blowing orgasms in a row. “Feels so good,” you sighed in pleasure, caressing yourself down from your high slowly.

“Mhm, I know, angel,” he spoke softly, making the moment that much better as the waves of euphoria began to wash away from the both of you.

You hum, finally catching your breath, the faint throbbing between your legs settling as your eyes glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.

“Mhhm angel,” he whispers, spreading the copious amounts of seed over his shaft, stroking his length, and getting the most out of his orgasm until it begins to soften.

He was the first one to speak after your minds have had a chance to clear. “So…how was it?” He asks timidly, which isn’t like him at all, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but feel shy and self-conscious about his performance, especially cause with you, he wasn’t acting. You were getting the raw, unfiltered version. With you, he was just being himself, heeseung, but with everyone else, he was Ethan, the phone sex worker.

“Good,” you say shyly, which makes a wide smile spread on his face as he reaches for some tissues to clean himself, but there is so much cum that he doesn’t even bother. After a while, he just tucked himself away, opting to take a shower before bed.

“Just good? It didn’t sound just good,” he smirks while teasing you.

“Ethan, stop,” you giggle, and you hear him laughing, which makes you even more shy as you pull your blankets up to cover your chest.

“But I’m having fun, Angel,” he chuckles.

“You are?” You asked curiously cause everything all night sounded genuine, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up cause there’s no way he actually had fun talking with you, and there was definitely no way he came with you either, but something deep down inside you wanted it to be real so you asked with a tiny glimmer of hope that this wasn’t one-sided.

“Of course, angel, you’re gonna have to start calling me more often cause you made me wait too long,” he whines. “I missed you.”

“I will, Ethan. I missed you too,” you told him honestly, even though you knew he probably didn’t want to hear from you for real. You knew he was just saying that to make more money off of you, and the thought of having feelings for him kinda left a bitter taste in your mouth when you knew he didn’t care even an ounce for you. “Ethan, it’s late, so I think I’ll hang up now,” you said, feeling down even though you really didn’t have a right to. It was literally your fault for getting your hopes up and feeling any type of way about him in the first place.

“Already?” He frowned. “Why Angel? Just talk to me a little before bed, yeah?”

“I can’t…. I think I should just rest,” you whisper, feeling sleep knocking on your door. Plus, you didn’t want to talk to him longer. It’d only make you like him more, and ultimately, that would ruin your mood even more than it already is. After tonight, you probably wouldn’t call him again either cause. Apparently, you have a habit of getting attached to people who have no interest in you.

“Oh,” he mumbles disappointedly. He sucks in a breath happily, wishing you a goodnight even though he was bummed that he couldn’t talk to you longer. “Okay, well, I’ll hold you to it, angel, 'cause I really, really wanna hear from you again, okay?” He says sincerely, hoping you know he doesn’t want your money and that he genuinely wants to talk to you again soon.

“Okay,” you lie. “Goodnight, Ethan,” you yawned seconds away from sleep.

“Goodnight,” he says reluctantly, but if you were sleepy, he didn’t want to keep you up, especially since you probably had classes the next morning. “Sweet dreams, my angel,” he says just before you hang up.

He sighed softly cause a part of him wanted that call to last longer, not even for the money. Hell, at this point, when you called, he didn’t even see it as work or making money. It just felt oddly romantic in a way.

He knows it’s dumb, but when you called, he kinda felt like he was in a long-distance relationship with you, which again, he knows is stupid cause you didn’t even know him like that, but still, it was fun after a long day you’d call him, and you’d both make each other feel good like a real couple.

He just wanted to talk and talk about anything and everything with you cause your voice was so pretty, and you seemed so sweet. Maybe some nights when you called, you’d both fall asleep on the phone together or something like that.

He shook off the feeling, realizing that he was just being plain ridiculous, and went to take a shower even though his legs still felt completely numb after that mind-blowing orgasm.

Later that night, when he closed his eyes, he just hoped you’d keep your word and call him again tomorrow.

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

Permanent taglist 🔖 @hee-pster @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heehoonsnemo

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[letsquestjess]

Never Thought I'd Love Like This (Fox x GN!Reader)

Summary: When the data systems go down at the Coruscant Detention Centre, you are sent to collect the datapad records until the problem is fixed. While you are there, you catch the eye of Commander Fox.

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: None.

The grunt teeming at the back of Fox’s throat formed an irritated grumble. He jabbed at the monitor, cursing the infernal device as the same error message replaced the loading icon. He didn’t know why he thought another attempt would offer different results after hours of trying to send their morning reports. All he wanted was to submit the latest prisoner details to the network and get on with his day. Yet, that confounded crimson triangle halted every effort. 

“Have you tried resetting the system?” Thorn asked, setting a steaming cup of caf on the desk beside him. 

“Three times already,” Fox replied. “Kriffing reports just won’t send.” 

“Nothing is going through,” Stone confirmed from the screens over the opposite side of the office, four displays returning the same failure code and a fifth buffering before it, too, responded in kind. “Could be a signal issue.”

That was the last thing Fox needed. More problems to clear up. Many assumed the Coruscant Guard had a straightforward job; corral criminals, a bit of correspondence and form-filling, and a cup of caf to top it off. But the core world of the galaxy relished trouble, throwing curveballs on a daily basis to keep them sharp. He would happily do without the added disquiet, especially with seven more arrests called in overnight and holding cells running out, but their line of work afforded them no such luck. 

“Last time that happened, it only lasted an hour,” Thorn pointed out. “This has been going on all morning.” 

The side entrance unsealed in a gasp and shut again once it had admitted Thire, a wearied slump in his posture. “Okay, I have good news and bad news.” 

“Good news first,” Thorn pleaded. 

“Headquarters assured me the problem can be resolved.”

“And the bad news,” Fox pressed, removing his helmet and ruffling out his curls.

“It’s going to take a while to fix,” Thire replied. 

“How long?” 

“They’re not sure.”

“Was the system hacked?” Stone asked. 

“The engineers don’t know. They haven’t been able to find anything definitive yet,” Thire said. “Only thing they could tell me was that we are in this for the long haul, but they are sending representatives to each precinct a few times a week to collect datapads with the records and reports on them.”

Already depleted from a restless night and any chance of a quiet day quickly vanishing, Fox planted his face in his gloved hands. The rough fabric pressed into his forehead and the fans on the side of the data transfer system blew hot air onto his cheeks. 

“Could be worse,” Stone offered. “At least we don’t have to write them out and deliver them ourselves.” 

Fox rose from his slouch and frowned at his brother in arms, daring him to make another unhelpful comment. “Very practical, Stone. Thank you.” 

“Anything to cheer you up, commander,” Stone replied. He snatched a free datapad from the holder on the wall and collapsed into a swinging chair. 

“Our designated representative will be here this afternoon,” Thire said, handing the rest of the datapads out, “so we better get to work if we want everything correlated by the time they arrive.” 

* * *

A yawning shadow clung to the corridor that admitted you into the detention centre, the tube lights from the office directing a feeble wedge onto the floor and the obnoxious buzz of the laser-blocked entryway beside it casting an ominous red glow. You coasted into the silence and peeked into the window, trying the button on the frame when you found the place deserted. Your call went unanswered. 

Ruminating on what to do, you took a seat on the uncomfortable benches bolted into the wall facing the office. Nothing you could do without those datapads, and if the clones on duty were busy, the only option left was to wait. 

As the minutes floated by inside the cold quiet, you pondered the possibility you’d arrived at the wrong precinct. Your job never usually required you to visit this part of Coruscant, and deciding to double check, you rose to your feet to call your boss. Half-way through dialling in the communication number, a red and white armoured clone entered the office and granted you a cursory glance. 

“I was starting to worry I’d got the wrong place,” you admitted with an apprehensive chortle. The expressionless helmet stared, and you dropped the humorous approach. 

“Crime report forms are on the side,” he told you, waving vaguely in the direction of the paper pile on the corner of the counter. “Put it in the box by the door once you’re done, and we’ll contact you when we can.” 

“Oh, I’m not here for that. I’ve come to collect the datapads.” You wrested your identification from your pocket for him to verify. After a skim of the details, the lasers deactivated long enough for him to deposit the loaded crate just outside. You noted the symbol of the Coruscant Guard on his shoulder pauldron as he lifted himself back up. “Thanks. Have the requisition forms been completed too?” 

“Everything you asked for is there.” 

“Perfect.” A stable grip on the box, you hoisted the cargo up onto the counter and logged the pickup on your own datapad. With such sensitive information in your care, your superiors emphasised the importance of documenting where the records were at all times.

The clone guard returned to the office while you noted your location. By the time you finished, a second had joined him and stood expectantly by the window.  

“Take it you’re our representative,” he said. 

“That’s me,” you replied, introducing yourself with a pleasant smile and a friendly disposition. 

“I’m Thire. That’s Fox.” Thire jabbed a finger at the clone who’d greeted you. “Don’t worry about him. He hasn’t had his third caf yet, so he’s still grouchy.” 

Fox’s face remained obscured, but the tilt of the helmet conveyed the unimpressed scowl that undoubtedly lay beneath it.

“Nice to meet you both,” you said. “Do you need me to pass on any messages?” 

“If the engineers could hurry up fixing the problem, that would be great,” Thire answered. 

“I don’t think there’s going to be a quick turnaround on that, I’m afraid,” you told him. “Last I heard, two dozen server units were completely fried. It’s affecting droids too, so they’re prioritising getting their programming back up and running before the data systems.”

“What?” Fox demanded, abandoning the far monitor and storming to the window. He advanced so quickly and unexpectedly you intuitively retreated a step, and he reminded himself this was not your fault. “How long will we be waiting?” 

You shrugged, wishing you had a conclusive answer for him. “A few weeks, minimum, by my guess. Depends how bad it is and if they find anything else in the meantime.” 

Fox’s chest plate rose and fell in slow motions. 

“I’ll be back in a couple of days,” you told them. From the top pocket of your jacket, you withdrew a contact card and passed it under the small gap in the window. Thire took it from the collection hollow. “I’m your personal intermediary with HQ, so call me if you need anything.” 

“Thanks,” Thire said as you hauled the crate of datapads onto your hip and departed from the detention centre with a modest wave. He turned to Fox and threw the contact card in his direction, the disgruntled commander catching it without even looking and flinging it on the desk with the discarded paper notes. “I’ll get some caf on. It’s going to be a long few weeks.” 

In line with your duty, you arrived at the allotted time to collect the reports and ferry them to bleary-eyed administration assistants. Debates on the source of the shut down rapidly became incensed arguments at headquarters, the engineers at each other’s throats as they bickered over cause and solution. The people you had chatted with in passing or wished well on a birthday snapped at you and sent you on your way with a dismissive wave. 

Due to the volatile air of the main hub, you dawdled at the detention centre during pick up. If your colleagues were only going to snap at you for doing your job, why would you not want to stick around the clone troopers making you laugh and telling stories about each other? 

With each visit, they vied to impress you with tales and jokes, not that they needed to. You appreciated spending time with people who treated you as an equal. Regardless of the circumstances of birth or creation, the Coruscant Guard considered you one of their own. You were all on the same malfunctioning ship, and to them, you were another pair of hands stopping it from crashing. 

You sank into the familiarity, soon offering your own stories. Tales of an undesirable date from years ago turned into the entire office vowing to locate the unfortunate soul who’d upset you and tidbits of gossip swiftly became points of discussion. 

Over a month into your regular visits, you nudged the code into the panel with your elbow to deactivate the lasers and shuffled through before they revived into an electric buzz. Welcomed into the office, a fresh stack of records anticipated your arrival.  

You made your usual greetings to the clones within and parked the larger box on the ground, situating the smaller, wrapped carton onto the side. You set about slotting the datapads into the designated ports in the crate, mindful not to disturb the protective packaging. 

“What’s that?” Stone asked, motioning to the extra package you’d brought. 

“A gift for you all.”

“What kind of gift?” 

“Careful,” you warned as he reached for the twine keeping the decorated wrapping together. “It’s hot.” 

He acknowledged your warning and plucked at the string, folding away the paper. Steam rose from the thin cardboard parcel underneath and the robust scent lured in the other troopers. 

“Is that caf?” Thire asked, lifting his helmet and leaning over Stone’s shoulder to assess the contents of the box. 

“Sure is,” you confirmed, securing the loaded crate. “You mentioned your caf machine had broken, so I got you all some on the way here. There should be some pastries in there too. I hope they didn’t get squashed.” 

“Don’t care,” Stone said with a flaky treat already in his mouth and a cardboard cup in his hand. “Still tastes the same.” 

While the others indulged in a fresh caffeine wave and some sweet desserts, thanking you with a mouthful and a grin, Fox hovered by the selection of cream-filled pastries topped with melted chocolate and bright fruit. 

“I’d grab one of those if I were you,” you told him. “Otherwise, Stone might steal them all.” The clone in question wiped a blob of jam from his nose and, with a shrug, ate it from his glove, not one to waste food. 

Fox stared at the confectionery. “Why did you do this?”

“Does there need to be a reason to do something kind?” you countered. 

Your conversations up until that point had been limited, constrained to a few witty remarks to test each other’s mettle in the verbal sparring ground. A growing occurrence he silently relished. 

As he sought a reply, a quip of some sort to fire back, he discerned the temperate lilt of your voice, the lift of your cheeks as you smiled at him, and praised his lucky stars he had his helmet on. 

“Thank you,” he said, no snark or usual sarcasm. He grabbed the remaining cup of caf and beelined for the monitors before you could respond. 

Your wrist comm beeped and with a hasty goodbye, you grabbed the crate and made yourself scarce. Last thing you needed was a late drop-off and more scorn aimed your way. 

“You’ll have to remove your helmet to drink that,” Thire said to Fox as they waved you past the window and out into the Coruscanti chill. 

“I know,” Fox replied. “I’m waiting for it to cool down.” 

“Do you not want to because you’re embarrassed?” Thire teased. He bit into a cream pastry with a jibing grin. 

“No.”

“I can practically feel the embarrassment from here.”

“Shut up.” 

“Anybody would think you had a cru-“

“Not another word.” 

At the slice in Fox’s tone, Thire surrendered with raised palms. “Just saying. There’s little room for actual joy in our jobs, and if you’re happy, why not say something?”

“For that exact reason,” Fox shot back. No point denying anything now, not when he stupidly made his predicament so evident. The others probably knew. Kriff, did you know? He hoped not. “We are clones. There is no space in our lives for that kind of stuff.” 

Grumbling and wishing only to avoid the matter, Fox took off into the tangle of corridors behind the office. 

Thire regretted pushing. He wanted his brothers to be happy in whatever capacity it presented itself. But some drank from the Kaminoan fountain far too often and ingrained the belief that they were not permitted an existence outside of the Grand Army into every second of their lives. Others dared not dream of that kind of life, deeming it beyond their reach, many desperate not to tempt fate. 

Either way, Thire was no fool. He saw how Fox behaved around you and how you naturally lingered close to each other. He only hoped one of you would take that brave step towards happiness before you parted for good. 

Weeks melted into months, a routine falling into place with the Coruscant guard. You spoke of sweet treats, and holo-dramas, and rumours from the senate, each visit ending in promises to find out more or watch a recommended show. 

During one particular pickup, Thire proudly presented you with a keycard of your own, declaring you an honorary member of the guard. You never disclosed how you returned home that night and cried tears of joy, wiping them away while catching up on the news and spooning ice cream into your mouth to abate the heat beginning to overtake the cold. 

Scanning your card, you trudged into the office and deposited the weighty box by the door. Vacant chairs and the meagre clack of the air conditioning greeted you. At the inactive monitors, Fox mulled over his datapad. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, helmet abandoned by the printer and his dark strands dripping in front of his face. “It’s taking a while to complete this report.”

“No rush,” you assured him as you poured yourself a cup of cooled caf from the newly-acquired machine and drained half. “Could do with a rest. Management have had me all over the city this morning. Jaya called in sick and I’ve been covering her shift, and Daro has handed in his notice.” 

“I thought he was up for a huge promotion?” Fox replied. 

“So did I, but as soon as it was announced and he wasn’t on the list, he flung his resignation on the boss’s desk and stormed out. But there is some good news.” 

“Oh?” 

“The data system should be up and running by the end of the week, so this is my last visit.” 

The datapad in Fox’s gloved grasp slipped a few inches, and the concentration nesting in his brow tightened. With a rough clearing of his throat, he straightened from his seat and set about transferring the other datapads into the empty crate. 

Fox completed his task in reflective silence, evading your curiosity. You edged nearer and his movements slackened. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve grown attached to me,” you teased, deterring the grin as his throat bobbed involuntarily. 

With each repeated visit and every lengthier conversation, he eased into your company. In those hushed moments when the office was only occupied by you and him, you had both made admissions you never thought you would, speaking in confidence and reciprocal trust. 

“Course not,” the clone trooper replied, sealing the box with a weighty click. 

You pretended to go along with his guarded response and leaned against the side desk. “Have you got the requisition requests?”

“Yeah.” Fox reached over your shoulder to pluck the short list from the paper holder behind your head. “It’s just…” Realising his proximity to you, he paused. His amber regard lowered, meeting your own soft surprise. “Here.” 

His body stilled. He smelled the caf on you, the faint aroma of springtime surviving on your clothing, and the apple scented soap you used that morning. Your eyes invited him in, the slim parting of your lips drawing him closer. His train of thought bashed through the wall at the other end and kept going, abandoning him completely. 

You neither moved nor distanced yourself, locked onto him, powerless to look away. You tried, but that unarmed, tender expression that smoothed out the years of stress on his features held you captivated. 

Unsteady on your feet, you urged a hand to his chest armour. “I’ll miss coming here,” you admitted into the muted air between you both. 

“You can always call on us,” Fox replied, just as quietly. 

“Only prisoners or authorised visitors are allowed in the detention centre,” you reminded him. 

Head bowed, he acknowledged you were right. 

With a whispered touch, you coiled one of his deep curls around your finger with a smile so serene that Fox craved a taste. Intuition assuming control and aware of the fact he was breaking at least a dozen rules, he captured your lips with his, delighting in the heady rush that surged through him. He cupped your cheeks as soon as you responded in kind, bundling you into his arms. There was every chance his brothers would return from their lunch at any moment, but he did not care. He wanted to hold on to this feeling for as long as he could. 

Your lips remained slightly parted as you reluctantly separated, eyelashes fluttering open and drinking in the affection in his eyes. “The detention centre isn’t all there is,” you said. “We could meet up, right? If you have time.” 

Time was one thing Fox had very little of, most of it spent working for the good of Coruscant and the remaining hours exhausted at the barracks, training, resting, eating. But for you, he would scrape every second afforded to him. “I’ll make time,” he promised. “As much of it as I can.” 

* * *

Fox’s brow creased as he finished up the latest prisoner list, double checking the names and numbers before he submitted them into the network. 

“Don’t know about you, but the logging system seems to be quicker than it used to be,” Stone commented from his own desk. 

“I’m certainly not complaining,” Thire replied. “Although I think Fox wishes it had remained broken for a bit longer.” He aimed an arched eyebrow at his brother and snorted at the responding glare. “Lighten up.”

“Leave him alone, Thire,” Stone ordered. 

“Oh, come off it. You were the one teasing him when we found out about the kiss, and he’s been moping for weeks.”

“Thire. I mean it.” 

Thire sighed and reclined in his seat, landing his crossed ankles onto the surface and reclaiming his datapad to skim the news. Through the transparent screen and the protective window, he detected a flicker of movement. “I’ll be right with you,” he said, focused on more interesting matters. 

“Funny, looks to me like you’re reading the news.” 

At the sound of your cheery voice, the three guards scrambled to their feet, knocking into each other to check their ears weren’t deceiving them. 

“Hey,” Fox greeted. “Have you…. come to report something?” 

You met Fox’s surprise with a glowing grin. As stoic as he liked to act, a caring man lay beneath all that. 

“Only that management have decided to put permanent representatives in certain locations around Coruscant,” you answered. “Obviously, there’s no need to be ferrying datapads anymore, but they found other matters during the systems outage that call for a much more hands-on approach, especially when it comes to data handling.” 

“Does that mean you’re working here now?” Fox asked, the grizzle he normally carried softening. 

You nodded, unable to contain your elation. “I’ve been promoted to Coruscant Detention Centre Representative, so it looks like you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” 

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[instant-delusions]

hii omg may i request xavier smut where he comes home from a hunter mission and catches reader humping his pillow while wearing his hoodie? and it ends with him making reader ride his thigh/dick (or both! i can take him 🤗)

OOOOHHHH MY GOOOD! I LOVE THIS ONE SM 💗💗 I haven't proofread this much cuz it's exam season for me 😭

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢɪʀʟ ɢᴏɴᴇ ʙᴀᴅ!

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

xavier x afab! reader

cw: thigh riding, pillow humping, cursing

you were trashing in xavier's comfy bed, checking your phone every ten seconds to see if your boyfriend finally messaged you. though, unfortunately - nothing. pressing your power button to shut your phone, you see your pouting reflection.

obviously, you knew you were being melodramatic, xavier was off on a mission, and it is hardly realistic that he'll put up his hand, saying something like "hold on, wanderer. my gf texted me." it was impossible to deny you were craving his attention astronomically, though - seriously, look at you. you were in one of his white hoodies, breathing in his fragrance and cuddling his pillows with furrowed brows. it was almost pathetic.

groaning, you opened the messenger.

₊ ⊹

y/n: xavier when r u gonna be back??

₊ ⊹

nothing once again. sighing, you closed your eyes and laid back, his scent becoming more intense with every second of his absence. it reminded you of the times he leaned down to whisper things in your ear or when he nuzzled into your nape, like a golden retriever. breathing in deeply, your lungs filled with his green tea laundry detergent. you can't get enough of him, missing the feel of his weight against you, his lips on your skin, his voice, his hands, him, him, him - even if it's just hours he's gone.

it's almost surprising how quickly your neediness melted your brain, your warm body almost uncomfortable on the bed. figments of memories filled your mind, xavier in his hunter uniform, focused look and swinging his sword - confident in his strength. xavier carrying you to your apartment after one too many tequila shots. xavier kissing your shoulder with his hand on your naked waist. xavier squeezed between your legs, pupils blown wide with lust, his pale skin with a peachy blush. whining, you squeezed your legs together, feeling a familiar pang of pleasure in your lower stomach.

god, you feel dizzy with want, the line between appropriateness and shamefulness blurred. turning around, you got on your knees and grabbed the headboard with a hand and one of his starprint pillows to bring in between your legs. quickly, you got rid of your 'shorts' (one of xavier's boxers).

testing the waters, you roll your hips slowly, feeling how the pillow softly stimulated your clit. a soft gasp escaped your lips, thinking about how xavier has his head on this every day, sleeping innocently. another whine fills the room, and you bite down on your lip, smearing your pussy sloppily on the fabric. "fuck", you drag yourself up and down with a harsh arch of your hips, feeling the knot in your tummy tightening - the imagination of xavier beneath you painting your thoughts. a soft 'ping' comes from your phone, but you didn't hear it at all.

₊ ⊹

xav♡: almost there

xav♡: sry for not txting

₊ ⊹

you slowed your hips a little to drag out the pleasure, soaking the light blue pillow in your creamy liquid. humming a low "mmh" at the intense feeling, you barely even made out the clinking of keys, or the steps.

xavier just got into the apartment - noticing your shoes at the entrance, he smiled to himself, excited to see you. the mission was insanely exhausting, and he couldn't wait to feel you ease his mind. lazily, he took off his dusty, slightly blood-stained uniform and threw it somewhere on the ground, stepping through his apartment in boxers. suddenly, his ears quirked up, hearing whining from his bedroom. confused, he raised an eyebrow and quickly made his way over, opening the door without a second thought.

the sight he was greeted with got his jaw slacked - you in his hoodie, his pillow between your thighs and your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. for a few seconds, he just stood there with the doorknob still in his hand, drinking in the way your hips moved and then stilled with realization, you looked back at him with your mouth open.

"xavier?!" you exclaimed, face red and eyes wide with shock. said man got over his initial confusion quickly, his body tensing with the need to please you - it's like what he was born to do. with a few strides, he crawls onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and throwing it onto the floor. "Sorry, you seem to have missed me a lot. I'm here now, I'll make it up to you."

Your eyes fixed on him. You were barely able to comprehend what was happening, everything went by so fast. "Xav...?" he grabbed you by the waist, guiding you onto his naked thigh. Feeling his muscles flex under your soaked, panty-clad pussy had you moaning out, pathetically grabbing his arms in an attempt to ground yourself. "There you go. I'll take care of you." The hunter guided your hips up and down his thigh, feeling every crevice and bump of your cunt through your underwear. "What..." You started, eyes rolling back in pleasure. "What bout you?" you babbled on. "Don't worry." eyeing his growing bulge, seeing his cock needily strain against his boxers, you questioned his response. Though you definitely were not in enough control of your mind to do anything about it, but weakly grind against his thigh. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Xavier looks at you, thinking about how nothing is hotter than your face right now, mouth open, eyes scrunched in pleasure, your blush. Everything because of him, everything for him - with a smile, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand tightening on your waist. "That's it, cum for me, baby." he almost pleaded, leaning in closer to hover his lips over yours.

Instinctively, you caught them, kissing him feverishly while grinding on his thigh harder. With a few more chopped strokes of your hips, you started shaking with your orgasm, feeling like your soul fell down from the cosmos, right back into Xavier's bedroom. He pressed his lips to yours once more, smiling cutely at you. "Better?" he asks, rubbing circles on your back comfortingly. Weakly, you nod, letting your head fall onto his chest, your arms snaking around his middle.

"I missed you. Let's cuddle."

[hearts-4-vicky]

ೃ࿐ 𝐄𝐏 𝟎𝟏𝟎 ! (not proofread..)

prev . main . next

“ mhm okay bye somi love you too ” Hyunwoo says, her phone trapped between her ear and shoulder. Her hands full of gifts for Giselle and her members. She places the bouquet of flowers on the roof of her car to have a free hand to open the door. After placing all the items in the car , Hyunwoo sits behind the wheel and looks back to the flowers next to her

the drive to Giselle's company is short, filled with Hyunwoo singing along to random songs and swerving round that corner (woah oo woah king gelo)

She sent the younger woman a quick 'im here' before preparing to carry all the gifts once more. Looking at her reflection in the car window, she makes sure she looks decent enough for her 'wife' Satisfied, Hyunwoo starts walking over to the entrance of the SM building. Before she could even attempt to open the door, someone beats her to it and smacks her right in the face

" ghk- " Hyunwoo bites her cheek to prevent the curse words that were about to spill from her mouth

" Oh! I'm so sorry!- Hyun...? " The woman looks down and sees Red Velvet's leader, Bae Joohyun

" hi sunbae.. how ya doing? " Hyunwoo chuckles, before looking around, " could i come in now? "

" of course, come on. " Irene makes space for the taller woman to enter, she starts to walk in front of Hyunwoo to guide her through the building. They both stand near the elevators, waiting for it to arrive. There's an awkward silence between the two, Irene decides to break it

" you're not here to meet me, right? " she questioned, looking up at Hyunwoo, awaiting for her response

" i mean- no.. you already made it clear i had to stop doin that " Hyunwoo looks away

" oh. well, i- " " it's fine sunbae, 'm jus here for giselle we won't have to interact after this, promise " She interupts the older woman, already knowing what her reply would be. The tension comes back though its quickly broken again with the 'ding' of the elevator, both women walk inside

" giselle huh? so all that stuff is for her? hm. let me show you to her practice room " Irene presses a button and stares at all the items in Hyunwoo's possession

" i got her members stuff too.. "She tries to defend herself but the older woman just scoffs in response

" how thoughtful. " crossing her arms, she looks over to Hyunwoo again " so we're done then? "

" what? " Hyunwoo furrows her eyebrows, " sunbae- you led me on, you don't get to act like i just left you for another woman. "

" So- " The elevator interupts her, Irene walks out first, gripping Hyunwoo's wrist and dragging her through the empty halls of SM

Hyunwoo zones out, letting the older woman do whatever she wanted but not without wondering how this even happened

Shes brought back to her senses with the sound of Irene's knock. Within a couple of seconds, the door opens to reveal the 4 members of aespa

" unnie? what- " Jimin starts to say, before being cut off by Irene " just dropping off.." she pauses, looking back at Hyunwoo, " someone. " The named woman gulps at this, already feeling uncomfortable from all the eyes on her

" thank you for guiding her, unnie. " Aeri says, glancing at her 'wife'

" of course. she tends to get lost, be careful with this one " Irene spins on her heel, tugging Hyunwoo's collar to bring her to her height

" we'll talk later. " with that, she walks away without another word

Hyunwoo presses her lips into a thin line before looking back to the aespa members

" hi... " she smiles awkwardly ( ho is a loser omg )

" hey cutie! come inside " Jimin smiles back at the woman, opening the door wider so she can enter , ( hyunwoo doesnt notice ning slapping jimin's arm )

Aeri looks at Hyunwoo's hands, " Are those for me..? " tilting her head at the taller slightly

'oh fuck. she's prettier in person' Hyunwoo quickly hands her the bouquet , " yeah- uh yknow pretty girl for flowers? " she nearly slaps herself upon hearing what just came out of her mouth, she hears minjeong trying go suppress her laugh

Hyunwoo looks back to Aeri, fixated on the flowers in her arms

" Did Somi help you with this? " she says looking at her playfully, opposite to her cold replies from earlier

" Uh- no.. i picked those ones out cause they reminded me of you " Hyunwoo quielty states, not able to meet the japanese woman's gaze

Aeri stammers for a second , not expecting such a response " thank you, and i guess those are for my members, right? " her eyes softening just a bit, if Hyun wasn't paying attention, she wouldn't have caught it

" yeah, let me hand it to them " She replied, feeling a bit flushed at the way Aeri looked at her

Hyunwoo quickly walks over to the couch the girls occupy, placing the snacks on the table in front of them

" i got you guys some stuff.. kinda just guessed on what you liked, so sorry about that " She throws up a lame thumbs up and grins at them

" thank you, you're so generous, somi unnie's lucky to have such an.. amazing friend " Ning looks up at Hyun with something she doesn't really know how to describe, but she watches as the chinese girl makes her short tank top even shorter somehow

Minjeong slaps Ning's stomach, causing her to yelp, " yah! dont be a homewrecker! " her laugh echos through the room

Hyunwoo feels a presence behind her and arms hugging her bicep

" stop being a jealous hussy Ning " Aeri leans her head on Hyun's shoulder, " She's mine " she says with a playfull smile, fidgetting with the taller woman's fingers as Ning tries to defend herself

" Hey! im not jealous, im not even doing anything! "

" mhm keep telling yourself that " She giggles, before bringing Hyun's hand closer to her face

" you have pretty hands, Hyun " She looks up at the woman, her smile bright , " are these from chrome hearts? "

Hyunwoo opens her mouth, but no words come out

" Aeri-yah, you're breaking the poor girl . . " Jimin laughs, already opening a bag of chips

" shes cute, no? " Aeri ignores the leader's comment looking at Hyunwoo again

" hah.. thanks giselle " Hyun says, " but um we have to yknow- get going and stuff so maybe we could have dinner together soon? with both groups since we'll be working closely together.. " she trails off

" oh thats perfect! we have an off day tomorrow, what about you guys? " Minjeong exclaims, nearly jumping out of her seat

" tomorrow as well, guess i'll see you guys again " Hyun smiles at the members of aespa then looking back to Aeri, " ready? "

" mhm, come on let's go! " she intertwines their fingers and waves goodbye to her members

.

.

.

taglist(open!): @bunnywonyo , @yjiminswallet , @aloneinacity , @gtfoiydlyj , @meiphobic , @goofymickeyr , @hazel-tanthamore22 , @yuyuyuuuuchlo , @setthenetanddrool , @spidrgamer , @kristalag @slayhaechan

authors note : ok ex talking stage😣 bye i love irene she would NAWT act like this its just for the plot... and why js tbis ep so long who let me write thid.. WHY DID I DECIDE TO MAKE THSI SLOWBRUN I WSNT THEM TO KISS FSWKKKKK IM SK DKNE anyway um hi guys im back again!!! who missed me? [crickets] wow okay.

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 9 (FINISHED SERIES, final chapter)

        

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, nonconsensual drugging, minor implication of necrophilia, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 14,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, final chapter (current).

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

        (Y/N) arrived at the hospital feeling refreshed for the first time in a long while. She’s had a couple weeks to heal from her accident, and she was paid the whole time too! 

        Now she’s back at work and ready to get back to it. She fixed the star patterned lanyard around her neck and fixed her undershirt’s long sleeves. 

        She exited her car and locked the door, walking into the hospital lobby. She walked to the elevators and pressed the button for pediatrics. When the doors opened, she left the elevator and walked into the staff room, checking in. 

        She made her way to Doctor Ryan’s office and waited a moment to make sure there was no patient in the room before knocking. The door opened as Doctor Ryan’s head peeked out, a confused expression on his face before his eyes widened.

        “Oh my god! Hey!” he smiled, quickly opening the door all the way. “Come on in!”

        “Hi, sir.” (Y/N) smiled. “I’m back and ready to work!”

        “That’s great! These weeks felt so strange without you.” Doctor Ryan spoke. “Do you understand how hard it is to try and talk with Ruby? God, she bores me.” He groaned, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

        “Yeah. Ruby’s just Ruby.” (Y/N) smiled.

        “So, how are you feeling?” he questioned. “You’ve had enough time to heal up, right?”

        “Yep.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling. “I’m perfectly fine! I’ll be having my staples and stitches removed after work today.”

        “That’s great to hear!” Doctor Ryan beamed. “Just take it easy, okay? Don’t go lifting any heavy things like chairs or stuff; I can do that. And take some sitting breaks.”

        “I’m fine, it wasn’t that bad.” (Y/N) reassured, albeit she did feel warm inside knowing her superior was worried about her. “It stopped hurting after a few days, so it was just letting the wounds heal over.” She lied.

        “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Doctor Ryan smiled. “Oh, before I forget!”

        He moved over to his counter, bending down and unlocking the lock on the cabinet before opening it, pulling out a basket. The small basket had some packets and wrapped candy bars, along with fake orchids.

        "I got you some chocolates and flowers! If you're allergic to coco or milk, I have this replica of hot chocolate powder that tastes like hot chocolate, but doesn't have any milk or coco! People are so smart nowadays!” Doctor Ryan explained. “Oh, and don't worry, I checked with the missus first, so she won't be mad at me!" Doctor Ryan cooed over his wife.

        “Tell her I said thank you. And thank you to you too.” (Y/N) smiled, accepting the basket and placing it on the counter. “But you didn’t have to do this. I was only gone for about two or three weeks.”

        “I never realized how much I enjoyed your company around this place.” Doctor Ryan sighed. “I mean, seriously. Ruby could never.” 

        “What about Agatha?” (Y/N) questioned. “Wasn’t she here?”

        “Taking vacation. She just divorced her husband, so she’s sunbathing in the Bahamas.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        “About time.” (Y/N) scoffed. “Her husband was a dick and all he knew was how to use it.”

        “Careful, don’t let our boss hear that.” Doctor Ryan chuckled. “That’s potty language.” 

        “Oops.” (Y/N) hummed, though she wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

        “Ready for today? We have six scheduled, and walk-in’s from there.” Doctor Ryan explained, picking up his computer. “First one comes in 20 minutes for an annual check-up and flu shot. Let’s get everything situated.”

        “Yes, sir.” She smiled.

She picked up antiseptic spray and wiped down the examination table, replacing a new paper sheet on it so no accidental snot or blood spills could infect the cushions, before looking at Doctor Ryan.

        “Excuse me, sir?” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Yes?” he hummed, arranging the pan with a antibacterial wipe, a lidded-syringe vaccine, a cotton ball and a bandaid. 

        “Do you think it’s possible for me to continue my education online? Or transfer to another Treegrowth hospital program somewhere else?” she questioned.

        “What? Why?” Doctor Ryan questioned, stopping what he was doing as he looked over to her.

        “I’ve been wanting to move out of the city lately, but I’m worried about my education.” (Y/N) lied. “I still want my degree after all.” 

        In truth, she wanted to leave the city. Even though she hid Penelope’s body, once it’s found a search will be conducted. After that, they’ll see Andrew on the cameras, and it’ll be game over for him. 

        (Y/N)’s not safe either. Considering she led Penelope out of the store to the alley with no cameras, and came back without her jacket alongside Penelope not following her; it’s safe to say she’s a prime suspect. 

        So I got rid of that jacket for nothing… (Y/N) mentally sighed. 

        Well, it wasn’t entirely for nothing. At least it kept people from getting suspicious so far. She would’ve had the police called on her if she walked into the store wearing blood (whether she entered wearing the blood or not, and she’s unsure if she could’ve used a fashion excuse). 

        It’s at least given her some time to plan other than immediately going to jail.

        It doesn’t help that not only was (Y/N) seen on the cameras last with Penelope and Andrew was in the store too, but it’s safe to say that seeing the two enter and leave together is more than enough evidence that the two are “working together” (the police will say).

        She highly doubts she can place the blame on Andrew for “blackmailing” or “threatening her life” her to where she had to kill Penelope. It just wouldn’t be believable with Andrew in a wheelchair and (Y/N) willingly buying clothes and food for him.

        As shitty as it’ll be, she’ll have to move. She can’t move back to her hometown considering: one, her parents are dead; two, Ren might still be living there and she’s not risking it.

        However, the family farm is back at home and if Rose wasn’t lying, then it’s now in (Y/N)’s name. She’ll receive a letter in the mail in a few weeks regarding her parents wills’, but for now she’ll have to brainstorm somewhere else to stay.

        It shouldn’t be hard to find another apartment on the other side of the city considering how shitty this place is, rent would probably be low or at least decent too. 

        She could almost laugh at her luck. Maybe there is a God who favors her—it’s about damn time considering how much she’s suffered for this. 

        “Move out of the city?” Doctor Ryan questioned, sighing. “So I take it you’re not taking over my night shifts…?”

        “Sorry…” she smiled sheepishly. “My boyfriend and I want to move someplace bigger, so we’re looking outside of the city.”

        “Wait? You have a boyfriend?!” he gasped, almost dropping the pan of needed medical supplies.

        “Yeah… we've been together a year now. Met him in a library at the beginning of college.” She smiled.

        “Oh, that’s great! I didn’t know this but that’s great!” he laughed. “Whats his name?”

        “And—... A-Andes.” (Y/N) hummed, smiling as she lied.

        “Whats he look like?” he questioned.

        Oh, his hair as luxurious as a raven. His eyes are as green as lush bushes from Iceland. His skin is as pale as winter’s first snow. His smile might as well be Cupid’s bow striking an arrow through my heart. She thought.

        “Honeypot brown hair and eyes like roasted chestnuts during Christmas.” (Y/N) cooed, almost cringing at the thought of speaking about another man (even if they were just imaginary).

        “Sounds like a dreamboat.” Doctor Ryan teased. “Reminds me of me in my young years.”

        “You’re only 10 years older…” (Y/N) pointed out.

        Even if he was older, sometimes it felt like she was more mature between the two, but it’s probably a persona for work considering they work with children. (Y/N) doesn’t hang out with Doctor Ryan outside of work since he’s her professor, so she's not aware of his home persona; however, she doesn't really care on finding out. She likes this Doctor Ryan the way he is, and she'd feel terrible if her superior knew the kind of person she actually was outside of these pastel nursing scrubs. 

        “Well, you still have a year left for your degree…” Doctor Ryan explained. “I can talk with our educational board later, but I don’t see why it’d be a problem. You do your research and send in your homework on time, and you do good during manual instruction too… so you’ll just have to go to another Treegrowth hospital and work with one of the pediatricians there.”

        “Thank you.” (Y/N) smiled, letting out a relieved sigh. 

        “Speaking of school, you don’t have to worry about those research papers assigned over your resting period. I’ll extend the deadlines.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        “Oh… thank you, sir.” (Y/N) smiled, surprised.

        She had completely forgotten about those papers, she was busy doing other things during her break, such as spending days planning her next move and while keeping a low profile (and thinking of dinner plans to make sure Andrew was eating too).

        Over her break, she had removed Andrew’s staples on his ankles and started helping him with physical therapy for his legs. It might be a few months before he can run, but he’s been shown to stand and walk for short periods at a time, so she’s not too concerned in something going wrong during his recovery. 

        She also got rid of her own stitches and staples, avoiding the emergency unit of the hospital too so no doctor can try and schedule a check-up with her. 

        She made sure to visit Ashley and place some flowers in her memoir. Now, she couldn’t place them exactly where the grave was in risk of someone potentially finding the suspicious sight and reporting it to the police, so she settled for placing them on the trail’s entrance. 

        She visited Ashley’s grave and apologized for her harsh words nights ago, remorseful for blaming Ashley for her struggles. It wasn’t her fault, and it probably wasn’t her demon’s fault either; it was something (Y/N) did to herself and she had to take responsibility.

        Worrying so much about Andrew, Ashley, and what to do after Penelope death, she’s completely forgotten about her college papers.

        “I’ll go get the patient and get his growth developments.” (Y/N) smiled, walking out of the room. 

        (Y/N) left the room and let out a sigh.

        Maybe killing Penelope was a terrible idea; unlike Ashley, Penelope’s home was here! While Penelope didn’t have any family, she did have co-workers. Soon enough they’d grow suspicious and call the police for a wellness check eventually (it’s not like they’d be investigating the hospital and its illegal methods, so that’s not a concern). 

        Penelope could be reported missing tomorrow and it wouldn’t take long for a missing person paper to come out. 

        It was almost frustrating really for her to have gotten caught up in her emotions. She used to be so good at bottling them up, but recently it seems like there's a hole in her bottle at the bottom that causing all her emotions to pour out quickly. 

        It made her want to scream and shout, but she couldn't do that at her job, so she resorted to kicking the floor's baseboards lightly and silently screaming as she pulled her lanyard around her neck, strangling her. 

        Well, it's better Penelope is dead. She won't be a threat to Andrew anymore.

        That thought made her feel a bit better, causing her to stop her silent tantrum and readjust her lanyard.

        She had a patient to meet and make sure nothing was wrong with the kid. She met with the receptionist, taking a patient's clipboard of information they filled out in the waiting room for Doctor Ryan. She opened the waiting room door and smiled, reading the patient's name. 

        "Zoe Hoops?" she read. "Follow me, please." 

        .

        .

        For the first time in who knows how long, (Y/N) felt excited leaving work. 

        Work for (Y/N) was an escape. Instead of worrying about her problems, she’d worry about someone else’s. Even if she still has problems, it felt good being able to leave work with a smile on her face.

        Nothing went wrong during her shift. Nobody died. Zoe didn’t cry during her flu shot, she’s getting very big now. George sprained his ankle but he was walking like a champ. Nelly got discharged after her fight with a RSV. Tom and Jerry played trains in the hallways and are said to be discharged soon. 

        It felt nice being bit by the harsh autumn air, knowing that winter was coming up.

        It felt nice walking out of the hospital doors, even if her feet ached and there was a sore spot in her back.

        It felt nice seeing the sun rising, brightening up the city and her mind with a new light.

        It felt nice driving home, knowing for the first time that someone was actually waiting for her to come home.

        It felt nice feeling the heated air from the apartment as she opened the door. All the locks were undid; Andrew must’ve kept them unlocked for her.

        There’s a chance he went back to bed since all the lights are off. She quietly closed the door and locked all five locks on the door. She didn’t bother turning on a light as she planned on going right back to bed after her 12 hour shift, placing her purse down on the hallway table in the dark.

        She walked into the living room, opening the curtain and checking the locks on the window to make sure none were loose or unlocked. She finished that window and walked to the knife one, only to feel a rough push. 

        She was knocked to the ground with a thud, landing on her back and quickly on alert. A short yelp leaving her as she got pinned to her carpeted living room floor. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she squirmed and kicked, trying to kick off her assaulter as she hit and scratched. 

        It was Andrew.

        .

        .

        Bored would be an understatement. Andrew was practically dead as he looked through the category of movies he was illegally pirating. 

        What? Don't judge. Nobody wants to spend $10 on a movie they're only going to watch once or twice. If you bought a new movie every day to watch in a 30 day month, you'd have spent $300 on movies alone in a single month. He'll take the money saving option and $10 a month for VPN. Besides, (Y/N) was the one that showed him this site on her TV.

        He browsed through the movies mindlessly before picking a Ryan Reynold's movie called Waiting...

        He watched the movie with a neutral expression. The jokes really weren't really that funny when he couldn't hear (Y/N) laughing in his ear at them. He wished she was here with him right now. He wondered if she'd laugh at the inappropriate jokes, disgusted at the cook's handling rude customer's food, or sympathize for Calvin's fear of peeing outside of his home's bathroom. 

        Maybe he'll watch the movie with her when she gets home from work. He really couldn't be bothered to focus on this right now. 

        A thought crossed his mind as he thought: damn, was it really this hard to watch a movie alone before? He doesn't remember needing Ashley's commentary on every piece of media he's consumed, yet with (Y/N) it feels like he needs her approval or disproval before he can decide if he likes something or not.

        He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch cushion, before noticing the open front door at the corner of his eye. He immediately stood up, alarmed as he carefully walked over to the door, peeking outside to see if anything (or anyone) was there.

        Nobody.

        He closed the door, leaning his weight on it. He couldn't walk far or stand long, his ankles having a small ache to them still. 

        (Y/N) didn't leave the door unlocked, he remembered watching her leave for work and locking the door behind her. She had cooked him breakfast as he complained about wanting to sleep in with her longer, clinging onto her waist from behind as she cooked him waffles. It was 2 AM, at least six hours until (Y/N) would return home, he remembered her telling him. She had left her phone number on the refrigerator for him to call if he needs her (he's been pondering if he should.

        Andrew knows she takes security very seriously. He's seen her check her window and door locks every morning when she wakes up and every night before bed. A paranoid little thing she is, but he thinks that's good considering this city isn't a very good place to live in. He would rather she be overly paranoid than overly careless. 

        He re-locked the five door locks on her door; a bullock, a chain-lock, a sliding lock, a deadbolt, and a classic handle lock. He hopped into his wheelchair and spent the time re-checking all her window locks (three in total on each window).

        She must've spent hundreds to maybe even a thousand on all her security, it's a miracle she doesn't have cameras in her apartment too. Maybe she's cautious of digital security. He noticed she uses VPN's, fake emails and usernames that's not her name, uses no social media, and weekly changes her passwords. 

        He's not sure why she's so paranoid, but he'd rather wait until she's ready to speak. She's already done so much for him, housing him, feeding him, buying him clothes, taking over his hospital bills, and even letting him sleep in her own bed—he'd do anything other than make her mad at him, not when he's living life so good.

        He has to start looking for a job. There's no way he can work in person, maybe he can be a teleprompter for an insurance company or something... The both of them did agree that he'd live with her so long as he pays her back eventually; and he's not too sure he can repay her with chores and homemade food like a househusband...

        He heard a drawer shut somewhere in the apartment, immediately alerting him. He got in his wheelchair and rolled over to the kitchen, grabbing a large cleaver.

        Ah, memories.

        He quietly strolled down the hallway, cautiously looking around before noticing the bedroom door was open. He remembered (Y/N) closing it before work, so Andrew just spent his time on the living room couch waiting for her to return to him.

        It'd be nice if he had a gun in case it was another hitman who his parents hired to finish the job, but he doubts (Y/N) casually has one lying around. 

        The door was cracked open, so he took a breath before opening it all the way. The door was loud and creaky, something (Y/N) intentionally made sure of.

        There was a man rummaging through her drawers, hunched over as he looked through her bedside drawer, snatching something before putting it in his pocket. He had blond hair, a black button down shirt and blue jeans, classy and uncovered for someone who breaks into an apartment. 

        A robber?

        "What do you think you're doing?" Andrew questioned, already annoyed. He really didn't want to go through anymore drama in his life. 

        The man looked over his shoulder, though his expression didn't seem surprised, but excited as he smiled. His hand moved from the drawer and pulled a gun, aiming it at Andrew.

        Fuck.

        "Bang!" the man exclaimed, pulling the gun's trigger.

        Nothing.

        "No bullets." He smiled, chuckling as Andrew clutched his chest, practically half-dead from a damn near heart attack.

        "Jesus, fuck..." Andrew hissed, holding his chest where his erratic heart was beating. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

        "Ren. It's nice to finally meet (Y/N)'s pet. Andrew, right?" The man, Ren, smiled as he placed the gun down into her drawer, closing it up. 

        "How do you know our names? Have you been watching us?" Andrew questioned, ignoring the man's mocking words. 

        There's no point in being hostile. He's not so sure he can win in a fight without his legs, and the confidence this man is oozing is really making Andrew second-guess himself, almost like he was the one in the wrong instead. 

        "Right. Let's get to the point." Ren hummed, plopping down on (Y/N)'s side of the bed, picking up the pillow and sniffing it.

        Andrew felt his eye twitch, enraged and disgusted at the scene in front of him.

        "I'm Ren. I'm (Y/N)'s childhood friend from church and I'm her husband." Ren smiled.

        "Husband?!" Andrew exclaimed.

        "Oh, right. Soon-to-be-husband. I just gotta propose and take her back home and yada-yada, you don't wanna hear our sappy love story." He laughed, waving his hand in the air. 

        "Stop the bullshit. What the hell are you doing here?" Andrew snapped, watching as Ren squeezed (Y/N)'s pillow to his chest.

        "Oh, just checking in." He smiled. "Yeah. I have a hotel around here. Only for a week though!"

        "What do you mean 'checking in?'" Andrew hissed, making quotations with his fingers.

        "Checking in!" Ren smiled, gesturing to a poster in the room.

        The poster was of one of her favorite bands. Upon closure inspection, Andrew noticed a small hole, a black reflection peeking right back at him. A camera.

        "Hey, what the fuck?!" Andrew exclaimed, swirling his head to face Ren. "Why the fuck is there a camera?!" 

        "Oh, I just installed that! It's even smaller with audio too! Oh, has technology grown over the years! It makes my job so easy." Ren gushed, acting as if nothing was wrong.

        "What job? Stop ignoring my damn questions!" Andrew hissed, strolling closer to Ren. 

        He grabbed Ren's collar, forcing Ren off the bed and holding him down to Andrew's eyesight as Andrew gritted his teeth. A dark storm as he looked at this strange man who decides to waltz in his home, sit on his girlfriend's bed, hug hisgirlfriend's pillow, place a camera in his girlfriend's room.        

        "I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't leave my home right now..." Andrew spat out, a harsh glare in his eyes.

        "Your home?" Ren laughed. "It's not your home, silly! It's under (Y/N)'s name!"

        "Do you wanna die?" Andrew snipped back.

        "Oh please, you're wheel-bound." Ren chuckled, his brown eyes challenging Andrew's green eyes. "Besides, you're very lucky I haven't killed you yet; especially when you've been sleeping with my girl." 

        "Your girl?!" Andrew exclaimed, his head butting into Ren's, ignoring the sting as his hands shook, itching to punch Ren's teeth in. "She's mine! You stay the hell away before I fucking gut you!" 

        "I love your enthusiasm, but you don't love her." Ren laughed, patting Andrew's shoulder as if consoling a child.

        Andrew quickly wound his fist, gathering momentum before punching Ren's face.

        Ren's head knocked back, hitting the mattress as a trail of blood poured out of one of his nostrils. He quickly sat up, clutching his nose.

        "Ha. Ah... I'll let that slide..." he breathed out through his mouth, his eye twitching in a sign of annoyance. "See... I'm not here to hurt anyone. That's already over." He spoke, grabbing a tissue from tissue box next to (Y/N)'s bedside for sick days. 

        "What do you mean 'it's already over?'" Andrew questioned.

        "Her parents?" Ren smiled, tilting his head to the side as he plugged his bleeding nose with the tissue he grabbed. "The (L/N)s?"

        "What did you do?" Andrew demanded, grabbing Ren's collar once more. 

        "Haven't you heard? They're dead!" Ren smiled.

        "I know that! I mean, what did you do?" Andrew groaned, impatient with Ren's childish demeanor. 

        "Well, I killed them!" Ren chirped. "Well, I didn't directly kill them, but I played a part in it." 

        "Spill it out! How?" Andrew snapped, annoyed as he shook Ren's collar.

        "I hired a hitman. Quite pricey too! He just crashed an auto-driving car into a gas tank and blew the couple up!" Ren explained.

        "W-what?" Andrew questioned, shocked. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

        "Well, they were no use to me anymore!" Ren laughed. "When they finally left that farm to go visit (Y/N) in years, I knew it was finally time! I had been following them for years, so when I saw their car drive out of town I knew they were going to see her! My AirTag told me where they were."

        Andrew's heart dropped, surprised and disgusted at the man in front of him. How dare he lay his eyes on (Y/N)? How dare he stalk her?

        "So when they led me here, I had (Y/N)'s address and knew where she was, so they were of no use!" Ren smiled. "Oh, tricky little thing! I'll give her credit, she escaped my radar—but she's back now~" Ren laughed, his bloody tissue started to overfill with blood as it traveled lower and lower into the tissue white cotton, tainting it with crimson. 

        "So... you've been after her this whole time?" Andrew questioned. "Why? Is it the farm's money? What do you want from her?" 

        "Her." Ren smiled. "I want her. Such beauty shouldn't be for just anyone to see."

        "What makes you think only you can have her?" Andrew snapped.

        "What makes you think you can have her?" Ren retorted. "She was mine first! I had her before you did!"

        "Well she's mine now!" Andrew hissed. "Besides, she likes me better than you. She chose me after all."

        That earned him an uppercut, biting his tongue as he rolled back in his chair away from Ren, grabbing the cleaver in his lap and holding it as he gritted his teeth.

        "Oops. You seemed to have upset me for a second..." Ren chuckled. "I will not apologize; however, I have a deal."

        "Shove it up your ass!" Andrew exclaimed.

        "It involves Ashley." Ren hummed.

        Andrew's grip on his weapon immediately loosened, hesitantly lowering down onto his lap.

        "A-Ashley...?" he questioned. "My sister? You know her?" 

        "Knew her." Ren scoffed. "She's dead." 

        Andrew's heart dropped for what seemed like the umpteenth time. He stood up his full height, towering Ren's 5'9" body with his 5'11" self. He grabbed Ren's collar and knocked him back onto the mattress, seething as he glared at Ren.

        "What the fuck did you do to her?! I'll fucking kill you!" Andrew shouted.

        "Wait! I didn't do it this time!" Ren gasped as Andrew started choking him. 

        "Then who else?!" Andrew hissed. 

        "(Y/N)!" Ren exclaimed. 

        "(Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, his grip loosening on Ren's neck. "Explain."

        "Look in her bedside drawer." Ren hummed, tilting his head to the cabinets he was rummaging through earlier.

        Andrew hesitated, before letting go of Ren's neck. He fell back into his wheelchair, before reaching over and opening the cabinet, surprised as he held his breath.

        In the drawer, there was a small box and a snack-sized bag labelled Rophynol. There was a pocketknife with a rose on it, and a gun that Ren pulled out earlier. It looked awfully familiar, and it had no bullets too... And finally, there was a black and red occult charm, one Andrew immediately recognized as Ashley's.

        "Jesus... no..." Andrew gasped, gently picking up and cradling the charm, the only thing remaining of Ashley. "No, please..." 

        "Oh, how cute! My little angel is into the occult now! Isn't she so pure?" Ren cooed. "Is what I'd say if I didn't know that was Ashley's... My angel is far too pure to be involved with that demon crap." 

        "How do you know Ashley's name...?" Andrew grumbled. "How do I know you didn't plant this?" Andrew hissed, protectively cradling the charm in his hand.

        "Because I have no reason to kill Ashley." Ren hummed. "Well, scratch that. I would've. She got what she got for what she tried to do." Ren smiled. "The only reason I know of Ashley is because I followed (Y/N) to her grave!"

        "A-a grave?" Andrew spluttered. 

        "Duh. I told you she was dead." Ren rolled his eyes. "You really don't listen. My angel is so patient and kind, accepting strays like you into her home..."

        "But... this isn't proof that you didn't kill her..." Andrew muttered. "(Y/N)... she wouldn't kill anyone. She's just perfect. A darling... She wouldn't do it—you would!"

        "I would—and have." Ren smirked. "But that's not what we're discussing right now. Here." Ren hummed rummaging in his back pocket before pulling out some small folded squares. "Look."

        Andrew accepted the pictures, opening them. He unfolded the squares and saw five pictures. One of Penelope, (Y/N)'s co-worker Andrew remembers, and (Y/N) out in the rain in an alleyway. Another photo showed a knife in (Y/N)'s hand, along with one in Penelope's. The third had a photo of (Y/N) on top of Penelope, straddling her waist with a pocketknife in the air. The fourth had the knife stabbed into Penelope's chest, along with multiple other wounds on her chest too. Finally, the last photo showed (Y/N) throwing the body in a public clothing donation center. 

        "Right in the act!" Ren laughed, gasping for air as if it was there funniest thing ever. "I followed you guys later that day while the hitman did his job! I can't believe I actually caught that! Turns out my angel is such a little vixen!"

        "This can't be real..." Andrew rasped.

        "Oh! It is! And look, best one for last!" Ren smirked, grabbing final photo in another pocket, pulling it out and unfolding it for Andrew. "H-ha! Ha! Here! Lookie!" Ren laughed, waving a photo of (Y/N) in the rain with a set of flowers, placing them down on a trail entrance. "Giving her condolences to her victim! Oh, she's so pure! I haven't even bothered visiting Ben's grave!" he cackled. 

        “You think this is something to laugh about?! People are dead!” Andrew shouted, shoving the occult charm into his pocket before glaring at Ren.

        “So sensitive… it’s just a blood relative…” Ben sighed.

        “That’s my sister!” Andrew snapped. 

        “It’s not like you haven’t killed anyone before.” Ben hummed, crossing his arms.

        “You son of a— w-wait…” Andrew’s threat fell short, taking in Ren’s words. “How… do you know?”

        “My father owns our town jail, so we have access to arrest records to check for felonies and such—we look up people and decide if they should be held in jail or be sent to prison.” Ren explained. “You showed up on my records, lucky you!” 

        “Damn it…” Andrew hissed, gritting his teeth.

        Of course, (Y/N)’s stalker has to be involved with the police. Why wouldn’t he?

        “If I recall… you have three accounts of second-degree murder. Cannibalism. Escaping house arrest. Invading officers—“ Ren listed.

        “Hey! Hey! That’s not what happened! That’s bullshit!” Andrew snapped.

        “It’s what the system says. You really think the justice system is gonna believe a murderer?” Ren chuckled.

        “It was self-defense and necessity. I had to do it.” Andrew hissed.

        “Right. And the girl that went missing in your hometown? I'm fairly certain you caused it—same with the man shot in the park a city nearby a month ago. That's two more accounts of second-degree murder, but anyways…” Ren hummed, playfully rolling his eyes in a teasing motion. “You asked why I was here earlier…”

        “To check in, you said…” Andrew muttered.

        “That’s not all!” Ren chirped. “I told you I’ll only be here for a week, so we only have a week for this. I want you to help me.” 

        “Help? Help you? As if!” Andrew scoffed, grabbing his cleaver.

        “Oh… well, I guess the police can be more helpful then…” Ren hummed.

        Damn it.

        “What is it?” Andrew gritted through his teeth. “What do you want?”

        “(Y/N).” Ren smiled.

        “I already told you. She’s mine!” Andrew hissed.

        “No, she’s not!” Ren hissed, clenching his fist. “You don’t love her! How can you when she killed your sister?”

        Andrew opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

        Because how could he love someone that killed his sister?

        Ren smiled, pleased to see Andrew couldn’t come up with anything.

        “See? How can you love a murderer? She’s killed innocent people, and you love that?” Ren chuckled, smiling. “(Y/N)’s not that innocent little nurse who just helps from the kindness of her heart. She does it to feel better about herself, an ego to fulfill. If you can’t love that side of her, you don’t deserve her. Do you really love that side of her? I mean, how do you know you're not next? Not even her own co-worker was off-limits!"

        “Do you really ever shut up…?” Andrew grumbled, adverting Ren’s eyes.

        “Let’s make this easy.” Ren hummed. “You help me get (Y/N), and this whole apartment is yours! I’ll send you rent money, and grocery money, and whatever money you want that will keep you satisfied in this apartment—so long as you don’t leave it! Or, ya know, you can and just go to jail. That works for me, but I’m trying to give you a chance here.” 

        “Why not just kill me?” Andrew questioned.

        “It’ll upset my angel too much, dummy!” Ren chuckled, patting Andrew’s shoulder like he was swatting away a toddler’s joke. “In order to prevent anymore… accidents from her… it’d be better to make it seem like you betrayed her! Which you will if you wanna live!”

        Andrew slapped away Ren’s hand, annoyed as he sighed. “And how are we gonna do that?”

        “You are gonna drug her!” Ren smiled.

        ”Excuse me?” Andrew snapped. 

        “It’s easier than you’d think, especially with this!” Ren smiled, opening the bedside drawer and shaking the bag of white powder. “I can only assume this is Rohypnol since there’s a box here of it. This is a date-rape drug, or a sleep medicine gone wrong.” 

        “Really?” Andrew cringed, making a face. “I have to literally put it in her drink?”

        “Yeah, or a liquid food like soup. Doesn’t matter. Just make sure she eats it.” Ren shrugged, placing the bag back into the drawer. “I’ll leave that there. Remember, you have a week.” 

        “And if I don’t, I die or get arrested…” Andrew muttered, watching as Ren moved around, grabbing a small box in his pocket before walking into the bathroom.

        ”Don’t even think about it…” Andrew hissed. “I share that bathroom with her.”

        Ren looked over, before shrugging his shoulders. “Fine. Bathroom cameras are off-limits…” 

        “You’re gross…” Andrew groaned, rolling his eyes. “Why do you need those pictures?”

        Ren ignored him, instead placing a camera in another corner of the room for full coverage.

        “Why do you bother doing this?” Andrew questioned.

        “Why not?” Ren smiled. 

        Ren noticed the answer didn’t satisfy Andrew as he glared at him, so he spoke again.

        “And to make sure she’s doing okay.” Ren hummed.

        “I think more than half of her problems would be gone if it wasn’t for you.” Andrew grumbled.

        “You can say what you want…” Ren spoke. “But just remember, you have only a week left with her. Do you understand.”

        “Yeah. Okay.” Andrew muttered.

        “By the end of this week, you should have her unconscious. You will not mention me or any cameras. Nothing.” Ren ordered. “When you drug her, give me a call.”

        Ren pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, his number already written down on it. Seems he had this all planned.

        “Be quick about it when you call. The drug shouldn’t take long to kick in. And use the whole bag if you can—the drug is tasteless and odorless so she won’t know any different.” Ren explained.

        “Okay. Okay.” Andrew hissed, upset as he snatched the paper and shoved it in his pocket. 

        “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have some stuff to show you.” Ren hummed.

        Andrew followed Ren as he put cameras in other rooms of (Y/N)’s apartment, before leaving out the front door, driving away in a silver Honda Odyssey.

        Andrew sat around in silence, looking around at the apartment.

        He felt angry. Angry at Ren and his blackmail. Angry at (Y/N) for lying to him and taking away his only family he considered. Angry at himself for letting this all happen and being so easy to control.

        He felt upset. Upset at Ren taking control of his life. Upset at (Y/N) for pushing her way into his life. And upset at himself for allowing his life to be controlled like this.

        “Fuck…” he groaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

        .

        .

        She was knocked to the ground with a thud, landing on her back and quickly on alert. A short yelp leaving her as she got pinned to her carpeted living room floor. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she squirmed and kicked, trying to kick off her assaulter as she hit and scratched. 

        It was Andrew.

        Andrew had a crazed look in his eyes. An angry expression on his face that matched his panic at the hospital that night he tried to figure out what to do next after discharge.

        He was mad, and there was a cleaver raised in the air just a few inches from her face.

        “Andrew! Andrew, it’s me!” (Y/N) gasped, reaching her hands up and grabbing his wrist.

        Was he mad at her? For what? Does he believe she's an intruder? But that wouldn't explain why he has a cleaver ready in his hand.

        "Andrew!" (Y/N) squirmed, digging her nails down into his wrist to hopefully make him let go.

        It won't work. He's pumped with too much adrenaline to even register the pain, that or he's able to tolerate it. Either way, both situations are bad for her and could result terribly. 

        "You son of a bitch! You killed her!" Andrew hissed, fighting to slam the cleaver down. 

        Oh god fucking damn it. (Y/N) mentally groaned.

        Of course he'd figure it out eventually, but she was hoping to break it to him lightly, if that's even possible. 

        “You don’t understand!” (Y/N) retorted, struggling to hold back Andrew as his free hand tried pinning down her arms. “I had to! I had to!”

        “You didn’t have to do shit!” Andrew snapped, furious as the cleaver came closer to her head.

        “She was gonna kill me first! I had to defend myself!” (Y/N) blurted out.

        “So you killed her?!” Andrew snarled.

        “I panicked! The situation was too far gone to de-escalate.” (Y/N) snapped.

        “That’s no excuse!” Andrew hissed, the sharp blade of her own cleaver getting closer to her head.

        There was a moment where she considered that she might actually not be able to escape this one. With his strength against her, this isn’t a fight she can win. 

        “So what? I just let her kill me?” (Y/N) scoffed,  her voice strained as she was losing, the blade grazing just above her nose and between her eyes.

        “Yes!” Andrew snarled. “It should’ve been you!”

        The sudden shock that jolted through her body shouldn’t have been surprising, it was her versus his sister, of course he’d choose her over his unprofessional nurse—but it still hurt to hear.

        “If you kill me, you’ll pay.” (Y/N) snapped, a new wave of anger taking over her. “Even if it’s not me, you’ll pay. I don’t have to kill you myself for it to happen.” (Y/N) hissed.

        There was a falter in his grip, tears welling up in his eyes as his grip loosened slightly, his hesitancy a mistake as she moved her hands off his wrists. She gripped the blade’s end, ignoring the already stinging sensation as it pressed into her palms in a line.

        Even if the blade comes down, her hands will take the blow. She doesn’t need her hands to live, and she’s ready to make that sacrifice.

        Her anger flared as a wave of adrenaline rushed through her, aiming to survive and escape. She grabbed the cleaver and pulled it back to her, catching Andrew off as he let go.

        She kicked his stomach, before pinning him back on the ground, raising the cleaver.

        “I can’t do it…” Andrew muttered, tears welting up in his eyes, a look of defeat as he made no effort to retrieve the cleaver hovering over him. “I can’t kill you.”

        His hands went to her hips, loosely holding them as he stayed on the ground, (Y/N)’s body hovering over his. 

        (Y/N) glared at him, the cleaver raised up high as she aimed for his neck, gripping the cleaver’s handle tighter.

        “Just who do you think you are…?” she spat out, watching as tears fell down Andrew’s face. “You think you can just kill me after all I’ve done?” she questioned.

        Her twin buns were messy, one of her buns loose as her star hairclip threatened to fall from her hair. Her nurse lanyard dangled down on Andrew, one of her hands resting next to Andrew’s head as the other held her kitchen cleaver.

        She watched the tears fall down his face, before throwing the cleaver across the room, probably creating a mark on her wall she’ll worry about later. She threw the cleaver so they both wouldn't make a drastic mistake they couldn't change. There wasn't any need for more bloodshed, all it did was get them both in trouble numerous times. 

        “Was there really no other way?” Andrew questioned, his hands tracing self-assuring circles on her hips. “You really couldn’t have done anything other than kill her?”

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. Maybe if she hadn’t provoked Ashley to attack by spraying perfume in her eyes, perhaps they could’ve talked it out. She could’ve made a compromise with Ashley, or even go as far as to dropping the whole murder idea all together.

        But Ashley Graves is dead, in an amateur grave (Y/N) dug up and covered with dirt herself, some flowers resting in the forest entrance as an apology and tribute to her. It won't fix anything, not what's happened in the past or future or now, but it's something to ease her mind, help her with the guilt. 

        “I don’t know.” (Y/N) admitted. “I just did what I could; isn’t that what we all do?”

        “It still hurts though.” Andrew sighed.

        “It always will.” (Y/N) spoke. “But it’ll lessen over time.”

        “It’s just… she’s probably the only thing left that would’ve helped me know who I am.” Andrew groaned, tilting his head to the side to look at the wall, avoiding her eyes. 

        “You’re Andrew, dummy.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Well I don’t feel like Andrew.” Andrew muttered.

        “When do we feel like ourselves these days?” she laughed, as if he made a funny joke. 

        Andrew glanced up at her, unamused. 

        “Come on, you have a whole new path ahead of you. You don’t have anything from the past holding you back, so what’s stopping you?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “I-I don’t know. Maybe I’m worried.” Andrew stammered, unsure really what to say or how to put his feelings into words. 

        “About what?” she pried, getting up off his waist.

        “I don’t think it’ll work out well for me…” He groaned, exhausted.

        “That’s everyone’s fear. You’re not special.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

        “I mean being a criminal and all…” Andrew added.

        “Same boat here.” (Y/N) hummed. “C’mon, surely we can help each other? Make a truce and no more murdering?”

        Andrew looked hesitant, staring off to the side as he thought. It was risky, especially after all they've done. (Y/N) lied to Andrew; but so did Andrew. (Y/N) betrayed Andrew; but so will Andrew.

        "Okay, fine. No more murder." Andrew sighed, bringing his hands up and wiping the tears from his eyes. 

        He felt almost embarrassed that he cried in front of (Y/N), but he knew she wouldn't say anything about it. She really doesn't get the right to make fun of him for it after all the times she's cried in front of him. 

        .

        .

        Even if they did a truce, Andrew was distant. He stopped sleeping in her bed, and insisted on sleeping on the sleeper sofa in the living room. It doesn't take a genius to know Andrew was upset about Ashley's death; anyone would be upset really.

        (Y/N)'s believes the reason why Andrew's so upset about it is because Ashley was probably the only key to Andrew knowing who he really was. Ashley's the only person who knew Andrew before he jumped and got amnesia, and there's no guarantee the amnesia will ever go away; in fact it could potentially worsen. 

        But (Y/N) would rather not think of that. She can't change what's been done.

        However, Andrew hasn't been eating much. It doesn't take a genius to know that Andrew's gone into a state of depression, feeling hopeless and lost on who he is and what to do next. 

        They've had their arguments and bumps, (Y/N)'s had to force Andrew eat and make sure he's taking care of himself while she's gone at work. It seems like he's just getting worse by the day, and it's been a full week now. Though Andrew's come around to joking and smiling more, there's still a barrier between the two, one Andrew won't allow to break down no matter how many times (Y/N) bangs on it.

        But he's eating again, in fact he's insisted on making dinner today after (Y/N)'s complaints. It was Andrew's turn to cook dinner—well, it's been his turn for a while now, but (Y/N) didn't want to force him to cook when he wasn't feeling well. Andrew never really cooked a meal that took longer than 30 minutes, but (Y/N)'s been insistent on him learning how to cook proper meals since it was a basic skill needed as an adult, so here he is being forced (guided) to cook beef tips and rice. 

        "You're checking the locks again?" Andrew sighed, watching her pace around the kitchen as he cooked.

        Andrew stirred the beef tips, watching (Y/N) check all the three locks on each window, she was such a worrywart.

        "You're gonna get wrinkles if you keep stressing yourself out like this." Andrew commented with a smirk.

        "I think I'd look pretty hot with wrinkles. Like a MILF." (Y/N) snickered. "Besides, I'm just being cautious! Do you understand how many creeps are out in the world?"

        "Yeah, I'm looking at one right now." Andrew teased. 

        "Oh, ahaha." (Y/N) laughed sarcastically. "You think you're so funny? Only funny thing about you is your face."

        "I prefer the term 'handsome', but thanks." Andrew hummed smartly.

        "Oh, yes, so handsome..." (Y/N) cooed, leaning over the counter and pinching Andrew's cheek, watching his eye close as he accepted the treatment, albeit a hint of hesitancy. "That rice is gonna be done soon. Be a dear and check it."

        "Yes, ma'am..." Andrew commented teasingly, watching her let go of his face so he could check the rice cooker's timer. 

        "What movie do you wanna watch tonight?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "I dunno. You decide." Andrew hummed, keeping his eye on the timer before going back to stirring the beef tips.

        "Ugh, Andrew..." (Y/N) groaned, walking out of the kitchen to go into the living room and check the locks. "You know I can never decide a movie, that's why you always pick!"

        "Let's do a comedy then." Andrew hummed, opening the rice cooker's lid as it beeped.

        "A comedy? Okay, let's do an Adam Sandler then." (Y/N) hummed. 

        "You know there's other comedy actors other than Adam Sandler, right?" Andrew chuckled, a fake one. "Besides, I thought you said you could never decide on a movie?" 

        "Well, now I decided." (Y/N) huffed, checking the blinds and curtains and locks. "Besides, he's funny! He's got a funny voice and funny lines! I mean, c'mon, his performance in Grown Ups was pretty nice, especially the sequel." 

        "Whatever you say." Andrew chuckled.

        Andrew grabbed two bowls and scoops some rice into each, then topped it with beef tips and gravy. On any normal day, (Y/N) would've complained to him that there needed to be a vegetable as a side, but she was just happy that Andrew was out of bed and standing up on his own for longer periods of time. 

        "Dinner's ready!" Andrew called out. 

        "Okay!" 

        (Y/N) chirped, making sure the final window was locked before closing the curtains. 

        She walked into the dining room and sat down as Andrew poured some lemonade into a cup.

        “Thank you for dinner.” She hummed, accepting the cup Andrew handed her, taking a sip before placing it down onto the table.

        “It’s nothing.” Andrew waved off, sitting down next to her.

        “Doctor Ryan gave me a basket of hot chocolate supplies today, we should make them for our movie night.” (Y/N) suggested. 

        “Are you talking about the scrawny guy that’s way too happy?” Andrew questioned.

        “That’s the one.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        “Ugh…” Andrew groaned, already knowing how extravagant that hot coco basket will be. 

        “It’ll be a waste of money if we don’t use it.” (Y/N) reasoned. 

        “Still…” Andrew sighed.

        Just the thought of another male thinking about her made Andrew feel sick. It didn’t matter if Doctor Ryan was married with kids and her instructor, he still felt annoyed knowing the man got to spend more time with her than he could.

        “I can make it after dinner when our stomachs settle.” (Y/N) hummed, taking a bite of her food and washing it down with her drink. “Don’t worry about the dishes either, I’ll wash them since you cooked dinner tonight—which, by the way, is very good.” 

        Andrew nodded, eating his food silently, looking down at his bowl before speaking.

        “Do you think I’m a bad person?” he questioned.

        (Y/N) frowned, looking up from her bowl. “A bad person?” she contemplated. “What makes you think that?” 

        “It’s not what I think; it’s what you think. Do you think I’m a bad person?” he repeated.

        “I think… if bad people existed, we all would be bad people.” (Y/N) spoke. “And if good people existed, we all would be good people.”

        “Which means…?” Andrew questioned, impatient as he looked at her.

        “There no such thing as a bad person, only doing bad things.” (Y/N) huffed. “You know, that famous saying? It was something along those lines at least.”

        “Right…” he sighed. 

        “Anyways…” (Y/N) yawned, covering her mouth, before resting her cheek on her palm. “Why?”

        “What do you mean ‘why?’” Andrew questioned.

        “What are you thinking about that has you wondering if you’re a bad person?” (Y/N) asked.

        “I’m just curious…” Andrew muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

        “About?” she pried.

        “Do you think…” Andrew hesitated, placing his spoon down in his bowl, before looking at (Y/N). “Do you think it’s okay for someone to do bad things if it’s to protect themselves?”

        “Depends on the circumstances…” (Y/N) hums. “I mean, some things can be forgiven and some can’t.”

        “Don’t worry about the circumstances, just think of it as whole. Can you forgive me for doing bad things if it was to protect myself?” Andrew huffed, annoyed at her deflections.

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. Is he… trying to open up about his past? His crimes? 

        “Well… I think you should do whatever it takes for you to survive.” (Y/N) muttered.

        You can kill someone as long as they tried killing you first, that’s how self-defense works—at least, it’s an excuse for her to feel better about herself. 

        “You wake up with yourself, you go to bed with yourself, you feed yourself, you shower with yourself; you live with yourself for as long as you live, so only you should matter.” (Y/N) spoke, leaning on her hand and closing her eyes. “I think, it’s best to lend help to others once you’re stable yourself.”

        “Right…” Andrew muttered. “So, I’m sorry.” He whispered.

        He leaned over the table and moved her bowl and food away from her head, watching her peaceful face as she kept her eyes closed, before she slumped on the table.

        Andrew stood up from the table, picking up (Y/N)’s phone and using her thumb to unlock it. He grabbed a piece of paper out of his pockets, dialing the numbers in before holding it up to his ear.

        “Ren? I did what you wanted, come get her.” 

        .

        .

        “I’m so glad you came to your senses! You did it last minute, I was worried I’d have to find a place to bury you!” Ren chirped, laughing as he entered the apartment.

        “Shut up…” Andrew muttered, annoyed.

        It hurt. It felt like he betrayed himself more than he betrayed (Y/N). His chest ached, sore from lying to her, but it also burned, knowing that (Y/N) was going to be in the hands of this man now.

        “As promised, you’ll live. I’ll give you 4,000 every month for rent, shipping groceries, online shopping, all that stuff. Just money for whatever you need.” Ren explained. “Remember, so long as you don’t leave the apartment! We don’t need the police finding you after I worked so hard to cover both your and my angel’s tracks! It was hard wiping out that camera footage at the mall, you know?” 

        Ren went around the house, removing all the cameras and microphones for Andrew to live in privacy. 

        Ren took a suitcase out of (Y/N)’s closet and unzipped it, picking up (Y/N)’s unconscious body and placing her in a cradle-like position, setting her down in the suitcase and zipping her up.

        Ren noticed Andrew’s hesitant expression, watching him zip her up so he spoke.

        “She’s claustrophobic, but this is just so none of the neighbors see her.” Ren explained. “I’ll make sure to pull off the side of the road and take her out of the suitcase before I get on the interstate.”

        “You better…” Andrew muttered, watching as Ren grabbed the suitcase’s handles.  

        “Well, this is it. Call me if you need anything.” Ren smiled, handing Andrew a phone out of his pocket. 

        It looked new and pricey, but for all Andrew knows, it could have a spyware on it. He’ll sell it and buy a phone that isn’t hacked instead—but he won’t tell Ren that. 

        “Thanks.” Andrew muttered. 

        “I’ll pay you cash the last of every month in the mail. (Y/N)’s rent is due every first of the month, so just place cash in a envelope and drop it off at the landlord’s mailbox in the front. Purchase your groceries online and all that. You probably know everything else now.” Ren explained. 

        Andrew watched as Ren dragged the suitcase out of the front door, a feeling of dread washing over Andrew as he spoke. 

        “Hey.” 

        Ren turned around, an amused smirk on his face, as if he was challenging Andrew to defy him. “Yes?”

        “Please… just take care of (Y/N).” Andrew muttered, her name feeling like poison to his throat.

        “Of course. I’ve always taken care of her.” Ren smiled. 

        Andrew and Ren had different ideas of ‘care’, but it won’t concern Andrew anymore after today.

        “Bye now!” Ren waved, walking down the apartment steps with the suitcase (Y/N) was in.

        Andrew said nothing, watching him walk away, before he finally left his view. Andrew shut the door, shutting them both out of his life.

        .

        .

        “And that’s how you’re here!” Ren smiled, watching as (Y/N) squirmed and tried to kick, her efforts fruitless as she was strapped to an expensive chair. 

        “Shut up! I hate you! I hate you, cunt!” she screamed, trying to bang her head bang onto the chair, but the straps around her forehead didn’t allow that.

        “There’s no point in screaming; we’re in the middle of nowhere! Have you forgotten where our home is already?” Ren chirped.

        “This isn’t my home!” (Y/N) shouted.

        This is no home. This is Hell, pure Hell as she stared down the Devil. 

        There is no home for her, only settlements until she ups and moves to the next location. This should’ve never happened.

        “How… how did you even find me?” (Y/N) muttered.

        “I’ve been keeping a close eye on your parents. I had an AirTag in their car, so when they left town, it notified me and I followed them.” Ren explained. “They led me right to your apartment! So when they stayed the night, I hired a hitman to kill your parents when they leave town, do whatever so they just controlled an AI car to crash into the gas pump, hence the explosion at the gas station that killed your parents!” Ren beamed, as if the story was something to be proud of.

        Fucking Apple. Whoever made AirTags probably made them under the guise to stalk his wife, or husband, no judgment. 

        “You’re terrible.” (Y/N) muttered.

        She looked around the room, trying to find anything to aid her escape, but it was fruitless. She was stuck in Ren’s bedroom, in a pricey chair with fancy restraints that he no doubt planned for her to be strapped in. 

        She’d be watched while Ren is here, and even if Ren led to go work at his father’s prison that he’ll inherit when his father dies, there’s probably a camera and microphone hiding somewhere in the room to supervise (Y/N) while she’s away.

        She had no way of escaping due to these damn rubber straps preventing her movement, she can’t even tilt her head. The chair was screwed into the ground, preventing her from even lifting up the chair or knocking it over.

        “Why can’t you just leave? Leave me alone!” (Y/N) exclaimed, pissed off. 

        “Oh, my angel. You’ll understand one day that this is all because of my love for you.” Ren cooed, reaching out and cradling his hand on her cheek.

        She tried to snap back and bite his finger, but the straps preventing her from tilting her head to bite him, trapped and felt vulnerable to whatever he wants. 

        “I really don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation, pretty. You do know that I can easily turn you into the police?” Ren smiled.

        “You won’t.” (Y/N) challenged. “You’d miss me too much.”

        “I can just visit you in prison everyday and night. Besides, my father owns the place, so I can do whatever I want.” Ren hummed, smirking as he knew the advantages he has to this situation. 

        (Y/N) frowned, annoyed as she looked away from him.

        If only this chair was a normal wooden chair, then she’d just bang the chair legs down on the ground until they cracked and broke the chair. Or at the very least, alert neighbors in the apartment; but Ren lived in the middle of nowhere. Curse this secluded private town and it’s distance from neighbors—the only time she’ll complain about having privacy.

        Either way, she’s trapped. It’s not like anyone in this town is even aware that she’s back, or would they even care considering her reputation here is worse than a sewer rat’s. If anything, they’d probably say she deserves it. 

        Is this to pay for my sins? (Y/N) thought to herself, shutting her eyes.

        There’s nothing to do but accept the situation. Maybe after a few months or years, he’ll let her out of the chair and she’ll be able to escape after building enough rapport (because she seriously doubts she’ll develop Stockholm Syndrome for this bastard). 

        (Y/N) chuckled, laughing to herself at the bizarreness of the situation. 

        Her father’s kindness to see her turned into her ultimate demise. Or perhaps it was her fault for writing her parents contact information as an emergency contact for her hospitalization. 

        Everything just always seems to come and bite her back in the ass.

        “So what happened with Andrew?” (Y/N) questioned, smiling. “Did you kill him too after he drugged me?” 

        “No, he’s alive.” Ren answered.

        “Shocking.” (Y/N) commented.

        “Well, we did make a deal after all. I don’t go against my word.” Ren smiled.

        “Funny, considering you said you’d protect me; yet you’re the only threat.” (Y/N) scoffed. “You didn’t protect me from Ashley or Penelope either. Some protector you are.”

        “Well I could’ve protected you if you just didn’t run away! You and your silly little brain, angel.” Ren chuckled, smiling as he shook his head, like he was laughing at a toddler. “I am sad to have missed your first murder; but I at least saw your second!” Ren smiled, pulling out some photos of (Y/N) killing Penelope from his pocket, waving it in her face.

        (Y/N) frowned. So this was it, the rest of her life with the man in front of her. He has permanent blackmail on her, so even if she did somehow manage to escape, it’d be hard trying to get a whole new identity once a warrant would be out for her arrest, let alone trying to get a damn car to escape. 

        Damn you, Andrew… (Y/N) thought to herself, though she probably deserves this after killing his sister.

        A Grave for a Grave.

        .

        .

        Maddening. That’s how it felt without her. He hasn’t been able to sleep in three days, or was it four? He already can’t remember. It’s been a month, maybe a month and a half? He can barely get more than 3 hours of sleep a night, tossing and turning and tossing and turning in an endless loop. 

        God, he missed hugging her at night. Only a week of sleeping together in the same bed and he was already hooked on her warmth and softness that’s now permanently gone.

        Andrew’s always considered himself as an introverted guy, but it feels like living Hell by not being able to see her.

        He finds himself re-cooking the meals she’s made, scavenging through her drawers and cooking the recipes she left—but it never tasted like her cooking. 

        He finds himself using her bath products, reminiscing in the familiar scent—but it always missed the scent of just her.

        He finds himself sleeping in her bed alone, only the ghost of her cold touch hugging him, but it provided no warmth or comfort like she did. Even her scent was starting to fade from the sheets. He missed her touch. 

        He finds himself waiting by the front door for her, leaning against the wall, sitting on the floor, peeking out the peephole looking for her; but he knows deep down he won’t see her. He just wanted to see her again. 

        It was his fault after all, he was the one that turned her in. He probably didn’t have much of a choice anyways, it was either that or die, but honestly death seems like a much more bearable situation than having to deal with the burden of loneliness and isolation. 

        Her phone was left on the charger. He had retrieved it from her purse and used it to call Ren and take her away, but he regrets the decision now.

        He managed to crack the password on the fourth day of living without her. It was annoying, but he didn’t have her thumb to unlock it, and it was hard trying to come up with a password since she regularly changed her password as she does with other things in the apartment. 

        After meeting Ren, he understands her paranoia of security.

        He unplugged her phone and looked through her pictures. She barely had any, only pictures of her in high school with who he can only assume were old friends. One had blonde hair with pink highlights and the other had strong muscles and short black hair. 

        The picture was taken from an angle. (Y/N) sat on a couch with a computer and notebooks in her lap as she wrote. Meanwhile, black hair was taking up some of the couch as she leaned on the armrest, glaring at the blonde who intruded on the picture with half of her head in the way. 

        The black hair looked like the brawns, the pink hair looked like the beauty (though Andrew thought [Y/N] was just as pretty, if not more), and (Y/N) looked like the brains. 

        Other pictures included her family farm, some good harvests of the year, pictures of old CD’s she listened to in high school, and old church gatherings.

        Andrew found himself staring at her in the pictures, wondering why he never took a picture with her to remember.

        He looked closer at the church pictures and saw one of the whole church members combined. (Y/N) stood in a blue dress with a white bow on it, and standing a few persons away from her was Ren, staring at her at he wore a white button-up and black slacks.

        That damn man… Andrew thought, annoyed.

        Even in their teen years, he was pestering her.

        He swiped through more photos, finding more of her family farm, before noticing a picture that caught his eye.

        It was a picture of a smaller (Y/N), a few years before her pre-teens, standing next to a wagon filled with a berry harvest. She posed in front of a sign that said (L/N) Family Farm: Fresh is Best below the big font, there was an address.

        12920 N Estrella Lane, 39302, Luna, GE

        Wait a second.

        Andrew plugged the address into the phone maps, coming up with an address 34 hours away. 

        There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation the way he shot up from bed, scrambling to find his shoes. He grabbed a trash bag, piling some clothes, phone charger, and snacks into the bag. He put on a jacket (Y/N) bought him and a disposable mask he found in (Y/N)’s drawers. He picked up his wallet, an envelope of money Ren mailed to him, (Y/N)’s car keys, and something helpful from (Y/N)’s drawer. 

        He locked the door behind him, hopping into (Y/N)’s car Ren left considering he couldn’t trust (Y/N) to drive with him (nor would he allow her to drive anywhere and escape him again). 

        Andrew put the keys into the engine and plugged the (L/N) Family Farms into the car’s GPS. 

        It wouldn’t give him an exact location, but it’s at least a start. If Ren followed (Y/N)’s parents from their farm, then they must live in the same town. It at least gives Andrew a place to start searching. 

        Andrew just has to make a quick stop before he confronts Ren. Hopefully, nothing bad has happened to (Y/N) during this past month.

        .

        .

        “Darla Carving got 8 years for poisoning her husband, under the charge of attempted murder.” Ren explained, sitting on his bed, eating some grilled chicken.

        (Y/N) tuned him out, annoyed as she stared at the wall.

        “Remember how we went to school with her? She used to be an artist, but now she’s just an inmate.” Ren smiled. “But hey, maybe she’ll be the next Van Gough in prison, I’d buy a piece—you’re not listening again.” Ren frowned.

        (Y/N) rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Can’t you just shut up and eat?”

        “Speaking of food…” Ren smiled, setting down his plate onto his nightstand. “It’s time for you to eat!”

        (Y/N) frowned, already clamping her mouth shut, biting her teeth together.

        “Now, now, it’ll be easier for the both of us if you just listen.” Ren smiled.

        “No!” (Y/N) snapped, watching as Ren grabbed a bowl of tomato soup from the dresser.

        “Say ah.” Ren smiled, holding a spoon to (Y/N)’s mouth.

        (Y/N) kept her mouth shut. She would turn her head the other way if it wasn’t for the straps holding her head still.

        Ren gave up trying to gently spoon it into her mouth, before grabbing her chin and forcing her mouth open, jabbing the spoon down her throat, before scooping up more soup and repeating the process.

        Ren finished trying after some scoops, making sure she swallowed before placing the spoon down.

        “See? It doesn’t get any harder, only you make it tough.” Ren smiled, setting the bowl down onto the nightstand.

        (Y/N) grimaced, closing her eyes as she gave him the silent treatment.

        “Soon the Rohyopnol will kick in, then we’ll get you your bath!” Ren cheered.

        The tomato soup was laced with Rohyopnol, it just makes it easy for Ren to carry her around, hold her, and bathe her without (Y/N) trying to escape, considering she’ll be dead asleep.  

        “What pajamas today? Black or purple?” Ren hummed, holding up two pairs of pajamas, both with pants and long sleeves since she’s not allowed to sleep with a blanket in case she tries choking herself (as if she can escape the straps). 

        (Y/N) stayed firm with her silent treatment, ignoring him. She had 30 minutes before the Rohypnol kicks in and she’ll lose consciousness—she plans on spending that time being petty and spiteful. 

        (Y/N) kept her eyes closed, ignoring him like a child would.

        If you can’t see it, it’s not real.

        “Look at me.” Ren snapped, grabbing her lower jaw. “Stop being difficult.”

        (Y/N) kept ignoring him. 

        “I wish you’d just accept your situation. It’s been a month now, can’t we just get along?” Ren frowned.

        (Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, annoyed.

        At this point, she’ll suffer from muscle dystrophy being stuck in this chair all the time with no exercise. Perhaps she can bargain with Ren on that; have time out of the chair and regain her strength until she can escape. 

        “Listen to me!” Ren exclaimed, desperate for control even with the upperhand in this situation. “Why don’t you ever listen, Angel? Is it really so bad? I could do worse such as—“         

        A shot rang out through the room, Ren collapsing to the floor, hunched over.

        “What the f—“ Ren looked up to be met with the barrel of a gun, Andrew’s holding the trigger before quickly pulling it without any hesitation.

        “You know, you’d think a guy like this would have security or even good quality locks.” Andrew commented, sighing before he looked over at (Y/N)

        (Y/N) froze, unsure if he was a threat or not. He had traded her in, and now he has a gun after turning against Ren. Will he turn on her again?

        “(Y/N)…” Andrew spoke, taking in the sight of her, happy to see her before he noticed the straps on the chair.

        He walked over to her, walking behind and undoing the leather straps attached to the chair, releasing her.

        She stood up, stumbling a bit as she grabbed the nearby nightstand for support. 

        “What the fuck is your issue?!” she spat aggressively, her legs shaking before collapsing onto the ground near Ren’s bleeding corpse. 

        It was a pathetic sight, like watching a newborn fawn try and stand up on their nimble legs. 

        “Get away!” she snapped.

        “(Y/N), shh. It’s okay.” Andrew frowned, concerned as he crouched down to her level.

        “Who do you think you are?! Some hero?” she spat out, hitting his chest. “You think you can just show up and everything is suddenly sunshine and rainbows? What’s your intentions?” 

        “(Y/N), I just wanted to help.” Andrew spoke, fighting her hits, placing the gun in his waistband and grabbing her shoulders. “Hey, listen.”

        “I hate you!” she spat.

        “Can’t you shut up?” Andrew hissed, annoyed. “I made a mistake, okay? I wasn’t thinking, it was my life on the line!” 

        “How can you think you can save me when you’re the one that put me in this situation?!” (Y/N) scoffed in disbelief.

        “I had to do what I had to do!” Andrew snapped. “You said it yourself. ‘It’s yourself for life!’”

        “I didn’t mean trade me in though!” (Y/N) hissed.

        “You would’ve done the same in my shoes!” Andrew hissed. “You killed my sister for your life! I turned you in for my life!” 

        (Y/N) paused, annoyed at how she could see the semblance, even if the circumstances were a bit different. 

        “We’re even now, okay?!” Andrew spat.

        Almost. If anything, it felt like (Y/N) owed Andrew more. He killed her stalker and he saved her, meanwhile all she did was kill his sister and lie to him.

        She’ll take what she can get. She’s not stupid to try and push this on more when she doesn’t have any good cards in her hand.

        “Okay… okay, I get it.” (Y/N) sighed, woozy as she sat down on Ren’s bed.

        She ignored the shiver of disgust that crawled up her spine as she sat down on Ren’s slumber spot. While (Y/N) sat in the chair in the dark, she could hear Ren’s peaceful slumbers as he slept under warm blankets.

        “I… just want you to know, he gave me some Rohypnol.” (Y/N) explained. “It’s gonna kick in eventually, so I can’t do much.”

        It was probably a small pill crushed up and distributed throughout the entire soup, so she probably didn’t drink enough to make her pass out, only enough to be drowsy and possibly caused temporary slow mental processing. 

        Andrew nodded, looking around Ren’s room before rummaging through his nightstand.

        He found a tissue box, some Rohypnol pill capsules, a bottle of lotion, and some polaroids of (Y/N).

        “Ick.” Andrew groaned, rolling his eyes, already guessing what this drawer was used for.

        “What?” (Y/N) questioned, trying to peek over his shoulder.

        “Don’t worry about it…” Andrew muttered, closing the drawer.

        “What are you looking for?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “This.” Andrew smirked, holding up Ren’s wallet.

        How alike they are; they kill someone and they rob them. It’s not the like the dead person will need it anyways.

        “Let’s go.” Andrew spoke.

        “If we drop by the bank, I can use an ATM and draw out money from him.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “You know his username and password?” Andrew questioned.

        “Please. His username is his first and last name, and his password is my birthday.” (Y/N) scoffed.

        “How cute.” Andrew commented sarcastically, stepping over Ren’s lifeless corpse.

        “Not!” (Y/N) snapped, glaring at him.

        Andrew led (Y/N) out of the house, glad that Ren lives on acres upon acres, therefore having no nearby neighbors. 

        “You stole my car?” (Y/N) huffed, walking out of the house as she saw her car parked near the gate.

        “How else did I get here? Public transport?” Andrew scoffed, taking the keys out of his pocket. “I’m driving.”

        “Yeah, duh. If I did, I’d fall asleep behind the wheel.” (Y/N) spoke in a ‘duh’ tone, hopping into the passenger seat.

        “Moody…” Andrew muttered under his breath, annoyed.

        “You’re the one that practically sold me for some money!” (Y/N) snapped. “Of course I’m moody!”

        “And it was for my life.” Andrew added. “Besides that, what’s next? Back to your place?” Andrew questioned.

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. 

        She can’t go back. Penelope’s dead, and even though Ren erased the store’s camera footage, there’s probably a backup file on an ICloud somewhere. Even if the evidence was completely removed, she doesn’t feel safe going back to that city.

        Ren might’ve told someone about her old dwelling, probably his dad, current owner of the jailhouse she was living in for some weeks before Ren bailed her out. If Ren is found dead in his home, (Y/N) would be a major suspect.

        Even if she did decide to go back to that apartment, she doesn’t want to live in that shitty city anymore, not with all the crazy shit that’s happened there.

        She needs to move away. 

        “Wanna go on a roadtrip?” (Y/N) smiled.

        “Where to?” Andrew questioned, confused.

        “Go back to our apartment. We’ll pack up our stuff, sell the car, and take a train.” (Y/N) explained.

        “Why the sudden idea? Are your intrusive thoughts winning over?” Andrew raised an eyebrow, putting the keys into the ignition.

        “Okay, look. You’re stuck with me; and I’m stuck with you. We have too much blackmail on each other—both ends. So we might as well stick together to keep each other quiet.” (Y/N) explained. “It’s too dangerous for us to go back and stay. Not with all the murders recently. They’ll think it’s you since your home city is just a few cities over. And when they find evidence showing it’s me, it’s over for me too. You need me for money; I need you to keep quiet.” 

        “Yeah, sounds about right…” Andrew sighed. “So, an official truce now, right?” 

        “Seal the deal with a kiss?” she questioned, smiling.

        Andrew looked over at her, smirking. “Ah, but I thought you were still throwing a temper tantrum?”

        “I’m over it. You were reasonable.” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “A few pecks could really help me, though.”

        Andrew smiled, placing his elbow on the glovebox and leaning on it, leaning in and quickly pecking her awaiting lips.

        “Hey!” (Y/N) frowned, unsatisfied with the rushed kiss. 

        “You said a peck." Andrew smirked.

        “You know damn well I didn’t mean that! A real kiss!” she huffed, grabbing him by the collar and kissing his lips more firmly, staying there for a few seconds before pulling away. 

        “Women. You give them what they want and they want more.” Andrew playfully sighed, grinning at her.

        “Ahaha. Get going and drive, chauffeur.” (Y/N) hummed.

        “Yes, ma’am.” Andrew teased, driving out of the driveway. “There’s some chips in the back if you want them. Have a real snack.” 

        “I’m gonna take a nap and sleep off the pills…” (Y/N) spoke. “When I wake up, I can take turns driving next.”

        “Sure.” Andrew smiled.

        As if. He thought, mentally scoffing. There’s no way he’s letting her drive, he’s a gentleman after all!

        “You just sit back and get some shuteye…” Andrew hummed, placing his hand on her thigh while driving.

        .

        .

        “All set?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “All set.” Andrew nodded, smiling. “Granola?” he offered, holding out a wrapped bar as he snacked on one himself.

        “Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, taking the granola bar in her hands, watching as Andrew swiftly picked up her bags. “Hey! You did that to distract me.”

        “You’re just too slow is all.” Andrew smirked, carrying the luggage to the car.

        “Mm… right.” She smiled, shutting the door and locking it. 

        Andrew prepared the car while (Y/N) turned the apartment keys to the complex owner. She exited, finding Andrew waiting for her in the driver’s seat.

        “Hey, I should be driving. That’s my car.” (Y/N) frowned.

        “Not in 30 minutes. It’ll be someone else’s from Craigslist.” Andrew smiled. “Now hop in before we’re late to meet them.” 

        (Y/N) smiled, getting into the passenger seat. Andrew drove out to a public supermarket to meet the new owner of the car. (Y/N) negotiated with the customer and managed to snag a few thousands for the used car. 

        (Y/N) took a cab with Andrew to the train station, getting a first class booth so that they could have a closing door for privacy, that way nobody noticed their faces.

        “Hey, look. You’re on the news…” Andrew spoke, although not happy for the news as he pointed his phone (he got from Ren) to her.

        “It was only a matter of time for them to find Penelope’s body and the security footage. It must’ve produced a foul smell in that box and—hey! That photo is so unattractive!” (Y/N) exclaimed, cringing at her photo.

        A photo of her three years ago, the photo for her legal driver’s license. Her hair was messy and her eyes had sunken in with black eye bags under them, showing her malnutrition since at the time she was homeless in her car.

        “Yeah, not so pretty compared to you now…” Andrew hummed, holding up the photo to her to compare.

        "Stop that!” (Y/N) huffed, snatching his phone. 

        “I’m just saying!” Andrew chuckled, smiling before it dropped. “Hey, you sure about this?”

        “Don’t worry…” (Y/N) smiled. “Well come back, for Ashley and Hailey. I promised them flowers after all.”

        “You promised them flowers? Even Ashley?” Andrew questioned, surprised.

        “Of course I did.” (Y/N) frowned. “She might’ve been… a specimen, but she was still a human after all. I mean, I’m supposed to be saving lives as a nurse, whether they’re a kid or not.” 

        Andrew nodded, looking at the window and smiling, before changing the subject. “Where we going anyways?”

        “I dunno…” (Y/N) hummed, thinking. “Greenland?”

        “And freeze my ass off?” Andrew huffed. “No.”

        “Don’t you wanna see the northern lights. It’ll be so romantic!” (Y/N) cooed. 

        “Huddling together for warmth like penguins under solar rays?” Andrew smiled, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his side, resting his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe that can be a vacation one day. I don’t feel like starting a fire all the time.”

        “They still have heating there…” (Y/N) pouted.

        “No. No yearly winter.” Andrew spoke firmly.

        “Fine. Iceland?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “We can’t go out of states, dummy. We need passports.” Andrew groaned. “Meaning they’ll discover our identities and we’ll take a vacation to prison instead.” 

        “Let’s take a cruise then.” (Y/N) chirped. “I’m sure not all cruises or boats check passports! Let them leave without us and boom, we stay!” 

        “So persistent.” Andrew hummed. “Okay, maybe. But I don’t want to live in a damn city, I’ll tell you that. Find a town to live in.” 

        “A town where we can see the northern lights.” (Y/N) huffed.

        “Deal.” Andrew smiled. 

        “Seal the deal with a kiss?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Andrew smiled. He’s definitely come to enjoy their promise kisses.

        Andrew leaned in, kissing her soft lips for a few seconds, before pulling away.

        “Sealed.” He murmured.

        “Good.” She smiled, pecking his lips again for extra measures. 

        She rested her head on his chest, looking out the train window at the scenary.

        It doesn’t matter where she lives. She’ll find another  hospital to work at after completing her degree at one of the Treegrowth hospitals for a falsified certificate. It's not the best to becoming a good person, but it's something; however, as long as she has Andrew, she has a feeling things will turn out just fine.

A huge thank you to those who have been following this little book since day one, and a huge thank you to every new reader who just made it here. I truly couldn’t have done this without each and every one of you. All your comments and positivity and criticism helped me tweak my writing to just not mine, but yours.

If you want to read more Andrew Graves x reader stories of mine, congrats! I will be doing an Andrew Graves x Two-Faced! Serial Killer! Reader! I hope to see you there!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, final chapter (current).

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Always Staring (Yuuta x Reader)

Contains: Breast fucking, awkward first kisses, Yuuta being strange and off putting, reader probably more of a pervert than Yuuta though.

Hello! Day 2 of kinktober and I chose to do titfucking, despite having never written it before! I also have never written Yuuta despite him being one of my favorite characters. Always too afraid of mischaracterization. No fear of that now though! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twitter as kenjakusbrain. Comment or like if you have any thoughts!

This wasn’t the first time you’d caught Yuuta staring at your chest. It had become something you expected when the two of you went on missions together, at some point you knew you’d look over and see him lost in thought, eyes affixed on your cleavage. You never pointed it out, knowing he’d be far too embarrassed if you said anything. Plus, you didn’t mind the attention from him, as your crush on him had been steadily growing the more time you spent together. 

You were both seated in the back of Ijichi’s car, returning to campus after another successful mission. Only, this time the curse you’d been sent to exorcize had been near a lake, which had led to the two of you falling in at one point. Not the worst thing to happen and you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that you weren’t preoccupied with fighting you could tell he was distracted. It was late so perhaps he felt safer looking in the dark, but you could feel his eyes glued to your now nearly see through white button up.

Not that he was in much better shape, his own shirt stuck to the skin in a way that let you get a better look at his nice chest. Though it was different, you supposed, trying to avoid looking at his shirt. You felt your cheeks flush as you noticed how he was gripping his thigh. He looked lost in thought but you could tell he was exerting some kind of self control the way his nails dug into his slacks.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his hand. The motion startled him and his eyes quickly jumped from your chest to your face. You could see the mix of fear and anxiety mounting on his face, the near permanent worry line on his forehead forming. 

Smiling softly, you tried to diffuse the tension by shaking your head at him. You didn’t want to talk about this in front of Ijichi of all people, you were just hoping to calm him down in some way. The stressed look didn’t quite leave Yuuta’s face, but he nodded back at you, allowing you to take his hand and move it from his thigh. 

You had expected him to pull his hand away, not to leave it resting awkwardly in yours.

A half formed idea made its way to the front of your mind. Perhaps Yuuta wasn’t the only one feeling bold in the dark backseat of the car. You brought his hand over to your own thigh, pressing his palm down onto the bare skin above your knee. You could feel him freeze up, more anxious now than when he’d realized you caught him staring. Moving your fingers along his, forcing him to apply more pressure.

Once you felt him knead your thigh on his own, you moved your hand up, caressing his wrist with your thumb. A half hearted attempt to soothe him after you were the one to stress him out. You weren’t entirely sure what your goal was, but it felt nice to have his warm hand on your skin. Part of you wanted to show him in some way that you wanted his attention, but it's harder to say things out loud than it is to just use your hands. You knew Yuuta well enough that you were sure he’d have a heart attack if you brought this up in conversation.

The two of you remained like that, slowly touching one another in the darkness until the car came to a stop. His hand didn’t leave your thigh when the overhead light came on however, nor when the door opened. You found yourself grabbing his hand again, threading your fingers together this time as you drug him out of the car. He allowed you to pull him, not letting go even as he bowed to Ijichi while you thanked him for bringing you back so late. 

Silently, you both made your way to the dorms, hands still clasped tightly together. It was late, so everything was quiet, you wanted nothing more than to return to your dorm and change clothes.

Passing Yuuta’s room, you noticed that he barely acknowledged that he should have stopped there, following you almost like a lost puppy on a leash. 

Maybe he just wanted to walk you to your room? Yuuta had always been very considerate and polite, so it would make sense. You didn’t want to bring it up and chance him getting nervous, you wanted to show him you cared after all.

Once the two of you made it to your room at the end of the long hallway, you paused. Turning to Yuuta, you opened your mouth to speak, to thank him for the mission and for walking you to your room. But you couldn’t speak, something was off about the look in his eyes. He looked like an animal at the shelter, begging for adoption. His eyes pleading, a strange loneliness in them mixed with something you couldn’t recognize.

“Do you want to stay here?” You asked, unsure on whether it was against the rules to stay with a classmate. You wouldn’t mind letting him sleep in your room, you’d slept in Maki’s after missions before, so it wasn’t entirely too strange to just want to not be alone. 

Thinking of how bold you felt in the darkness of the car, perhaps being alone with him could be good for both of you. The thought had your heart racing as you waited for him to answer.

“Please?” Yuuta’s voice was soft as he spoke. Quiet, as if he thought being too loud might ruin whatever was going on in this moment.

You squeezed his hand tighter and opened the door, letting him follow you in before turning on the light. Fortunately, your room wasn’t much of a mess, just some open textbooks on your bed as clutter. 

Awkwardly you both stood, looking anywhere but at each other. You were about to offer him a seat on your bed, but then you realized he was also still in wet clothing. 

“Our clothes are too wet to sit anywhere, did you want to go back to your room and change? You can still come back,” You offered, feeling a little unsure of yourself now. You had almost forgotten how wet you were, but looking at Yuuta in the light you could clearly see how his shirt clung to his skin. 

Yuuta had noticed as well, eyes once again stuck on your chest. You could clearly see the outline of your black bra against the white cotton. Your cheeks flushed again, part of you wanting to take your hand back from him and cover up. A different part of you, perhaps the same one that urged you to take his hand earlier, wanted you to change clothes right here in front of him and see what kind of reaction you could pull from him.

“No, I don’t want to leave,” Yuuta said, shaking his head at your question. He was a quiet person, usually due to his shyness, but however awkward the situation seemed, you didn’t sense any of Yuuta’s normal shyness. 

“Because you’d rather stare at my tits?” The question left your mouth before you had a chance to fully think about it. You weren’t upset, you enjoyed having Yuuta’s attention and the thought that he didn’t want to leave your side was perhaps what added to you being so forward. 

An undignified sound came from Yuuta, as if the question had smacked him in the back of the head. His eyes flew up to yours, worry now taking over any other emotion that swam in them earlier. There was the Yuuta you knew, stuttering to try and come up with some proper apology. His hand dropped yours as he stepped back slightly, trying to put some space between you.

“Did you think I didn’t notice? You’re always looking at them, how could I not notice?” You asked, more out of curiosity, did he really think he was being discrete?

He shook his head, his cheeks red with embarrassment. 

“N-no, I mean yes I do notice sometimes, but you, you never said anything so,” Yuuta struggled to get out a sentence, tripping over his words as he spoke. 

You felt bad for teasing him, the guilty look on his face making you want to hold him and apologize even if you had done nothing wrong.

“Maybe I like that you look at them,” You confessed. Your words made him freeze, the look of panic on his face turning to one of confusion. Slowly you brought your hands up to the collar of your damp shirt. “Do you want to see more?”

Yuuta blinked at you, still unsure if he was hearing this right. He figured he may have actually failed the mission today because this had to be some sort of heaven. He nodded, eyes drifting down to your fingers, eagerly awaiting what would happen next.

Without a word you slowly began to unbutton the shirt. It wasn’t hard, but you were still a little embarrassed, you’d never exposed yourself to another, let alone the person you’ve had a developing crush on! As your fingers reached the last button you shrugged the damp material off of your shoulders, baring more skin to him.

“Can I?” Yuuta asked, voice eager as he reached both of his hands out, gesturing at your chest. You weren’t completely exposed, bra still on. For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t last long.

Nodding, you held still as Yuuta’s curious hands cupped your breasts. He squeezed them gently through the material of your bra. The pressure felt okay, but you knew that it would feel much better with his warm hands on your skin. You wanted more, and you could tell he did too.

Hands sneaking behind your back, you undid the clasp on your bra with a practiced ease. Yuuta’s hands froze as he felt the material come loose, falling to the floor. 

The look on his face was one you would never forget, his eyes wide and face red, it was cute how amazed he seemed to be. You leaned toward him, shivering as your nipples brushed up against the palms of his hands. 

His hands, rough from using his sword, kneaded your soft breasts. The pads of his fingers teasingly rubbing against your sensitive nipples, it felt so much nicer when he touched you than when you touched yourself. Yuuta didn’t know what he was doing, you knew that, but that didn’t matter when it felt so good.

Wanting to make him feel good too you let your hands fall to the front of his black pants, making short work of his belt before he could stop you. Pushing them down wasn’t hard, but he was trying to keep them up, moving his hips to try and move beyond your reach. He was still too fixated on kneading your breasts that he didn’t even think to use his hands.

While he was distracted, a thought crossed your mind, a bold one not unlike the thought you had in the car. Quickly you decided that you’d rather push this night as far as it could go than wait for Yuuta to make more of a move.

You pushed on his hips just hard enough to send him falling onto your bed. Softly bouncing in surprise as he hadn’t expected that. Yuuta looked up at you, wondering if he had done something wrong. You watched his eyes grow even wider as you got on your knees before him. Reaching out, you looped your fingers into his waistband and pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing his cock, hard and curving up toward his belly button.

Wonder and lust mixed inside you as you moved to feel him, your hand wrapping around him slowly. A gasp left his lips as you felt just how soft the skin on his hard cock was, it felt so perfect in your hand.

Before you could do anything else, a hand tightly wound in your hair, pulling you up just enough to meet Yuuta’s lips in a desperate kiss. The kiss was messy, your teeth bumping together as your tongue brushed up against his. Both of you were wound tight with excitement and a yearning for each other's bodies. 

As messy as the kiss was, it was your first kiss. Sloppy and frantic, but it somehow felt like you both were just excited to be intimate with one another. You felt Yuuta’s hand leave your hair, allowing you to pull back enough to breathe. Looking up at him made you want to kiss him again, his lips wet and mouth open slightly.

“I, figured we should, you know, have our first kiss before, well before whatever you're doing,” Yuuta’s nervousness could be felt as he spoke, tripping over his words as you continued to kneel before him.

Yuuta’s lapse back into shyness from his demanding kiss made your heart swell. No matter what was happening, he was still just as adorable as always. 

You smiled up at him before returning your eyes to the leaking cock in front of you. You could tell just how excited he was, and you couldn’t deny you were excited too.

“Ever since I noticed you staring at my tits so much, I’ve thought about how much you probably want to feel them,” You explained, nervousness making you feel awkward as you spoke. “I thought you’d like this too.”

You cupped your breasts in your hands, adjusting the way you sat until you were at the right angle to lean forward and envelop his cock with them. A needy whine left his throat as you squeezed Yuuta’s cock in between your soft breasts. You could feel his thighs tremble as you slowly moved them up and down, enjoying the feeling of his throbbing cock between them.

Yuuta didn’t know what to do with his hands, lifting both of them to his mouth to try and keep all the sounds he was making inside. Neither of you wanted to wake anyone that would stop this. With every pass of the head of his cock in between your soft flesh you could feel him leaking all over your chest.

The noises you pulled from Yuuta had devolved from soft moans to whimpers the longer you stroked his cock. You weren’t sure how much longer he would last, but if his strained cock was any indication, he was close. The flushed head stood out against the skin on your bare chest.

Your movements felt euphoric to Yuuta, your skin so much softer than he could have imagined. The way your flesh cradled his cock made it hard for him to keep going. You just made him feel so much better than his hand could. 

Yuuta’s hips moved, following your lead. After a few shallow tries he was thrusting earnestly into your soft breasts. You tried to match his pace, but his eagerness proved more impatient. Slowing your motions, you allowed him to fuck himself until he couldn’t any longer.

Yuuta came suddenly, release hitting you on the chest and face. Neither of you had expected it to happen yet. His thrusts slowed as he settled back on the bed, allowing you to keep up your movements, milking every drop from him. 

Reaching behind you, you grabbed your discarded shirt and wiped the mess off of your face and chest. He had laid back on your bed as you cleaned yourself up. Crawling up next to him, you kissed his cheek, there would be more time to explore each other later.

[badbatchdalorian]

Missing Piece - Part 1: Are You Mandalorians?

MEDIA: The Bad Batch (2021-2024), The Mandalorian (2019-2023) CHARACTERS: The Bad Batch & Din Djarin (Young) RATING: T (14+) TAGS: not canon compliant, PTSD, trauma, childhood trauma, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, family fluff, Tech lives, protective siblings (more here) SUMMARY: In this galaxy far, far away, it's experimental unit Clone Force 99 that saves Din Djarin instead of the Mandalorians, forever altering not only his fate, but also their own. How they manage to survive with not one, but two young soldiers-in-training under their wings proves just how far they're willing to go to keep their family's missing piece as close as possible. cross-posted from ao3, where updates are more frequent

PART 1: Are You Mandalorians?

Hunter flipped his knife into the air just as the emergency comm channel began to blare. He jumped in his seat and narrowly avoided missing—and being cut by—the blade as it fell back into his grasp. Every head turned towards the cockpit, though some snapped more quickly than others. Wrecker was noticeably groggy as he groaned in dismay.

“C’mon!” Wrecker exclaimed, heaving a breath as he did so. “I was havin’ the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks! ”

Hunter had already started towards the cockpit, and he knew Tech wouldn’t be far behind.

“Complaining about new action?” Crosshair huffed. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I can’t face new action without any sleep ,” Wrecker insisted.

Hunter tuned them out as he reached the Marauder ’s controls. He sat down in the co-pilot’s chair and pressed the button, watching as a blue image flickered to life. Hunter’s brow shot up as a Togrutan silhouette formed more fully.

“General?” Hunter managed the title even amidst his own surprise. He didn’t need Tech to tell him that General Shaak Ti being on the other end of the emergency comm was highly unusual, though he could practically feel the thought simmering in Tech’s brain from the pilot’s chair beside him.

“ Sergeant .” General Ti was as calm as ever, bowing her head in greeting before going on. “ I understand your squad is currently en route back to Kamino? ”

“That is correct,” Tech answered for his brother. He adjusted his goggles before letting his fingers fly over the controls. “We are approximately a single rotation and three additional standard hours away, given how distant our point of origin was.”

“ Is there any chance your squad is near the Relgim sector? ” General Ti’s expression morphed into something Hunter had never seen in the general before: desperation. “ We’ve just received a dire call for help, but the settlement is too remote for anyone else to get there in time. I saw your squad’s current route and hoped it wasn’t too late .”

Tech had already begun to analyze where in hyperspace they were the moment General Ti had requested it. Hunter fought back the exhaustion creeping into the corners of his mind as he pressed for more information. “Where would we be headed, General?”

General Ti still looked troubled as she responded. “ Aq Vetina .”

“In that case…” Tech paused, reaching for the hyperspace lever and pulling it back.

Hunter gripped the nearest support he could find as the Marauder shuddered out of hyperspace. Something fell behind them, and Wrecker grunted as Crosshair cursed loudly. Hunter chuckled, shaking his head—and knowing full well any other squad leader would have been mortified to have such a thing happen in front of a Jedi general.

“Your timing could not have been more optimal, General.” Tech spoke to General Ti while he focused on piloting the Marauder towards a distant world. “We are currently in the Relgim sector, and we are now on approach to Aq Vetina.”

General Ti let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly lightening as she did so. “ Thank the Force. ” She focused on Hunter as she went on. “ Your orders are to engage only if the Separatist forces can be handled by your squad alone. If not… then we must consider this a loss .” Hunter didn’t need to be a Force-sensitive Jedi to sense her devastation at the mere thought of such an outcome. “ But I know that if any squad can take on such forces without backup, it’s yours, Sergeant. ”

“That’s right!” Wrecker was suddenly behind Hunter, his voice much brighter than before. He grinned at the Togruta Jedi and waved. “Hey, General!”

General Ti returned his smile. “ Wrecker, it’s good to see you .” Each word was genuine, spreading a comforting warmth through Hunter’s chest. Of everyone on Kamino, she had no doubt been the kindest to Hunter and his squad growing up, and for that he was forever indebted to her. “ I’m afraid I don’t have much time to catch up, though, and neither do you. Sergeant, if you wouldn’t mind contacting me on this frequency when you have an update on the situation? ”

Hunter nodded. “Of course, General.”

General Ti returned his nod. “ Thank you, Sergeant. Your squad is this settlement’s only hope. Do not engage in a battle you know you cannot win, but keep this in mind as you prepare for what’s ahead. ”

Those were the words she left them with. Her blue image faded, and for a few moments, all Hunter could hear—even with his enhanced senses—was the soft hum of space around them.

Hunter nearly winced when Wrecker raised his voice again from just behind them. “A surprise mission? Oh, yeah!” He punched the air. “I take back what I said before. This was totally worth missin’ out on some sleep.”

“What’s going on?” Hunter spun in his chair as Echo approached. He’d been surprised that Echo hadn’t joined him and Tech inside the cockpit for the comm, but given the way the ARC trooper was stretching his neck and suppressing a yawn, he had been in the middle of a deep, and clearly much-needed, sleep. “Was that General Ti?”

Hunter nodded. “It was.” He rose from his chair and clapped his hand on Echo’s shoulder. “Gear up. We have another mission.”

Echo’s eyes doubled in size. “ What? ” He shook his head. “That can’t be right. I thought we were headed back—?”

“There’s a remote settlement we’re passing by that needs help.” Hunter set his jaw, conveying an uncharacteristic amount of severity. “The general said we’re their only chance.”

Echo immediately straightened. Hunter began to smile in satisfaction. “What are we up against?”

Hunter kept his smile even as he gently brushed past Echo to head further into the ship. “Don’t know. We have to get a closer look.” He turned his head just enough to raise his voice over his shoulder. “Tech, let me know as soon as you have a visual. As for the rest of you…” Hunter looked pointedly at Crosshair, who had been watching everything unfold from the chair he was lounging in. “Get ready for a fight.”

Wrecker cheered in the background as Crosshair raised the corner of his mouth in a much more subtle form of celebration. Hunter could see the exhaustion looming within the depths of his brother’s eyes, and the darkening of the circles that hung underneath them, but that exhaustion was overpowered by their genuine love for what they did best: battle.

Hunter himself felt all of it—the exhaustion, the excitement, the addicting rush of adrenaline that shot through every single vein and nerve in his body. This time, however, he also felt something that he didn’t always experience, at least not to this degree. It was the same thing that had been written all over General Ti’s face.

He wanted to help these people, and he felt responsible for their safety.

But Hunter also felt responsible for his own squad, just as he always had. The weight of their flawless success rate got heavier with each new mission, though the success rate paled in comparison to the safety of his brothers. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice any one of them for a mission, not even one like this.

As hard as that truth would always be to swallow.

Hunter shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind just like always and focused on gearing up, paying extra attention to the way his armor snapped into place. He spared a look around and saw that Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo had made just as much progress as himself, with Tech well on his way after he had put the ship on autopilot for the time being.

Hunter wasn’t looking forward to a reality where this rush and preparation for battle wasn’t necessary. Based on what General Ti had told them, it was very likely that they could be forced to bail after seeing what they were up against.

The last thing Hunter reached for was his helmet before he strided back towards the cockpit. He could see Aq Vetina on approach through the viewport, a small world that didn’t get much bigger even as the ship got closer.

“ Force .” Echo’s voice was a mere breath behind Hunter, but the sergeant wasn’t surprised by his close presence. He had sensed Echo’s whereabouts long before he had spoken. “That’s a small planet.” He exhaled, his voice dropping lower. “No wonder why they need help so badly.”

“Let’s just hope we can provide it.” Hunter turned towards Tech as he joined them. Tech returned to the pilot’s chair and Hunter stood behind him, letting Echo take the co-pilot’s seat. “Tech, how’s it looking from here?”

“I’ll have a better idea once I’ve navigated us closer.” Tech gently pushed the Marauder ’s steering wheel ahead, allowing the Omicron-class shuttle to move forward through the stars. 

Hunter could sense the shadows of Wrecker and Crosshair behind him, no doubt just as curious about what awaited them. Despite the fact they were all—at least, almost all—just sleeping peacefully a few minutes ago, they were itching for a fight, especially one that sounded so critical.

For once, the squad remained silent as Tech continued to steer the ship forward. The tension was so thick that the sound of the proximity sensor going off made everyone jump.

“I’m clocking… one Separatist ship.” Tech sounded unimpressed as he continued to analyze the incoming data.

They all waited a beat before Wrecker spoke up. “That’s it?”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Is it a command ship?”

“Negative. I assume they have already left the system.” Tech’s voice lowered only slightly as he went on. “The battle may very well be over.”

Echo shook his head. “Not if they’ve left a ship here. They could’ve realized a planet this small only needed one ship’s worth of forces and sent the others to their other targets.” He glanced up at Hunter, his gaze hopeful.

Hunter returned Echo’s look and considered their next steps. Tech and Echo could both be right, and there was only one way to find out.

“It’s worth checking out.” Hunter nodded towards the viewport. “Bring us in, Tech.”

Tech returned Hunter’s nod and obeyed the sergeant’s order. Wrecker chuckled victoriously and must’ve nudged Crosshair’s shoulder, based on the way their brother grunted in dissatisfaction soon after. Echo flashed Hunter an appreciative smile before he focused on assisting Tech with the landing sequence.

Hunter lowered himself into one of the chairs off to Echo’s right side and exhaled a gentle breath through his nose. While spontaneous planning was their usual style, this mission was too delicate to abide by their typical tactics.

Hunter thought through each step carefully and brainstormed every possibility he could come up with in the time it took the Marauder to exchange the view of the stars for the grayish-blue of Aq Vetina’s atmosphere. His heart tightened uncomfortably when he caught plumes of smoke on the horizon.

Tech started his warning. “Hunter…”

“Don’t bring us too close.” Hunter was back on his feet, setting a hand on the backs of both Tech’s and Echo’s chairs as he surveyed the situation for himself. “Keep us a few klicks away. We’ll do a loose recon before we decide if we’re engaging.”

Wrecker groaned in disappointment. “So we still don’t know if we’re gonna fight?”

Crosshair hummed. “No use in trying to save their skins if there aren’t any skins left to save.”

Echo spun around in his chair to fix Crosshair with a pointed look, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Hunter didn’t have to look back at Crosshair to know he was unaffected. Echo still hadn’t gotten used to Crosshair’s severe nature, but he would have to understand that Crosshair meant no harm by it. He was just a realist, one who still cared deeply—even if he refused to show it.

Hunter tightened his grasp on the chairs as Tech brought the Marauder down. Its descent was even smoother than usual, no doubt a result of Tech’s abundance of caution, and it wasn’t long after that Tech powered it down completely. Hunter stepped back to give him and Echo room to stand.

Hunter was already setting his helmet over his head. “Let’s get moving.” He turned and pushed himself through the small gap between Wrecker and Crosshair at the cockpit’s threshold. “The longer we wait, the more lives we put at risk.”

The lack of Hunter’s usual enthusiasm heading into a mission caused the others to follow his order without complaint or hesitation. Hunter led the way off the Marauder before he sped up into a fast jog that helped them disappear quickly into the surrounding wood.

Hunter wove through the trees easily, gently touching the bark as his senses created a reliable trail to the city that had gone up in flames. The crunching of his brothers’ footsteps behind him was reassuring, grounding him to the present even as the leadership part of his mind tried to think far ahead.

It wasn’t long before the first sandstone building came into sight. Its blue, domed roof was charred with black grime, and the sounds of blasterfire and explosions were unmistakable to Hunter’s sensitive ears.

Hunter raised his fist, signaling for the squad to stop as he pressed his palm against the sandstone. He listened more closely for another few heartbeats, letting the sounds of the firefight rattle against his eardrums.

Super battle droids. Not enough to overwhelm his squad, not at all, but certainly enough to level a settlement of this size. They had to act fast to minimize whatever damage they could.

Hunter turned to face his brothers and nodded. “We’re going in.”

Wrecker cheered.

“We’ve got SBDs.” Hunter glanced at both Wrecker and Crosshair. “Crosshair, head up. Wrecker, give him a boost.”

The pair nodded at the sergeant before bounding forward. Wrecker knelt down just enough for Crosshair to lift his foot into his brother’s cupped hands. Crosshair pushed off just as Wrecker threw his arms up, and Crosshair had more than enough air to get onto the roof. Hunter continued as they did so.

“As for the rest of us, Plan 70.” Hunter nodded at Tech. “You’re with me. We’ll head to the east,” he waved two fingers at Wrecker and Echo, “you take the west.”

Echo tightened his grasp on his blaster. “We’re on it.” With that, both he and Wrecker disappeared into the settlement, the ARC trooper guiding the way.

Hunter looked over at Tech and watched his brother tighten his grasp on his blasters. One nod was all it took for them to communicate their next move. Hunter passed Tech to lead the way to the east. They stuck close to the walls of the structures they passed, checking around each corner before moving ahead. The fight was getting closer and closer.

A new wave of adrenaline shot through Hunter’s veins like a rocket. If the stakes weren’t so high for the people they were rescuing, he would even smile at the sensation, but it felt disrespectful. He couldn’t enjoy it when there were civilians caught in the crossfire.

Hunter flinched when the helmet comm suddenly opened up. “ You four might want to speed things up ,” Crosshair warned. Hunter shared a concerned look with Tech, noting the way Tech’s gaze flashed with cautious curiosity. “ Looks like the clankers are about to have this battle won. ”

Wrecker snarled over the comms. “ Not if we can help it! ”

Crosshair sighed. “ That’s exactly what I’m saying, Wrecker .”

Hunter fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Focus. Remember what General Ti said. We’re their only chance at survival.”

Like his brothers, he didn’t mind the rush of battle, but this was different. This wasn’t blasting droids on the battlefield. This was rescuing civilians from the destruction of their home.

Hunter held his arm out in front of Tech when he caught sight of a horde of SBDs. He holstered his blaster and drew his blade from his gauntlet instead, keeping it at the ready as his other hand rose back to his helmet.

“Echo, Wrecker, status report.”

Echo answered for them. “ In position. ”

Hunter steadied himself with a breath before nodding to himself. “Move in.”

He didn’t waste another second. Hunter sprinted out from behind the protection of the nearby building and launched himself at the first droid in his path. He flung one arm around the droid’s neck from behind as the other jabbed his knife into the droid’s chest, frying its circuitry. Hunter pushed himself off the droid as it collapsed, leaping into the air and dodging blasterfire as he made a beeline for the next one.

Hunter was so lost in the familiar yet thrilling routine of battle that he paid little attention to the rest of their surroundings. It was only after he tripped over something unexpected that he was forced to stop and glance down at the unpredictable obstacle.

It was a body, clothed in red robes that tragically matched the color of their spilled blood. One quick look around the courtyard they were in proved that it was far from the only one of their people who had fallen.

Hunter blanched, but only for a moment. He couldn’t afford to take any more time. Hunter snapped his helmet up and watched as a droid threw open the doors to a bunker in the ground, taking aim with their weapon soon after.

Someone had to be alive down there. Someone they could save .

Hunter threw his knife before he had even gotten to his feet. The blade sunk into the side of the SBD’s head, causing it to stiffen before it collapsed to the side. Hunter was already running over, not bothering to retrieve his knife just yet as he awaited helping the person, or the people, who had taken refuge in the bunker.

When Hunter skidded to a stop in front of it, he nearly lost the ration that he had eaten just a few standard hours ago. He blinked in disbelief and attempted to catch his mind up with what his eyes were seeing.

It was a child, a boy no older than nine cycles, who was slowly reopening his eyes to look up at Hunter with fear, shock, and hope .

Hunter felt as if the wind had been knocked from him, the same way he always did whenever Wrecker sacked him during their sparring sessions. Still, he couldn’t afford to freeze up like this in the heat of battle, especially not when there was a helpless child staring back at him.

“It’s okay,” Hunter finally said, lifting his gloved hands up for the scared boy to see. “I’m not gonna hurt you. We’re here to help.”

The child blinked, his trembling lips parting as he tried to speak. “W-We?”

Hunter pasted on a small smile. “My squad.” He nodded in further reassurance. “We’ll keep you safe.”

The boy’s shoulders sagged in relief. He looked as if he was about to ask a question, but then thought better of it. Hunter fought to ignore the sudden ache in his chest as he glanced over his shoulder and narrowly dodged a blaster bolt.

“Stay down here for now.” Hunter was gentle with the order. “I’ll protect you from up here, and once the droids are dealt with, we’ll get out of here. Sound good?”

The boy nodded, his small fists clutching the dirt on the bottom of the bunker as he did so. Hunter let out a quiet exhale and spun back to face the battle.

Hunter lifted his fingers to his helmet as he tore the blade from the SBD’s head. “Has anyone else come across survivors? I’m protecting one right now.”

It took some time for the others to answer as they focused on blasting the last few droids. “ Negative ,” Tech answered for himself.

Echo was next. “ Same here .”

Wrecker maintained optimism. “ Not yet! ”

It was Crosshair who had to deliver the news that dropped like a stone into Hunter’s stomach. “ I’m not seeing any survivors from up here .”

Hunter’s jaw tightened as he held his position, using the SBD’s body as cover to fire off shots. They had been too late, after all. Hunter couldn’t help wondering how this boy had gotten so lucky.

That’s when he dared a look to the side of the bunker he was closest too. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a charred red slump that was half-hidden by the bunker’s damaged door.

Someone had purposefully protected the boy, and Hunter was willing to bet he knew exactly who they were. Suddenly, the boy’s hesitant attempt at a question made sense. He wanted to know if his parents were still alive.

Hunter closed his eyes behind his visor and gave his helmet a small shake. This was the part of the war he could never truly come to terms with, the part that was so easy to ignore when it was just him, his brothers, and a crowd of clankers. It was the reason why they were fighting this war in the first place.

Hunter reopened his eyes and watched as Wrecker took down the last droid. The settlement went eerily silent, and the blaster smoke made the atmosphere feel even heavier. Hunter sighed and turned back to the boy in the bunker.

There were fresh tear trails on the boy’s dirty cheeks, running from a pair of dark brown eyes that were open so wide Hunter half-feared they would pop right out of the boy’s head. Hunter put all his weapons away and lifted his helmet to show the child his face.

“Alright, we got the last of ‘em.” Hunter knelt down and rested an arm upon his propped-up knee. “Not too bad of a wait, huh?”

The boy sniffled, but Hunter caught the corners of his lips rising in a small smile. Hunter nodded at him in encouragement.

“You did great down here, following my orders.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “You listen better than my squad does.”

The child chuckled. Hunter grinned, even as his heart squeezed tighter.

“My name’s Hunter.” Hunter pressed both hands against his chestplate before he gestured towards the child. “What about you?”

The boy lifted his arm and rubbed his face with the sleeve of his red hooded robe. He hiccuped on a breath as he fought to answer Hunter’s question. “Din, s-sir.” His voice was so quiet that Hunter wouldn’t have been able to hear it if it weren’t for his enhanced senses.

“Nice to meet you, Din. I’m… sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.” And Hunter meant that. His regret was already leaving a resounding ache deep within his bones.

Hunter looked over his shoulder and saw his brothers standing close by. They all had their helmets tucked underneath their arms, their expressions giving away their curiosity. Crosshair had already joined them again.

Hunter’s gaze fell back to the ground that was littered with the bodies of both the droids and the civilians. He circled his jaw and turned back to Din.

“Okay, kid, I have one more order for you.” Hunter tightened his gloved hand into a fist and maintained the best duty voice he could manage. “Think you’re brave enough to handle it?”

Din nodded earnestly, taking one more wipe at his tears. Hunter beamed.

“That’s what I thought.” Hunter tapped the edge of the bunker. “I’m gonna help you up, and we’re gonna take you on our ship to somewhere safe. I need you to keep your eyes closed until I say so. Got it?”

Din nodded again. “That sounds easy, sir.”

Hunter let out a genuine chuckle as he raised his brow. “I knew you’d be up for the challenge.” 

Hunter leaned down into the bunker and extended a hand towards Din. The boy stood to his feet and shuffled his way over. After the two of them interlocked hands, Hunter paused, his stare meeting Din’s.

“Ready to close your eyes?”

Din gave Hunter’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter nodded. “Alright. Close ‘em.”

Din obeyed. Hunter tugged the boy up with ease, gently setting him onto the terrain at his side. Hunter tucked his helmet under his arm and stood to his feet, keeping his grasp on Din’s hand. He looked down at the boy who had his eyes shut tight enough to make the skin on his lids wrinkle.

“The rest of my squad is here, too,” Hunter told him. He spared a look at his brothers, whose expressions had all fallen at the sight of the young child. “I’ll introduce you when it’s time to open your eyes. Okay?”

Din nodded. He hesitated before he decided to say something. “T-Thank you, sirs.”

Wrecker said “Anytime, kid!” right when Crosshair said “Don’t thank us yet.” Crosshair shrugged when he was leveled with a warning glare from all four of them.

Echo’s gaze met Hunter’s before he signed the best he could with his hand. A kid?

Hunter cut his gaze over to the bunker door. Everyone’s eyes followed his. Echo’s jaw tightened as Wrecker’s brow furrowed in devastation. Tech adjusted his goggles uncomfortably, and even Crosshair shifted his weight and looked away from the sight.

Hunter addressed his squad when he spoke again. “We have to get going before they send more down.” He set his helmet over his head and gave Din’s hand a gentle squeeze to get his attention. “I’m gonna carry you so you don’t have to worry about where you’re going. Is that okay?”

Din’s voice was only growing stronger. “Yes, sir.”

Hunter let go of the boy’s hand and reached over his back. He removed his pack and tossed it to Wrecker, who caught it and nodded at the sergeant. Hunter picked Din up and guided him onto his back, helping the boy to wrap his arms around Hunter’s neck.

Only once the boy was settled did Hunter nod at his squad. “Time to go.”

Hunter wasted no more time standing around. He began to jog back the way they had first come, using his senses to recall their path. The crunching of the terrain behind him told him that the squad was matching his pace, barely exhausted by the quick battle.

They were about halfway back to the Marauder when Din broke their silence. “Hunter, sir?”

Hunter flashed him a quick look over his shoulder as he continued ahead. He huffed out a fond breath. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ kid.”

“Okay.” Din’s voice was wobbling a bit. An uneasy knot tied up in Hunter’s stomach. “I was just wondering… when are we gonna go back and help everyone else?”

Hunter nearly stopped dead in his tracks. Only his desire to keep Din from panicking kept him moving. The knot in his stomach rose into his chest, making it difficult to breathe—and suddenly mindful of Din’s extra weight upon his back.

It was like a blaster wound straight to the chest.

“Kid…”

Hunter inhaled a soft breath. Din was no doubt old enough to tell whether Hunter was lying or not. Hunter had already done what he could for Din by keeping him from having to remember the sight of their bodies. He deserved to know the truth; it was better for him to hear it now than later.

“There was no one else for us to save.”

The silence that followed was louder than any other Hunter had ever heard. He wasn’t used to silence, not with senses that picked up on just about everything, but focusing on this one now was utterly painful.

Hunter’s jaw tensed and refused to relax until Din spoke again. “Oh.” Din’s arms tightened around Hunter’s neck. “Okay.”

Din’s tone was one of distant acceptance. It shattered Hunter even more that a child like him had to come to terms with something like this.

Suddenly, he was angry. Angry at the Separatists, at the war, at the galaxy . This was a kind of loss that Hunter, thankfully, never had to experience, but if he was given the choice to face it in this child’s place, he would have.

But then he glanced back at his squadmates, his brothers , and Hunter selfishly thanked the Force that he never had to know what this kind of loss was like.

The sight of the Marauder was relieving, but not relieving enough to dispel all the darkness and tension from Hunter. He could sense the same weight upon the shoulders of his brothers behind him as they reentered the ship. It was obvious in the way Tech quietly dismissed himself to the cockpit for takeoff while the rest of them began to set down their gear, each one careful to make less noise than necessary.

Hunter helped Din’s feet get back to the floor. He lifted his helmet and set it aside, kneeling in front of the boy whose eyes were still closed diligently. Hunter softened.

“Okay, kid. You can open your eyes now.”

Din obeyed. He blinked a few times as he glanced around the space, his jaw falling open in wonder. Hunter chuckled to himself as Din’s hands clutched into small fists at his sides. “A spaceship ?”

“Technically, this is a shuttle,” Tech corrected him from the cockpit. Hunter fought the urge to roll his eyes fondly. “An Omicron-class attack shuttle, to be precise.”

Din just let out an impressed, exaggerated exhale. “ Whoa .”

The boy’s attention then fell on the squadmates who were huddled behind Hunter. The sergeant spun around to take a look at them himself.

Echo’s arms were at his sides, his brow pinched in distress. Wrecker had a warm smile on his face. Crosshair’s arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful and considering. Tech was still in the cockpit.

Hunter looked back at Din, whose chin tucked closer to his chest as the boy shyly addressed the room. “Are you Mandalorians?”

Immediately, Wrecker burst out into fond laughter. Echo gave him a light shove, despite the smile that started to tug at his own lips. Even Crosshair was wearing an amused smirk. Hunter chuckled to himself.

That hearty rumbling quickly disappeared from Hunter’s chest the moment he heard Din’s heartbeat quicken. He turned to see the boy’s gaze cast downward, his face reddened underneath the grime that coated his tan skin. Din started to shrink in on himself, clearly embarrassed by whatever error he had made.

Wrecker stepped forward before Hunter himself could act to remedy the situation. He knelt down to Din’s level and offered him a smile. “You’re right about us bein’ soldiers, kiddo, but not Mandalorians. We’re clones.”

Hunter heard Din’s racing heartbeat slow back down at Wrecker’s warmth as the boy’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Then why don’t you look like each other?”

Wrecker looked over at Hunter, who shrugged at his brother in amusement. “Fair point,” Hunter murmured. Wrecker turned back to Din.

“We’re clones, but…we’re different.” Wrecker jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Wanna meet us all?”

Din nodded earnestly. Hunter smiled again. He was trying to assess Din for any signs of shock, but clearly, Wrecker’s distractions were working for the time being. Tech could make a proper assessment once he was done piloting them into hyperspace.

Wrecker pointed to himself. “I’m Wrecker, and I like to blow things up!”

The delivery of the fun fact was enough to make Din laugh. Hunter’s chest warmed for the first time since he had rescued the boy.

Wrecker turned to face Echo and Crosshair. Echo took the glance as an invitation to step forward, kneeling down at Wrecker’s side. “I’m Echo.” He rested his left arm against his knee and managed a smile, though Hunter could clearly see the sadness set deep within his gaze. “It’s an honor to meet someone as brave as you.”

Din smiled at Echo’s praise. The warmth in Hunter’s chest blazed into a steady flame.

The boy’s smile faded when he looked down and caught sight of Echo’s scomp link and cybernetic legs. His expression was marred by worry. “Echo, sir, can I ask you a question?”

Getting rid of formalities was no doubt an adjustment for Din, one Hunter was more than willing to excuse. Echo held Din’s gaze and nodded confidently, allowing the boy to go on.

“What happened to your arm and legs?” Din cradled his own hands close to his chest. “Are you okay?”

Echo chuckled, the sound full of genuine warmth as he nodded again. “Yeah, kid, I’m alright.” Echo set his hand on Din’s shoulder. The boy relaxed underneath the soldier’s touch. “Something bad happened to me, but…” Echo paused, his gaze searching before he focused on Din again, “these guys found me and helped me learn how to make the most of it.”

Din brightened at that. His shoulders lifted, and his chest puffed up in hope. “Does that mean they’ll do the same for me, too?”

Hunter was about to answer in the affirmative from the boy’s side, but Echo beat him to the punch. “No doubt about it.” Echo gave Din’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “And so will I.”

Din’s smile remained, though his gaze shifted from Echo to something beyond him. The light of curiosity flickered in his gaze again, something to match the quicker rush of air Hunter heard in the boy’s lungs. Din’s voice was almost a whisper as he spoke.

“What’s his name?”

Wrecker and Echo both turned their heads to look at Crosshair, who was standing just behind them. Wrecker huffed and faced Din, gesturing with his head back towards their youngest brother. “That’s Crosshair.”

Din blinked a few times at the sniper, who had already tasked himself with balancing a new toothpick between his lips. Hunter watched as the boy studied his brother before he spoke up again.

“Do you like to shoot things, Crosshair?”

Crosshair’s arms stayed crossed over his chest even as his armored shoulders lifted with his amused exhale. “I do.” His brow shot up. “Looking to be a new target?”

Hunter narrowed his eyes and prepared a proper disciplinary speech for Crosshair, but Din’s laugh split right through his thoughts. “You’re funny!”

The corner of Crosshair’s mouth rose at that. Hunter’s tightened jaw relaxed. The kid could not only understand, but also appreciate Crosshair’s crude humor. He was already fitting in around here.

Not that he would be staying for long. The weight of reporting back to General Ti sat heavy upon Hunter’s shoulders, as he already knew what would result from telling her about their sole survivor. They would be redirected to Coruscant, where they would drop off Din at one of the refugee organizations—likely one created just for orphans.

What Hunter couldn’t fully understand was why that was an order he had no desire to comply with. Though, it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t want to comply with an order. He and his squad had been that way ever since he could remember.

Still, this was different, and one look at the brothers around him confirmed it. Everyone was glowing at this child, who had just been through the unimaginable, but was still displaying an admirable amount of strength and curiosity.

Finally, Tech stepped out of the cockpit, his voice breaking through the squad’s brief silence in the hold. “We are en route to Kamino once again,” Tech informed them, though he looked pointedly at Hunter. “Although I do expect to be rerouted to Coruscant once you have briefed General Ti on our… findings.” Tech adjusted his goggles as he stared at Din.

The boy pointed at Tech’s eyes. “I like your goggles, sir.”

Tech lit up and knelt down eagerly in the space between Echo and Hunter. “These goggles were designed to enhance my less-than-average eyesight,” he explained to Din. “As something had to give in order for the Kaminoans to enhance my genetics and carefully craft my exceptional mind.”

Din’s brow scrunched up. “Enhance your genetics?”

“That is correct.” Tech gestured with his head to the squad around him. “It is why our physical appearances vary, despite the fact we are all made from the same genetic template.”

Din looked at Hunter for guidance, and the sergeant nodded at him. “We’re named for our enhancements.” Hunter tapped his own chestplate. “I’m good at tracking and sensing things. Wrecker’s good at… well, wrecking things. Crosshair’s the best sharpshooter you’ll ever meet. And like Tech here said, he’s got an incredible mind.”

Din looked almost worriedly at Echo. “What about Echo?”

Echo offered the boy a reassuring smile. “I wasn’t originally a part of this squad. I got my name a long time ago, when I was still with my batchmates.”

Din tilted his head. “Batchmates?”

Hunter read Echo carefully as the ARC trooper cleared his throat and went on. “My brothers. The clones I was born with and trained with until I started to fight for the Republic.” Echo’s gaze lightened as he went on. “My brothers called me ‘Echo’ because I used to repeat all our orders.”

Din nodded in understanding. He looked around the group as a smile spread across his lips. “I like all your names.”

Tech lifted a finger. “Technically, they are nicknames. We were not given names when we were created, only numerical designations.”

“Oh.” Din began to deflate again. “I was only given a name, but… I wish I had a nickname like you guys.”

Wrecker set a hand on Din’s shoulder. “Well, you gotta’ know a lot about Mandalorians to think that’s what we were, right?”

Din looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He blinked in succession and rushed to correct himself. “I mean, Wrecker.” He hesitated before going on. “I learned a lot about them in galactic history. And my pare…”

Din came to an abrupt stop. Grief powerful enough to knock Hunter off his feet washed over the young boy’s face, though he still pushed on to finish his thought—even if his voice was considerably smaller.

“They used to tell me a lot of Mandalorian stories.”

Wrecker shared a concerned look with Hunter. Still, he maintained his usual cheery disposition as he focused on Din. “That makes you an honorary Mandalorian in my book, kid. How about Mando for a nickname?”

That at least got Din to brighten again. “Mando…” Din even began to smile again. Hunter was overwhelmed by a wave of relief. “I like that.”

“Good.” Wrecker mirrored Din’s smile. “That means you gotta’ catch us up on all the stories, though!”

As Wrecker continued to keep Din busy, Hunter nudged Tech with his armored shoulder to get his attention. His brother gave him an inquisitive glance, which Hunter responded to by gesturing with his head back towards the cockpit. Hunter stood and Tech followed him over to the open threshold.

“I’m gonna contact General Ti,” Hunter nodded towards Din. “Give the kid an assessment to see what symptoms of shock he might be presenting. He’s a strong kid, I’ll give him that, but I’m not convinced that he’s just forgotten about everything that happened.”

Tech returned Hunter’s nod. “That would be a wise conclusion.”

Hunter set his hand on Tech’s shoulder before he turned away to walk into the cockpit. He paused just in front of the communicator, heaving a breath through his nostrils as he closed his eyes in consideration.

There was something tugging at his gut, squeezing his lungs hard enough to make breathing feel like a chore. Reporting to a higher ranking officer, even a general, wasn’t anything new for Hunter, so he knew that wasn’t the problem. It was something else.

Hunter reopened his eyes and spared a glance over his shoulder. Wrecker and Echo were distracting Din with more conversation as Tech tended to him, causing their soft voices and Din’s gentle laughter to fill the space. Even Crosshair looked fondly amused from where he was still standing behind his brothers.

Hunter smiled. The Marauder was… warmer. Lighter. Happier . He hadn’t seen it like this ever since the war had started, since before his brothers sourced their joy from things much more innocent than warfare.

Then Hunter faced the communicator again, and his stomach clenched hard enough that he thought he might be sick right there.

Something wasn’t right. Hunter wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he just needed better sleep than he’d been getting these days, but deep down, he knew exactly what it was, because he knew exactly what order was awaiting him on the other end of the call.

Was he really about to drop this freshly orphaned child off like some kind of cargo shipment?

Hunter shook his head. There was no other choice; they were soldiers, and there was no business exposing a kid to a life like theirs. Hunter had never thought twice about keeping survivors around before. He wasn’t sure why it should be any different this time.

The sergeant forced himself to press the button on the communicator before he could hesitate again. After a few heavy heartbeats, General Ti’s holographic image appeared in front of him.

“ Sergeant Hunter. You’re reporting sooner than expected .” There was no missing the caution in General Ti’s tone as she undoubtedly prepared herself for the worst. “ How did your mission go? ”

Hunter steadied himself with a breath and looked apologetically at the general. “I’m afraid we were too late, General. The settlement’s been destroyed.”

The general blanched, though she otherwise maintained her usual composure. “ Any survivors? ”

Hunter circled his jaw, once again considering his words. As disobedient as he and his brothers could be, this wasn’t something he should lie about. “Just one. A child.”

General Ti’s head lowered. After a brief moment of silence, she spoke in a softer voice than usual. “ May the Force be with him, and with those he knew who have faded into it. ”

Hunter didn’t respond. He was waiting to receive his order, one that he should have had no problem following. They had disobeyed much more complex orders before.

“ Bring the child to Coruscant. I will call ahead and let them know you’re coming. ”

Hunter nodded. “Yes, General.” He cleared his throat, but kept the sound quiet enough for only him to hear. “We’ll see you back on Kamino after our… detour.”

General Ti returned his nod, and she even managed a genuine smile for him. “ I’ll be looking forward to it, Sergeant .”

Thankfully, General Ti ended the call there. Hunter released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and closed his eyes.

The sergeant didn’t know what to make of the Force, and like many other clones, he had his own suspicions about it, but whatever was suddenly tugging on his heartstrings certainly felt like a mysterious force. It screamed at him to disobey in a way he hadn’t experienced before, not even in their riskiest endeavors.

Hunter reopened his eyes and turned his head over his shoulder. The dynamic between everyone had already changed, with Wrecker, Echo, and Tech huddled on the ground around Din as the boy spoke with wide, excited eyes. Even Crosshair was lingering closer, his chair spun in their direction as he smiled around the toothpick between his lips.

The sergeant reached out with his senses to listen more closely.

“... and zzsskk! ”

Din raised his arm as if he was pretending to pull a weapon from a sheath. Wrecker let out an eager gasp, his gaze glittering almost as much as the child’s. Tech looked pensive, while Echo beamed at Din the best he could.

“The warrior had a glowing sword!”

“Glowing sword?” Wrecker chuckled and nudged Tech. “Now that’s wizard.”

“Technically, if this ‘sword’ did have a luminescent glow, it would classify as a lightsaber,” Tech spoke up. He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Though I suppose vibroswords and blades can, at times, produce luminescence of their own accord…”

Din blinked at Tech in innocent confusion. “Huh?”

“Uh, that’s alright,” Echo waved his hand at Din in reassurance. “What happened next, Mando?”

Din’s shoulders lifted at the nickname, and he gave Echo an enthusiastic nod before going on.

Hunter gave his sensitive hearing a rest as he smiled to himself. Every heartbeat on that ship was at ease for the first time in much too long. He knew his brothers enjoyed battle, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still feel the stress of it. This was the calmest they all had been since the earliest days of their deployment.

Surely, that couldn’t be a coincidence. Hunter just didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it.

════════════════════

Echo was more than happy to volunteer for the first watch shift, and he had no intentions of rotating out anytime soon. He had offered his bunk to their young passenger, and the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the child’s slumber. If anyone knew how important that first bout of rest after such trauma and loss was, it was Echo.

In fact, he’d been remembering a lot of those moments ever since they left Aq Vetina.

Such as Echo’s own eternal slumber after the Citadel. He shivered just thinking about the confusing stretch of darkness and flickering light that seemed as if it would never end. Sequences had run over his eyes constantly, letting light in each time they did, but they were never enough to bring him back completely.

Echo blinked his weightless eyelids to relieve the burning ache within them.

It had taken a long time for him to get comfortable with sleeping again, and clearly, he was still adjusting. He had been good about it for a while, but there was something about Din’s tragedy that had felt so personal to him.

Echo had understood it, that feeling of losing everybody, especially those held closest to the heart. He hadn’t even been given proper time to grieve Fives after he woke from his stasis. Somehow, that hurt more than the idea of having to witness his brother’s fate with his own eyes. He couldn’t even be there to protect his brother from the relentless force of death.

And then there was the explosion causing the fate of Din’s parents, and Echo was brought right back to Rishi Moon, to the graveyard of his three other brothers.

Echo tapped his scomp against his thigh and closed his eyes. No, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Facing these horrors in his conscious mind was bad enough.

Plus, if it wasn’t him out here, it would be Hunter, and Echo couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother get more than an hour of sleep—if that. Hunter had been teetering on a migraine purely from his senses getting little to no rest before Echo had assured him for a third time that he would be just fine having a solo watch shift.

Echo’s eyes only reopened when he heard gentle footsteps behind him. Knowing better than to actually expect a threat, Echo let out a sigh and prepared to lecture Hunter for not staying asleep.

But when Echo turned his chair around, his gaze was forced to lower to meet his visitor’s. Lost brown eyes met his own, the grief within them three times larger than the boy’s own stature.

“Hey, kid.” Echo kept his voice low to keep the others from waking. “What’s up? Can’t sleep?”

Din shook his head, his stare falling to his arms as he pulled the sleeves of his red tunic over his fists. His words were barely a whisper as he spoke. “I keep seeing them.”

Echo’s heart splintered within his chest, but he kept a steady expression for the boy. “Your people?”

Din’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath before he lifted his head again. His lower lip quivered as his gaze sparkled with unshed tears. “My parents.”

Echo deflated, his eyes cutting away from the child for just a fraction of a moment. The swell of grief that rose within him was strong enough to make him lose his breath, though he found his voice and recovered quickly for Din’s sake. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am. I…”

Echo paused, pressing his lips together as he considered his next words carefully.

“I know how hard it can be to sleep after things like this.”

Din’s brow wrinkled at him, the light of curiosity—and a sense of hope—sparkling in the dark depths of his devastation. “You do?”

Echo let out a gentler breath this time. The memories had already been on his mind, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to coax them out just a bit further to ease this young boy’s fresh wound. “I do.” Echo managed a smile. “Want to hear a story?”

Din nodded eagerly, no doubt grateful for the distraction. Echo let out a soft chuckle and tapped the co-pilot’s seat next to him. Din hopped right up, spinning in the chair to face Echo as he tucked his hands underneath his legs and swung them back and forth in anticipation.

Now, if only Echo could find a way to keep this story from making things worse.

“These guys here,” Echo gestured with his head back towards the bunks, “they’re my brothers. We’re a squad. But… it wasn’t always that way, like I told you before. They're batchmates, and I used to have my own, too.”

Din’s expression began to fall as he realization dawned over him. “What happened to your batchmates, Echo?”

Hearing his own name from the boy’s lips made it even harder to say the truth out loud for some reason. Echo swallowed hard and pushed on. “They’re gone.”

Din frowned. “I’m sorry.” He adjusted the way he was sitting on his hands before he continued. “How many brothers did you have?”

Echo brought himself back to the past for a moment, when he and the rest of Domino Squad were just eager cadets who had finally managed to get along and pass the test. Back when they had their whole lives ahead of them.

Back when he was naive enough to really believe that.

“Four.”

Echo smiled, and it was genuine. He kept a careful eye on Din and saw the boy lightening up the more he spoke. Sharing his pain was making Din’s more manageable, and Echo would bleed himself out if it meant this boy would get closer to healing.

“Their names were Droidbait, Cutup, Hevy, and Fives.” Echo’s voice wavered on the last one.

Din’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm, even in the midst of the heavy topic. “How did they all get their names? Was it like yours?”

Echo bobbed his head. “In a way. Droidbait… well, he kept acting like bait for the training droids, and he’d get hit by ‘em all the time.”

Din’s brow pinched together. “Did it hurt?”

“Not too bad, but he definitely had a lot of bruises.” Echo waited until Din had relaxed to keep going. “Cutup got his name from one of our trainers. This trainer… he was real tough on us, but Cutup wasn’t afraid to talk back to him. So, the guy called him a cutup, and he used that as his name.”

Din giggled. “That’s wizard.”

Echo grinned, recognizing Wrecker’s vernacular on Din’s tongue already. “Isn’t it?” He took a deep breath as Hevy’s image entered his mind. “We named my brother Hevy, because not only was he the strongest of us, but he also loved heavy machinery. He used the biggest blaster the clones are allowed to carry, a Z-6 blaster cannon.”

Din’s eyes doubled in wonder. “ Whoa .”

Echo chuckled. Hevy would’ve loved this kid, no doubt.

That left him with one more name to review. Echo fought the glassiness that had already started to overtake his vision.

“Fives got his name from his CT number. Do you remember Tech telling you about those?” Din nodded. “Fives’ was CT-5555, so he shortened it to Fives. Fives and I… we were really close, because we lost our other brothers early on in the war.”

Din deflated. He searched Echo’s gaze before he asked a question in a quiet and cautious voice. “Can I ask what happened to them?”

The corners of Echo’s mouth lifted as he nodded. “They’d want their stories to be told.” Echo exhaled a breath and went on. “We were stationed at an outpost on a moon. It was our first mission, and we had been there for a long time. Nothing had ever happened, but one night, we were suddenly attacked by droids.”

Din inhaled a sharp breath. Echo softened; it would be all too familiar for the boy, based on what Echo had seen once they had arrived on Aq Vetina.

“Droidbait was one of the first to try to hold them off, but there were too many of them. The rest of us got out of the station, but Cutup got taken by local wildlife. We had some reinforcements arrive, two of our finest commanding officers, but even they weren’t enough to overrun the droids.”

Echo’s mouth was getting dry. It was never quite easier to tell this story, but it did heal little fractals in his soul each time. The pain would turn into mending eventually.

“That’s when Hevy gave his life for ours by blowing up the whole base. His actions not only saved both our commanding officers, Fives, and I, but it also told the Republic that we were in trouble, and prevented a major attack on our homeworld of Kamino.”

Din’s lip was starting to quiver again, but his voice was still fairly strong when he managed a response to Echo’s story. “He was a hero.”

Echo closed his eyes and blew out a heavy breath. “He was. Because of what he did, giving his life for Fives and I, we were able to fight in the war for a long time, side-by-side. His loss, and my other brothers’, never got easier to deal with, but… I know that they did what they did for a reason, and I wanted to honor that the best I could by moving forward and continuing their fight.”

Din was silent after that. Echo reopened his eyes to see the boy staring at his lap, fresh tear tracks visible on his cheeks. Echo’s heart leapt into his throat at the mere thought of accomplishing the opposite of what he had wanted by upsetting Din further, but before he could do anything, Din began to move.

The boy slid off the chair and practically fell into Echo’s side, wrapping his arms around the ARC trooper the best he could. Echo froze for a few heartbeats, too shocked to do anything just yet, but he eventually came to his senses and gently held Din closer to his side.

Din sniffled back his tears and spoke, his voice muffled from where he was practically buried in Echo’s side. “I’m sorry about your brothers, Echo.”

Echo was selfishly grateful that Din didn’t ask about Fives. That was a story he wasn’t ready to tell.

“It’s okay.” Echo gave the boy’s back a soft tap. “I’ve moved on now, but it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten them.” Echo dared to lower his voice and go on. “One day, you’ll be able to do the same, too, because their sacrifice was the same as Hevy’s.”

Din lifted his face from Echo’s side. It was still wet with tears, but there was a newfound strength there that the ARC trooper could clearly see within his dark eyes. “They’re heroes, just like your brother.”

Echo smiled and nodded. “They are.”

Din returned his smile. His expression morphed into something more pensive before he spoke again. “If your brothers all give each other nicknames, and you all gave me a nickname… does that mean I’m your brother now, too?”

Din’s expression was something so breathlessly hopeful that Echo found himself speechless at first. After so many years spent witnessing the galaxy’s outward opposition to clones, it was hard to imagine that someone on the outside, even a child like Din, would ever want to be counted amongst their ranks. But here he was, practically pleading with his eyes full of wonder to be considered one of them.

And who was Echo to refuse him?

“Yeah, Mando.” Echo set his hands on Din’s shoulders and nodded. “It does.”

Din grinned, the last traces of sadness fleeing from his gaze as he bounced on his heels. He then retreated back to his seat and all but jumped into it. Echo blinked a few times at the quick and unexpected change in pace, but then he laughed.

It was all too similar to both Fives and Hevy.

“Well, I better make good on my namesake then, right?”

Din clapped his hands together excitedly, then tensed as his head whipped towards the bunks. When no one grumbled or swore about getting woken up, Din relaxed and continued. This time, his voice was a whisper.

“Can I tell you another story?”

Echo smiled and leaned back in his own chair, suddenly grateful he wasn’t alone anymore. “I’d be honored.”

Din straightened in severity and nodded, letting his smile linger as he got right into it.

“This one starts ten thousand years ago, with a man named Mandalore the Great.”

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