#Lone Worker Alarms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blublublujk · 8 months

Text

i just fucked your girl (and she loved it)

oneshot

word count: 11k

genre: established relationship (reader x namjoon), dark/morally gray characters and decisions

pairings: ghost hoseok x y/n and y/n x fiancé namjoon

summary:

A very lonely, horny ghost comes to haunt your dreams (and fulfills your every sexual desire).

warnings: oh my god get ready this is gonna get long. swearing, cheating?? (is it really cheating if he's dead? i'll let you decide), explicit sexual content; sexual "nightmares", unprotected vaginal sex AND anal (ITS TIME :D), rough sex, sub/dom dynamics, no safe word, submission, dirty talk, hoseok refers to people he comes across as victims (he doesn't force anyone i promise, not unless they want to ofc), masturbation, fingering, petplay? (the reader likes being called kitten), slight hand kink, slut shaming (oopsies), use of spit (oops again), use of lube, hickeys, lots of begging, hoseok's a bit mean but the ending will make it up a bit ISTG, namjoon's an innocent sweetheart, reader feels a lot of guilt, ass play (YAY), rimming (YAY pt2), mentions to gay sex and clown kink (you'll see), hoseok's like a ghost sex worker and the reader sorta manifests him, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, come shot, blowjob, hair pulling, daddy kink, breast play, creampie, a bit of a sad/angsty ending, so sorry if anything is missing I RLLY TRIED

btw there's sex scenes between namjoon and the reader AND hoseok and the reader so they both get their share.

a.n: happy fucking halloween. sorry this got a little sad towards the end, but i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i think i'll live in this world for a while. i'm so obsessed with this probably, my favorite work yet. i think this is my smuttiest work too? idk. i was gonna delete like half of it because i hate myself sometimes but i figured you guys would enjoy something a little longer so i typed and typed until my lil heart desired and this beast was created. btw i finished this at exactly 6:13pm. i thought i'd let yall know, if anyone's as crazy as me :D im so curious what you guys think about this one so feel free to comment (only if you want too ofc ^.^) idk when i'll be back with something new but please be patient with me. i promise im not leaving lol i just get busy. OKIE THIS IS SO LONG SORRY AND ENJOY. byeee <3

p.s. i do plan to write an epilogue cuz this got crazy at the end. so much left unsaid. my brain is sooo... lol

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

It was the same damn nightmare.

For the past three weeks you had been waking up in coldsweat, heart nearly beating out of your chest, breathing so out of control. You could barely hold yourself up.

And still somehow, you woke up drenching your panties of your own slick arousal.

It was the same nightmare from yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. You would end up in a dark, ominous apartment. It was yours, but somehow different. The apartment was pitch black, flashing red lights from time-to-time, as if someone in the building had pulled the emergency alarm. You would crumble in your bed, closing your eyes and praying it would end soon. That’s when he would appear.

A man in all black, long dark tousled hair. His teeth were bright, you could tell by the smile on his face while he watched you wither away in your sheets. The glow in his dull, sharp eyes would shine even in the dark.

He watched as you squirmed in your bed, feeling heavy, unable to stand by your own strength.

“Don’t force it, darling. Take what you need.” The stranger would say with a strong raspy tone, smelling your arousal fall into the sheets below your bottom. You were always bare in your nightmares as if you were waiting and submitting for him.

You couldn’t resist the feeling. At his call, your fingers would come to relieve the ache between your thighs. Playing with yourself as if you were alone, but it was far from the truth. He would watch as you pumped yourself two fingers deep, sighing and whimpering, satisfied that you no longer felt empty.

Sometimes, well no most times, he would join you in your nightmares. He would tear your hands from your leaking cunt sparing mercy and you would complain against your sheets. The stranger wasn’t that bad, not for long at least, because he would fill you with his own two fingers, his eyes would dilate watching you fall apart. He was smooth and precise, he would curve his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on target, loving the sinful sounds you made as you arched your back and yelled moans without holding back.

Once he was satisfied and right as you were about to explode, he would pull away, whipping his hard, swollen cock out of his pants and tugs on himself, forcing you to watch as he pleased himself . Of course you wanted it, but this was so wrong, very wrong.

The worst part is he wouldn’t just give it to you, he would make you beg for it. “Talk to me baby, you want it?”

You would shake your head, denying him and trying to pull yourself from under him, but realistically it is all you wanted. You wanted to taste the beads that fell from the slit of his hard cock. He was fucking big and that itself made you go fucking insane, his hands wrapped around his length nicely. You tried to stop your thoughts from going any further, but your imagination was a powerful thing, thinking about how his pretty hands would feel wrapped around your throat instead of his dick.

“Oh, you don’t? Maybe I’ll just leave you like this then.” He would say and it fucked with your head.

That was the last thing you wanted. “But– m’ so empty.”

“Then beg for it slut, you don’t have to be empty and lonely for long.” His tongue was smooth and wet against your skin as he licked down your throat, sucking little marks onto your skin. He had you wrapped around his fucking fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You wanted to move but at the same time, you wanted him to have his way with you. God can forgive you for this later.

“I c-can’t.”

“What a shame. I’ll just take care of myself and leave you here to watch.” He would start pumping his cock faster, tugging at the crown of his length.

You made an agonizing sound of complaint. “Please.”

“Please what little kitten?”

He was mean. So mean.

And you were fucking stupid.

“Please, f-fuck me.” You begged so sweetly.

The man would smile sinisterly before shoving himself deep inside you, forcing a scream of pleasure. He was not gentle in any way and you fucking liked that. As sick as it was.

He fucked you like his only mission was to make you come and drive you insane, pushing your legs far apart and brutally fucking deep into your walls.

He would watch you fall into your sheets, murmuring noncoherent words, completely submitting to the stranger you fell apart in his complete mercy.

What an honor.

“That's it baby. Squirt all over my dick.” His voice was always deep and you swore you could hear a smirk between his words.

Like magic his words would rip intense orgasms out of you and he would fuck you through them all until you eventually collapsed unconscious.

You wake up in a gasp, the wet feeling between your legs nearly makes you gag.

This can’t be. Not again.

“Baby, wake up.” A voice calls gently, soft hands soothe your back, patting and rubbing gently. “It’s just a nightmare, love. I’m here.”

“Joonie?”

“Yes baby. I’m here, go back to bed. I’ve got you.” His calm voice manages to settle the beating drum of your heart and still, this is the exact problem with these recurring nightmares.

Even as your fiancé rubs circles into your back, all you can think of is the hands of that strange man that would fuck you into a delrious state. You hated it. It felt too close to cheating.

If only Namjoon saw what your nightmares truly consisted of, he would be horrified and disgusted. Every night was worse, the guilt slowly started building in the pit of your stomach as you would daydream about the nightmare over and over and over.

…

“You okay baby?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle, aware that your mind was somewhere else during dinner.

“I- yes.” But you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Flashbacks of the man in your nightmares would haunt your thoughts. These nightmares would play in your head like old memories.

His hooded eyes watching as you fucked yourself open. He would whisper things like, ‘that’s it kitten, so fucking wet all for me’ and ‘good kitten, nice and tight for me’.

“Imagine what your fiancé would do if he saw the way you squirm in my hands. He could never fuck you the way I could, kitten. Isn't that right? Only I fuck you exactly the way you like it. My little submissive kitten.”

“Please.” Begging is all you could muster to do in your dreams. You felt pathetic. You never wanted someone so bad. The guilt only grew stronger when you realized you were fucking addicted to your own dreams. You started chasing these nightmares.

What was wrong with you?

“Baby?” Namjoon called your attention once again, smiling apologetically. “You feeling okay? Your face is quite flushed.”

Your hands fall onto your face feeling the slight burn against your palms. “Sorry. I’m okay, just a little hot in here is all.”

“It’s the end of October baby. It’s been really cold out. I’m surprised you aren't begging me to warm you up by now.” He tries to carry the conversation into a lighter, more casual matter.

A nervous smile breaks out onto your lips, as you brush a piece of hair out of your face. “Must just be experiencing hot flashes. It happens when I’m a bit more stressed than usual.”

“Anything you wanna talk about? You know you can talk to me.” He’s sweet and present for you as usual. You feel your heart drop thkining about how this is what you are missing out on by feeding into those stupid fucking nightmares. Something had to change.

Wake up, Y/N.

“Yeah, I know babe. It’s nothing to worry about. Just work stuff.” You make an excuse for yourself and it seems to work, for now.

“Mm, okay. Don’t be afraid to come to me for anything. I don’t want you suffering alone.” Your fiancé places a hand on top of yours, squeezing it softly.

“Thank you, Joonie.” This time you give him a real smile, but the guilt still stays hidden deep inside you watching as he reciprocates the smile back at you.

“There’s my beautiful bride-to-be. Stop worrying so much baby. Maybe you should take some time off from work. You know sleep usually makes you feel better. It always has. My sleepy girl.”

And there it goes and hits you all at once again.

Guilt. So much guilt. Sleep doesn’t even feel enough these days. The nightmares make you feel as if you never rest. You are clearly aware that dreams aren’t real life, but you even wake up sore from them. It’s scary how realistic it all feels. Maybe that’s why this makes it worse for you. Everything feels too real.

“Yeah… I’ll think about it.” But you won't because time off means resting and resting means more sleep and more time for these nightmares to keep haunting you. It’s like you will never win.

“Eat your dinner baby, it's getting cold.”

—-

The daydreams continue even at work.

“Let me see that perfect ass, kitten. Turn around for me.”

It’s like he completely owns you, hypnotized by his voice. You immediately present for him, face down and ass up sitting so nicely.

“Fuck kitten, look at you. Tell me, does that lame fiancé of yours ever play with this ass?”

You whimper a ‘no’ feeling a glob of spit drip into your unused, virgin hole. His thumb caressing the wet ring of muscle, watching you clench around nothing.

“I’ll change that soon, kitten. Just how you like it.”

Namjoon wasn’t necessarily opposed to butt stuff, the one time you mentioned it he briefly dismissed it. Granted, he was busy at the time with some work, and you were too embarrassed to bring it up again.

It seems you got lucky nonetheless.

The man blows hot air into your wet hole, his lips felt soft against your ass. He would leave a kiss here and there before his tongue peaked out and circled around your rim.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You weren’t the most vocal sexual partner yet somehow, under his touch, you were the loudest.

Moans fell dangerously loud from your lips as he would continue to fuck his tongue deep inside your ass. Stopping every few seconds to stare at your puffy rim, gaping around nothing. Fuck, what a sight for sore eyes you were.

“Please.”

“What baby?” His palm was heavy against your ass, watching it bounce back.

“More.” You would beg.

“Anything.” He would purr back.

A thumb circled around the velvety muscle before pushing right in, fucking his thumb alongside spit that dripped from his mouth.

Yes. Just how you like it.

“Y/N?” Your coworker brushes a hand against your shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Shit– yeah, my bad Yoona. I’ve just been feeling a bit sick lately, I think I’m coming down with a cold.” Which is a complete lie, but how do you tell your coworker you’re having wet daydreams about another man (who by the way only exists in your imagination) that isn’t your fiancé and that it is taking over every part of your life and that the guilt of it all sits heavy on your chest as days pass by and there is nothing you can do about it, but indulge in these dreams and practically live in them because you’ve become an addict.

Yoona breathes out a light hum. “You don’t seem sick.”

Fuck.

“Yeah… well it’s just starting, my throat feels dry and sore these days.”

“Maybe you should take a day off?” She suggests.

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree just so she gets off your back.

“You’ve been working a lot these days anyways. I’m sure Mr. Gyun wouldn’t mind if you called off. You’re one of his favorites anyways.” She laughs and you fake a smile.

“Yeah, right. I’ll think about it. Let's just focus on work. We need this revised and sent off by Monday.”

“Sure sure. But I’m being serious, take a day off or two, you look like you need it. You seem… tired?” She says, worrying by the sound of her tone.

Because you know she will never let this go, you reassure her. “Yoona, I love you to death, but don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll take some time off if it gets worse. Thank you, really.”

“Alright, just looking after you Y/N. Your soon-to-be husband would kill me if I didn't.”

“I’ll tell him you’re doing a great job, now back to the transcripts…”

—-

You knew the night would eventually come.

There was only so much you could ignore and forget.

A sudden rush of heat wakes you from one of your nightmares, the jolt in your body scaring Namjoon awake beside you. You knew that he meant no trouble, but he gave you the face of ‘this again?’ and you could no longer push it aside.

“Baby?” Namjoon’s voice is tired and filled with sleep, but he asks anyways while patting your back gently, as he always does when this happens like the sweet fiancé he is. “What happens in these dreams anyways?”

How do you tell your husband-to-be and boyfriend of seven years that you get completely ruined by another man in your sleep?

Namjoon was far too sweet and innocent to get mad at you for this and you knew that. Yet the guilt never stopped you from feeling terribly about the situation.

“You won’t be upset with me?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

Namjoon stands to turn on the nightlight by the bed before he lays back and wraps his strong arms around your waist. “Baby, look at me.”

With heavy eyes, you look back at your fiancé.

His palm cradles your soft cheek, pushing a loose hair behind your ear. “I could never be upset with you, my love. It might help to talk your nightmares through. I’ll be right here with you baby.”

With shaking hands, you take a deep breath. “Well, I don’t know where they come from, but there’s this man in my dreams.”

Namjoon raises a brow, doing his absolute best to understand you even while the clock reads in bold 3:44am.

“This man, he’s dressed in all black. He— he has these dark eyes.”

“Dark eyes?”

“Yeah, he— his eyes are dark, sharp all around, it’s sinister.”

“Okay. What happens?” He whispers, pulling you even closer into him, your hand falls into his chest for comfort.

“He— he…” You struggle finding the right words.

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Baby, d-does he hurt you?”

No. Of course not. In fact, he does the opposite. The man pleases you until you can’t give him anymore and he leaves you with sore limbs and the burning stretch between your legs as a reminder of what he’s done to you and what he’s capable of.

You quickly shake your head. “No but he- he touches me and does things to me.”

“Oh honey, why would I be mad at you about that? That’s completely unacceptable. Nobody should be touching you or doing things to you if you don't want it. I see now why this bothers—”

“Joonie, I feel,” you start and swallow the awful feeling in your throat, “ I feel like… if I've been cheating on you.”

“Baby, I know you would never. They’re just nightmares after all. It’s not like you enjoy it baby.” This is what you mean by Namjoon’s too innocent and kind-hearted to see past the lines between your words.

“But- I.”

“Wait… do you? Do you enjoy them?” Namjoon almost looks hurt to ask the question, but he’s quick to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, if you do.”

“I do.” You whisper like it’s some dirty secret.

There’s a pregnant pause before Namjoon pulls you completely flush against his body, rubbing circles behind your back. “It’s okay baby, it's okay. They’re just nightmares. They mean nothing.”

He kisses your hair for comfort and you let out a sob because they are much more than that to you and you know it. They are all you can think about. Shit, you think if you were given the chance, you would actually let that man have his way with you in real life. And it makes you feel disgusting because you know you enjoy this dynamic way too much.

At first, it was terrifying, you didn’t know the man and he, well he just became a weakness and you wanted him so bad, as much as you hated to admit it. Your imagination was a powerful tool. Why you and why with him? Why couldn’t your dreams be with Namjoon, your high school sweetheart?

“I’m so sorry, Joonie. For all these long nights. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The nightmares don’t stop, in fact they only feel longer and they get worse.” You cry into his chest.

“I know honey, it’s not your fault. Just think of me whenever you feel this way, okay?” He pulls back, wiping your tears off with his sleeves. Your fiancé was so fucking sweet and that’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was never angry at you or disappointed. Namjoon was always patient with you and a complete sweetheart. God, you’re so fucking stupid.

“And I’m not mad at you, okay? I never will be. Those nightmares mean nothing to me. I love you Y/N.” Your fiancé whispers into your hair, kissing the side of your face.

Namjoon has always been way better than you because had you been in his shoes, you couldn’t phantom hearing about him enjoying the presence of another woman. He knew only one part of this story. Namjoon doesn’t know that you spend evenings, the time you have the house alone while he’s off at work, fucking yourself to this strange man’s voice in your head. That you open yourself up just how you do in your nightmares and you swear you hear his voice telling you to keep going. You swear you hear him calling your name asking you about how Namjoon would feel about this. Like if his whole purpose is to make you feel worse about the situation. He’s ruining your life and you’re letting him. You think you’ve given up and it’s just started.

“I- I love you too.” You reply.

Namjoon smiles apologetically, hands gentle against your skin. “Let’s sleep?”

You nod and he pulls you against his hard chest, rubbing your back while he attempts to lull you back to sleep. It eventually comes, but not before you wake to those dark eyes again and the nightmare continues. This time you don't even fight it. He fucks you until you feel yourself collapse and you swear nothing has ever felt better.

…

The next morning Namjoon gently shakes you awake. “Good morning my love, you slept through your alarm. I figured you could take a day off so I called your boss to let him know you couldn’t come in today. I hope you don't mind.”

“Joonie?” Your voice is the cutest in the mornings (according to Namjoon), he smiles watching you struggle to wake up.

“Yes, my baby. I’m just getting ready to leave for work, but I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Well, it’s not like you have a choice so you accept your fate. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, honey. You slept quite well. You didn’t even wake up this time! Did it help? Talking through it?” Again, Namjoon could be so clueless.

The only reason you slept this well is because you were fucked into oblivion in your dream. As unbelievable as it may sound, you even felt sore down there. But he doesn’t have to know that, so he’ll just go off to work thinking that cuddles and his sweet words drifting you back to sleep actually worked.

“Yeah… yeah it did. Thank you again. Have a nice day at work.” You say, still warmly tucked in bed.

“I will, baby. ” He drops a peck into your cheek, smelling the fresh scent of his aftershave. “Call me if anything. See you later, my love.”

And like that you are left alone once again. The only thing that remains is the fluffy feeling of his plump lips buzzing against your cheek, a faint reminder that you are loved and have been for years, while you think about another man, one that only exists in your deepest darkest of dreams.

—-

Hoseok doesn’t remember how it happened. All he knew is he was standing in a place unknown, sensing there was another being in the room with him.

It's not his first time around a mortal human. No, in fact he had so much experience with lustful humans with all kinds of desires and wishes, but it has been quite long since he was manifested this strongly into someone’s dreams.

His favorite part was watching them act as if they didn’t ask for it. Call for him. They would lie and say that they could never fuck a dead being. A ghost at that. As if they didn’t manifest him themselves.

It's not like it was Hoseok’s fault for dying young and handsome and that now he tends to people’s guiltiest pleasures. It's not like he has anything better to do in the after-life. In reality, he’s doing people a grand fucking favor. The best thing about fucking a dead ghost is there’s absolutely no consequences, at least that’s what he always tells his victims. Unless you get addicted to one, then that’s really a personal problem. They can’t stay on mortal land forever, but for the time being Hoseok has become attached to his time here. Especially with his new little mortal toy.

When he first heard the calling, he almost missed it. He was fucking another mortal, a man in his mid-twenties to be exact. The man had called for him in his dreams and he attended to his duty with pleasure.

This man had a thing for clowns and Hoseok wasn’t no fucking clown, but he did his best to please him. His outfit was in all black (of course, it was his favorite color) and fit him quite well though it was different from his usual style, even down to the clown hat and all.

The guy would scream under Hoseok as he would pound into him like some fuck-doll and would have him come undone within minutes. He was so fucking easy to please. They always are.

When Hoseok came to you the first night. That’s how you found him. He still had the same outfit on (he was ripped from the last dream) and his hat had nearly fallen off in the process, but he was pleased when he came across his next victim. You were beautiful.

“Who— who are you?” You screeched, covering yourself up, cheeks flushed. You had been doing unspeakable things to yourself in the dream. “What are you doing in my room?!”

Hoseok smiles. God, they always are the same. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to and don’t mind me, keep doing what you were doing before I had rudely interrupted.”

The stranger goes to sit by the vanity in your room, making himself extremely comfortable as if it is a regular Tuesday night for him.

You try to stand and it's like something washes over you. The strange force pushes you back down and you have no choice but to take it.

The man chuckles, throwing his hat aside. “Don’t hurt yourself trying. Just let your instincts guide you. Tell me what it is you want, this will all go much smoother and much faster.”

The stranger in black winks and you feel disgusted (though your pussy doesn’t seem to agree with you).

Still you manage to say, “I want you to get out of my fucking room. I’m about to get married, you know and he’ll fucking kill you.”

“Ohhh.” He purrs, standing as he walks across the room. He stops a couple steps from your bed and leans down to match your height. “But you asked for me to come, baby. So guess what? Now I am your problem.”

He pinches your nose, wrinkling his own in the process and flashes a charming smile.

You swat his hand off you almost immediately. “I— I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t even know you and I don’t want to know you.”

“Mm, but soon we’ll know each other very well. Let’s not fight this.” The man’s voice is silky and you could practically see the sinful desire in his eyes while they take in your naked figure.

You have no idea what he even means by that, but right now you could care less. This is just a nightmare and soon enough, he will disappear and you will get to go back to doing what you were doing before he ever existed.

“Leave me alone please.”

The guy puts his hands up clearly coming and going in peace, while retreating back a few steps. “Whatever you say princess. I’ll be back when you’re ready.”

And just like that the man disappeared into a black distorted shadow.

He shows up only three nights later.

This time he catches you on your knees, riding a dildo on your bed. You don’t even hear him until he’s in front of you. Your hips stop mid roll. Whimpering as you feel the tug on your hair.

“Seems you’re ready.” He rasps, having a strong grip on your hair forcing you to look up at him.

“I— who the fuck are you? Seriously? What do you want with me? I know I’m dreaming and I can wake up any secomd so what the fuck do you want with me.” This time you don’t even entertain him. It’s clear this man has his own vulgar intentions, you wanna skip the small talk. He doesn’t seem like the type to give up until he gets exactly what he wants.

“The better question is what do you want with me. You manifested me after all, darling.”

Your eye twitches at the pet name, but you ignore it, for now. “But— I don't know you. How is that fucking possible?”

Even though he knows you won't understand it completely, he still answers truthfully. “I’m dead baby. Anything is possible.”

Great, so you’re just supposed to believe this man is some ghost haunting you in your dreams. Perfect!

This time you don’t ignore his stupid use of pet names. “S-Stop calling me that.”

“Oh?” The man pouts, and to be honest that does something to you. If the situation was different maybe you would admit he looks fucking sexy, even if he’s a menace.

His brows furrow, his jawline clenching as he speaks. “Is there another pet name you like? We’re already getting farther than last time, princess.”

You don’t even attempt to hold back the scoff, your eyes roll back. “No. I don’t— I didn't ask for you and I don’t want you bothering me anymore. Just please leave me alone. Please.”

The man groans, looking down at you with hooded eyes, the fist in your hair grips harder reminding you that he still had you under his control. “God, but you sound perfect begging. Are you sure of that, kitten?”

The man's voice drops in a sultry tone, nearling purring while he speaks. And somehow, that manages to slip a whine from your throat, nearly drooling at the sight.

Your eyes immediately widen. “I— I didn't mean that.”

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” The man smiles, petting your head affectionately. You were fucked. “Of course you didn't. You were so close weren't you, kitten?”

You shake your head, you’re unable to look away, but at the same time you want to throw his hands off you. You felt completely powerless under his gaze and you were liking it a lot more than you would like to admit.

“Don’t bother lying to me princess, I can smell it. You were so fucking close.” He whines the last part, biting his bottom lip, he seems to breathe in the scent. “So fucking close. I’m sorry. I always join at the worst times, you can continue.”

He offers like a fucking weirdo, pervert and still you disgustingly want it.

“I said, don't call me that!” Your hand flies to his and forces it off you.

“Then talk to me.” He’s rough, but firm with his tone.

“No. I don’t- can't and I won't. Go bother someone else.”

“I can’t. You asked for me and you brought me here. Now you have to deal with this.” He doesn't attempt to put his hands back on you, but he does let his gaze wander seeing as you still haven’t moved from your dildo.

“This is bullshit. It’s just in my head anyways. If I close my eyes it’s like you aren’t even here. Now let me fucking come in peace.” Your eyes closed in the middle of your rant and he seemed to listen. Hoseok backs off, watching you from your wall to be exact, but he lets you take care of yourself. That’s what he’s there for after all.

After a few seconds of calming yourself down and regaining your arousal, you slowly lift yourself up feeling the dildo pull against your walls and you drop yourself back down.

Hoseok was right, you weren’t too far away from coming, but he messed up your pace and now you have to work yourself back up.

It doesn’t take too long before you set a quick pace, fucking yourself onto the silicone length.

Truly it wasn’t that you and Namjoon’s sex life was bad, in fact he was the best fuck of your life (not that you had much experience given he was your high school sweetheart) but after years of being together, things had changed, a lot.

You don’t even remember the last time you guys got creative in bed, besides a few vibrators from time-to-time. It was starting to get boring and you didn't want to admit this to him, but you wanted so much more. It's like your body was begging for it. And you didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying it, so instead you kept it to yourself and the sexual frustration built up overtime making it impossible not to think about constantly.

You gasp when you finally open your eyes to find the man watching you with heavy lidded eyes from your wall, he’s not even touching himself, but you can see he’s hard in his pants.

He licks his lips as he watches you jump down on the dildo ferociously. Your eyes make contact and that's when everything seems to explode.

Moans start slipping from your lips and you feel the knot in your stomach start to build quickly. The silicone molds around your walls perfectly, feeling the tip brush against your sweet spot repeatedly, fisting the sheets below you.

Hoseok’s nose seems to flare and he can practically taste your arousal in the air. He watches as you bounce on that useless dildo, wishing it was his cock instead. Your mouth falls open, drool nearly spilling while you feel the knot coming undone.

It isn’t long before Hoseok finally decides to speak and it does wonders. “Come, you fucking slut.”

Fuck.

On call, you come and he’s forced to watch you moan and writhe against your sheets, feeling the dildo slowly push out of you.

He pushes himself off the wall and comes towards you and you feel too exhausted to push him away. You are laying in the middle of your bed now, dildo still between your legs but it’s fallen out.

You feel as he pushes the dildo back inside you overstimulating your used hole as he fucks it into you deeply. You really, really shouldn't let this happen. You are going to be a married woman soon for fuck’s sake, but it all feels so fucking good- risky yet new, so you can’t help but to feed into temptation.

Sadly, your body denies it, for now at least. “N-No I can't. Not anymore.”

His action comes to a halt. “I know. Maybe next time, kitty.”

And he disappears once again.

Disappointment and guilt builds all too quickly.

Disappointed that he didn’t stay and fuck you until you passed out. And guilt that you just came in the eyes of another man and on his call.

—-

As expected, you spend your whole day off thinking about the stranger. The way he looks at you, the way he bites his bottom lip while taking you in. The way he grips your hair and clenches his sharp, symmetrical jawline when he has you falling apart in his hands. You could feel his touch, it’s impossible you know, but it all feels too real and it all happens so fast.

He had a name now. He told you in one of your dreams while he was taking you from behind.

“Say my name kitten. Who’s fucking you this good? Fuck, what a sight from behind. You’re just perfect all around, aren’t you?” Hoseok’s hands grip onto your ass cheeks, fucking into your pussy brutally. He hasn’t stopped pounding into you and it’s already been ten minutes. Maybe more? Maybe less? You stopped counting. Good dick leaves you feeling stupid.

“H-Hoseok.” You whimper into your pillow, you think you have officially lost your fucking mind.

“What?” You swear you can hear the smirk on his lips.

“Hoseok.” You’re louder this time, but your voice is muffled, face falling into your pillow.

“Louder slut!” There’s a sting on your ass and he has a fistful of your hair, lifting your face from up the pillow while he continues to ram into you from behind. You realize you are so fucking close and he knows it too, you try to meet his strong thrusts, but it’s no use because it knocks the air from under you. He manages to hold you up with a strong grip. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight around me, kitty. You gonna come on my dick now like a good slut? Huh?”

“Yes!” This time your voice is loud and you scream without holding back. “Hoseok! Hoseok! Oh, nghh… fuck, Hoseok!”

His name falls from your lips over and over while you come on his cock, just like he asked of you. That satisfies him enough and he squirts his own orgasm all over your plump ass, watching you come down from your own afterglow.

You had come to the fucked conclusion that the only way to possibly fucking fix something like this (as sick as it may sound) is to fuck it away. You had to tell Namjoon, maybe experiment a bit more just so you can finally get this man out of your head. Regain your peace of mind. Namjoon would do anything you’d ask of him, you could assure that. You just had to find a way to tell him so he wouldn’t feel it was his fault or as if he was lacking. Or you could just not tell him.

Either way you think fucking this away would help for the time being at least.

Sex is a very special and intimate practice and that’s genuinely how it always felt with Namjoon. He always took his time with you and fucked you slow and deep.

Before, you will admit that it was nice and that’s why he attracted you so much but now, you don’t want it to be nice or slow. You want someone to play rough, break your limits, and touch you in places you haven’t been touched before. You want to be tossed around, fucked until you can’t speak any coherent sentences. Was that just too much to ask for?

(Hoseok sure didn't think so.)

Right as you had finished cooking dinner, Namjoon made his way through the front door, setting his work bag down by the coat rack.

“You’re cooking?” Namjoon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Smells good.”

“Yeah, I figured you deserved a nice meal to come home to. I didn’t have much else to do.” You swiftly kiss him back.

Namjoon pulls you in closer, arms holding you tightly. He still smells as fresh as he did when he first left. “I told you to rest, my love. You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I know, I know. I really wanted to though. Let’s just eat, we'll talk after.” He nods and kisses your cheek once more.

“Let's eat then.”

…

Namjoon decides a movie night is needed on a night like tonight.

You were more clingy than usual (and of course, he loves it). So he puts on a random movie and allows you to cuddle him up to the fullest of your extent.

“You’re so cuddly today, my love.” Namjoon whispers into your hair, mid-movie.

“I just missed you is all.” And you really did, it's been long since you and Namjoon had an intimate night (maybe since these dreams started), you think it's finally time.

He smiles rubbing his hand down your arm. “I missed you too honey.”

You lift your head from his chest and lean in slowly, he immediately picks up on the drift and leans down to meet your lips.

His lips are soft against yours, kissing you with gentle movements. His palm comes to rest on your cheek while you escalate the kiss.

Your tongue comes up slowly and he lets you in quite easily. You take a hand and rake it down his chest, pulling yourself on his lap carefully.

You start to slowly whine your hips, making it all too obvious about what you need and want. Namjoon follows along without complaints.

“Do you wanna?” Namjoon asks, a bit breathless, bringing his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”

Namjoon smiles and steals one last kiss before he attempts to stand, thinking it would be best to move this to the bed, but you hold him down with a shove to his abdomen.

“No. I want it, right here.” You say, finding yourself a little breathless yourself, you needed this.

His eyes seem to widen for the moment, but he seems to agree and pulls you back in for a kiss, this time he lets his tongue push into your mouth further exploring. He tastes the sweet tang of red wine on your tongue and he groans into the kiss.

You pull back only for a second as you get rid of your shirt and he starts to unbutton his own. Once the shirts are off, you tug your bra off freeing your breast and bring your lips back together with great force.

Though he doesn’t complain, Namjoon is in shock. He hasn’t seen you this needy and desperate in years, he thinks? Or at least he doesn’t remember it like that. He lets you rut against his already hard member and kisses you with equal passion.

The next time he pulls away, he tugs on your leggings and he helps you out of them. Typically your panties come down with it, but you decide you’ll just push them aside. You return the offer by pushing his jeans down, including his briefs, his dick slaps against his stomach weighing heavy.

Your mouth instantly waters, but right now you want him inside the rest will just have to come another time.

Namjoon looks at you with so much love and admiration and for a minute, the guilt comes crashing down. You want him, you know you do so why is the guilt still there? Is it because even as you have your lover right where you want him all you can think about is how the stranger (Hoseok) from your dreams would have had you flipped onto the couch and had his way with you hours ago. Maybe he would have fucked you against the kitchen counter, defile the damn marble. Maybe he would have taken you right against your front door, like the slut you wanted to be for him. All you know for sure is he wouldn’t have let this much time pass.

You shake your stupid thoughts away and look back up at your fiancé. This is where you want to be. Where you fucking belong. Without letting your imagination run wild, you rub yourself against Namjoon’s hard length, spreading your arousal all over him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” He bites a moan back, feeling your warm juices, slicken his cock.

You moan against his mouth when you feel the tip latch on to your hole, slowly sinking down on him. You feel his cock stretch your warm walls and he feels he could come already. It's just been so long (can anyone really blame him).

You bring your hips up a bit before crashing back down feeling the burn on your tight heat.

“So warm and tight baby.” His hands land on your hips, toying with the band of your panties. “Come here.”

Namjoon brings you flush against his chest slowing your movement, his lips crash into yours. The kiss feels much different from before. He doesn’t hold back, as soon as your tongue clashes with his, he sucks and bites it playfully. You groan into his mouth, accidentally squeezing harder against his length.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” His dick twitches deeply against your velvety walls, you can tell he’s holding back. “I think I’ll come soon if you continue like this.”

Like hell, you’ll let him come now, you’ve barely had your fill. Without no desire to, you slowly slide off his dick, dropping knees first onto the cold floor below you.

“Baby–” Namjoon starts, but you push his hands away as he tries to pull you back up.

“Let me do this, you’ll last longer.” He hesitates, but eventually surrenders, laying his hands aside. “Don’t be scared to use your hands, use my mouth, Joonie.”

Fuck. How could his own perfect, sweet wife-to-be sound this seductive? He hasn’t heard you talk this way since college. And it’s been years since that. He thought the years of young, hot sex were over but he’s been wrong all along. His fiancée was the sexiest woman in the world, that he was sure of.

Namjoon’s hands find your hair and push you towards his glistening length. It’s already drying, shame, you thought, let’s keep it warm and wet.

Wrapping hands around it, you take his cock into your mouth, sliding your tongue across the slit, hearing a raspy moan come from Namjoon’s throat. “That’s it baby, God your mouth feels incredible.”

The tip of his cock weighs heavy against your tongue. He’s breathing heavy, while he watches you take him in further. You warm his cock with your mouth just as nicely as when you were on top of him.

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him as far as you could go, hearing his desperate grunts. Namjoon takes a grip of your hair (he’s still very gentle with it and you try not to be disappointed) and pushes you just a bit further, feeling your throat stretch around him. “F-Fuck baby. I really won’t last.”

You tap his thigh and he immediately lets go when he sees your eyes water. You pull off with a pop to catch your breath. “I know.”

Your voice is raspy and it’s the sexiest thing Namjoon has ever heard. And you know exactly how to make this whole situation better. Sometimes, a little whiny purr in your voice is all that’s needed to get exactly what you need. “I just want you to come down my throat. Please, fuck my throat daddy.”

Now if Namjoon wasn’t sure he could bust before, he could definitely nut in your fist right in that instant. Yes, he has a daddy kink, sue him.

“Come here.” Namjoon demands, doesn’t hesitate this time to tug you up a little harder and place you in his lap, before he shoves your back against the couch.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask, but the answer is pretty obvious when you see him line his cock up to your hole.

“Fucking you. I’m gonna come inside you. Don’t worry baby, I won’t stop fucking you until you are statisfied.” It’s like music to your ears, his hard member slaps against your clit before he slowly eases back inside you.

Both moaning at the feeling, he lets you adjust for a few seconds, but you waste no time to wrap your legs around his hips and pull him close.

“Please daddy, just fuck me.” You whine into his ear.

This time Namjoon pulls back and right before he slides out, he slams back in, balls smacking into your ass. He fucks you just like that for a while. He’s fast but skilled, finding your sweet spot quite easily. It reminds you both of older times, when things were much easier, when you were both young and easily influenced.

You moan loudly into his neck, toes curling as he fucks his dick deep inside you. “Right there daddy, please don’t stop.”

Sweat starts forming on his forehead and his hair that had once been held back by gel begins sticking to skin. It isn’t a surprise to feel him thrust harder and faster, his tongue poking at his cheek as he concentrates. “Fuck baby, I really missed fucking you just like this. You feel so tight around me, look so fucking sexy, just like this baby.”

You eat up his praise, biting your bottom lip as you feel the tight grip he has on your hips, drilling into you like he used to. Fuck, maybe you were right. This was exactly what you needed. There’s no Hoseok in your head right now. No unwanted thoughts in your mind. It’s just you and Namjoon. How it always should have been.

A whimper falls between your lips and you feel Namjoon leaving hickey’s around your tits, covering them beautifully with his own little marks.

Your legs start to shake around him, and warmth starts spreading through you quickly. “Daddy— I- I think I’m gonna fucking come.”

Namjoon grunts, mouth around your nipple while he pulls off to speak. “Yeah baby? You wanna come?”

Yes.

No.

Not really.

Preferably you would like him to control your fucking orgasm, flip you around, start pounding into you until you can’t hold yourself together but this will have to do.

“Y-Yeah. I wanna come.”

“Come sweetheart.” It’s not long before you moan sweetly through an orgasm, Namjoon fucks you through it as promised and you feel like you are levitating, he maintains sinful eye contact. His thrust starts to become sloppy and you feel the instant he lets go.

“Inside daddy, inside.” With one final strong stroke, Namjoon comes deep inside you, his breathy moans feel hot against your ear.

There’s a few minutes of heavy breathing, settling into the couch below you. Namjoon’s breaths follow close behind yours, arm tucked below your breasts, he lays behind you.

“You were so wonderful my love, I’m sorry we don’t do that enough.” Namjoon breaks the silence, kissing the side of your head.

For the twentieth time that week, guilt falls heavy onto your chest. You didn’t deserve him, he didn’t deserve this.

“No, don’t apologize Joonie. It’s my fault, really. I’ve just been… out of it. But I feel much better. All thanks to you. Thank you, thank you for everything you do for me and our home.” You start getting emotional, but you don't let your tone waver. You didn’t want him to know.

“You know I’d do it all for you, my love” He whispers into your hair, kissing along the soft skin behind your neck. “I can’t wait to marry you baby.”

There it is again, guilt.

“I know, I know. Me either.”

“I love you.” He doesn't hesitate to remind you sweetly.

It hurts to say it with all that is going through your mind, but you force a reply anyway. “I love you too.”

…

Sleep comes over you quickly that night.

Finally, you had fucked your sweet and loving fiancé and for once, your dreams don’t start off with you fucking yourself into an orgasm.

In fact, you don’t dream, at least you don't recall.

Hoseok immediately knows something is different when he arrives. He doesn’t smell arousal in the air, no this time he can tell you’ve been fucked. He can smell the come leftover deep inside your walls. He’s impressed to say the least.

He watches your chest rise and fall, a small pout framing on your lips. You sleep beautifully, he thinks you will look even better after he’s done with you for today.

With careful steps, he makes his way to the end of your bed, you jerk your arm so suddenly in your sleep and he holds back a laugh. He’s quiet when he sits besides your sleeping head, gentle fingers run through your hair.

“Mm.” You hum sweetly in your sleep, molding against his touch, thinking it was your husband-to-be playing with your hair like he normally does.

Before you hear him say, “someone had a good night. Isn’t that right kitten?”

Your eyes widen, nearly jumping out of bed, but Hoseok’s hands stop you from moving. “It’s just me baby.”

“H-How?” Your voice is raspy with sleep. “You were supposed to be gone.”

Hoseok smiles wide, hand still caressing the back of your head. “Did you really think that would happen, kitten?”

“Yes.”

“You let him fuck you.” He says like he knows for sure it's a fact. He doesn’t look too happy about it and your deafening silence answers his unspoken question. He pats your cheek. “Naughty kitty.”

You gulp, his pretty hand wrapping around your throat as he asks the next question. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie and he knows it too.

“Yeah? He fuck you better than me?” You gulp again.

“Yes.” No.

“Why do you lie to me, kitten?” His eyes flash red (they don’t), but the look he gives you is enough to warn you. Things are about to get serious so fast. “I know everything.”

You know that saying people say about fucking around and finding out. You were about to fuck around and find out real fucking fast that Hoseok doesn’t play with his toy.

“Then what the fuck are you going to do about it, huh?” The only warning you get is Hoseok’s smile and then he’s fisting your hair tightly. Jawline clenched, watching as his eyes hood and darken.

“Fuck yourself open, you slut.” He drops the grip on your hair and stands, serious look on his face, he’s not fucking around at all tonight. His hands are quick, tugging his belt off. “Make it quick.”

When he sees you still haven’t moved, a warning comes to you by a strong fistful of hair, shoving you so closely against his face. His breath hits yours, but your lips don’t touch, even though they are so fucking close. You’re tempted to steal a kiss from those soft looking lips, but you’ve acted up enough. “I said, fuck yourself open.”

He drops his grip, letting your head fall into the mattress. Hoseok’s voice is strong and demanding so you stop fucking around and pull the sheets off your body. His eyes fall on your breasts, they are covered in hickey’s freshly made by Namjoon and he tries not to let that affect him. But damn him, he wishes it was him instead. He knows you would never sleep unsatisfied. He would always make sure you slept fucked and sated. Even if that meant, falling asleep on his cock.

There’s a slight burn when your finger finds its way to your pussy. Namjoon did a number on you, but it makes it easier to fuck yourself open. His come still settling deep inside you.

Hoseok has his shirt off now and he tugs his briefs and pants down all at once, his cock springs out, looking delicious as ever. You hear a dark chuckle behind you. “Uh-uh, wrong hole kitty, I’m fucking that ass tonight.”

You whimper when his hand comes to stop your movements.

“I’m not fucking that dirty hole. Turn around. I wanna see you from behind.” He’s not putting it up for question. You push yourself up on your knees and fall back against the bed, lifting your ass towards his direction.

He curses behind you and smacks your ass. Leaving a red hand mark behind, it almost is as pretty as your face. “Fuck kitten, you really are pretty all around. Fuck that hole open for me.”

You feel spit hit your hole and your index finger rubs his saliva around your rim. Your chest is heavy, this time for different reasons, you are completely breathless.

You can’t see Hoseok, but you hear as he opens the drawer beside your bed, it’s where you kept all your toys and lube. You are a finger-deep inside your ass when you hear the lube cap open, Hoseok is kind enough to warm the lube a bit between his fingers before he rubs against your rim and finger. He lets a bit of the lube dribble down your ass cheeks. Hoseok likes it a bit messy and wet. He clicks it close and tosses it besides you.

“My perfect submissive slut.” He whispers, hands settling on your ass as you finger yourself open with two fingers now, the burn hurts but it feels so damn good. Namjoon has never fucked your ass, but it has always been one of your sexual desires. Nothing could ever compare to an orgasm through anal and Hoseok has taught you a lot about that.

Another glob of spit hits your rim and you feel him squeeze a finger in. The burn of three fingers tear through you, moaning into the sheets. “Mm, fuck.”

He grins watching you hold back moans, biting your lips hard.

“Maybe I should punish you tonight.” He suggests, still fucking his finger in your ass alongside your own. “If you come like this I’ll let you suck my dick if I’m still feeling nice.”

You complain, turning around to face him, back still arched. “No… please, please Hoseok. F-Fuck me. Fuck my ass.”

“No.” He’s cold like usual and you know he won’t budge so it's no use.

“But I-I’ve been waiting patiently. I thought all day about you.” It almost sounds like a purr and Hoseok loves it, spanking the fat in your hips this time with an unoccupied hand. His finger is still deep inside your ass and doesn’t let down.

“Yeah? Tell me about that.” He starts to jerk himself off in the process, the leftover lube in his fingers makes the slide easier, his tongue wets his lips while he maintains eye contact.

Your cheeks are burning but you continue, “I thought about your huge cock splitting me open. Forcing me to take you e-even when I can’t anymore. I thought about you spitting into my messy hole like you always do. I thought about you fucking me open against the door. Even the kitchen counter. All day, I’ve missed you all day.”

This seems to satisfy him enough so he plays nice. “Turn over. On your back. Show me those tits.”

He pulls his finger out slowly and you miss it immediately but you listen, your own fingers slide out as you turn around for him. His knees hit the bed pulling your thighs apart as he falls between them, his arm falling beside your head. He’s still fisting his hard length, watching your tits rise and fall as you breathe.

His tongue comes out and licks around your breasts purposely avoiding your nipple. “You let him mark you.”

“He’s my husband-to-be.” You answer, holding back a moan when he sucks on your skin, gentle enough not to make any marks. “Of course, I did.”

“Mm.” He hums into your skin, it vibrates and your pussy responds to this, leaking arousal into the sheets. “What else did you let him do, kitten?”

“He fucked me.” You whisper, practically vibrating below him.

“Oh I know that. I smell it.” He looks like he wants to laugh, but instead continues sucking around your other breast, giving both tits the attention they deserve.

“Squeeze them together.” He orders and you listen quickly. His tongue slides and sucks between them, still avoiding your nipples and it drives you insane. You want to feel him.

“Please.” Your voice is weak.

“Please what?” He asks, looking up dumbfounded, but he knows exactly what you want. He’s making you work for it. “Tell me kitten. What do you want?”

“Y-Your mouth.” You struggle.

“Where?” He breathes out, right on top of your nipple, tongue nearly sliding against it.

“R-Right there.” Your eyes never move.

You watch as he sticks his long, pink tongue out and very slowly licks your already hardened nipple.

“Here?” He asks between his own breaths and you moan softly, sounding sweet against his ears.

“Yes.” You whisper-moan.

He drops his cock, letting it hit your cunt while he starts to suck on your nipples like they deserve. There’s nothing sweet and gentle about this. It’s like he wants to replace Namjoon’s love bites and leave you with his own.

He switches off onto the previous breast and his hand comes to play with your other breast while he attends to the new one. He licks and sucks harshly, bruising your tender skin. You writhe against him, pussy brushing along his cock, but his hand comes to halt your actions quickly with a strong grip on your hip.

“Be good, slut.” Is all he says before he continues marking your breasts and you can’t do a single thing, but moan and whine underneath him, feeling empty. The memory of Namjoon is long forgotten.

Once Hoseok is satisfied with his work. He grins and pulls away. He grabs the bottle of lube beside you and lathers his cock in it. “Should I fuck you now?”

You are quick to nod and you feel bubbly.

Finally.

“Yeah? You think you deserve it?” He tempts and teases, his lubed fingers touch your chin and you open with ease, taking all three fingers he offers you inside your mouth. You suck hard and watch him bite his lip.

You moan around his fingers, his other hand gripping his slicken cock and you feel it catch around your rim.

“Beg for it, slut.” He slides his fingers out, saliva drips down your chin, you probably look a mess but you don't even care anymore. The sinful desire and lust is ten times worse than any other feeling.

“Please, Hoseok. Please.” You beg. “I’d do anything. Anything.”

He sees red for two seconds and then he says. “Then keep your legs open for me. Try to stay awake. Don’t disappoint me this time, kitten.”

There’s no warning for when he plunges his hard length inside your slicked rim. You know he won’t be going anywhere near your pussy, keeping his promise. You didn’t deserve it. You let someone else use your hole and now he’s punishing you.

“Oh. My. God.” You moan, it fucking burns, but soon his thrusts turn into pleasure and his cock brushes your sweet spot. It’s like he’s known you all your life, knowing the exact way to tear you apart, piece by piece.

“Ghost actually, not God, but I’ve met him. He’s not the sweet and forgiving man everyone mentions he is.” Hoseok says this all while buried deep between your ass cheeks and you would actually laugh about this if the situation was different, but instead you moan and clench around him feeling his balls slap faster against your ass. “That’s it kitten, lose your fucking mind.”

And that is exactly what you do.

Hoseok continues ramming his hips into yours for a few minutes, you aren’t speaking clearly anymore so he doesn’t understand a word you tell him, all he knows is that you must be feeling fucking ecstasy by the way you roll your eyes and yell moans.

His hands grip your hips and he comes to a stop. “Face down. Ass up. I wanna see that ass while I pound it from behind.”

You don’t reply to him, but you seem to understand. With weak movements, you move and nearly fall face first into the bed, weak limbs. You don’t even have the strength to hold yourself together anymore. Hoseok is kind enough to help though, he places a pillow below your hips, just high enough so he can slide right back inside your tight ass.

He hears your muffled moans against your bedsheets, watching you weakly grip them.

“Such a nice ass. It’s a shame really.” Your ass bounces while he mounts you from behind, it’s fast but precise, hitting your walls just right at every harsh thrust.

“W-What is?” He barely hears you reply.

“That this ass isn’t played with enough and soon I’ll just be a fidget of your imagination. You’ll forget I ever existed and you’ll never, ever receive the sexual satifisation you deserve. But maybe, one day, when it’s your turn to go, you’ll meet me in the after-life and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed this sweet ass.” The ghost’s voice almost sounds sad and you freeze. You don’t want this to end. No.

“T-Then don’t stop fucking me. Keep me here forever.” You whisper frantically, breath hot and heavy.

“Oh trust me baby, I would if I could. For now, I won’t stop. Stay awake, kitten.” You don’t even notice you are falling unconscious, the stretch and burn of his cock is exhausting and your ass takes him greedily, but his words wake you.

He grips the side of your hips, pressing his thumbs into your back as he sets a faster pace. Slamming and ramming his dick deep within you. The moans and gasps that slip from your mouth sound so pretty, God he really wishes it would never fucking end, but he feels you slipping between his hands already.

What the fuck can he do?

Hoseok is close himself, how could he not be? He’s been practically edging himself for hours and now that he has such a juicy ass at hand, with the most perfect woman he has ever seen, he could practically come inside your velvet walls right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse and moan below him, you tremple and shake, the knot inside your stomach is barely holding up. “‘M so close.”

He nods, forgets you can’t see him. He harshly tugs you around, still quite limp and weak between his arms. “Wanna see that face when you come on my cock.”

He plunges back inside, lips close to yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. And then you realize, he hasn’t kissed you. This entire time. He’s fucked you religiuosly for weeks on end and you don’t even know what those heart-shaped lips taste like against yours. Would they be as sweet as they look? Would he kiss you gently or would he be harsh and rough like the way he fucks? You wonder about it all at once and it makes you sad for a moment. You want a kiss. Why wouldn’t he kiss you?

“Kiss me.” You breathe out, he’s grunting above your mouth still fucking you nice and deep. You are beyond positive you won’t be able to move your ass tomorrow but it’s worth it, it’s always worth it.

He looks up and then looks back down, concentrating on his thrust, you moan but hold your ground.

“Please. Kiss me.” You whisper, gasping when you feel the knot start to come undone. He knows you’re about to let go and this only drives him to bottom out faster and quicker. Skin smacking quickly against skin. Your asshole has been shaped and molded just for him. You’re loving every second of it, but he still hasn’t kissed you.

Why?

Your arms weakly wrap around his shoulders, he breathes heavy and hot against your ear now. It’s messy, sweaty and his touch is usually rough, but it feels awfully gentle now. He’s still rough inside your soft walls, but something’s changed.

“Hoseok.” You breathe, you’re so sad.

He hums against your neck, avoiding your eyes.

“Kiss me.” You plead again, he kissed your neck so softly, balls smacking harder and faster against your ass. “No, my lips.”

“Goodnight, kitten.” He whispers sounding sad into your ear before he lifts his face from your neck and those heart-shaped lips touch your softly, it’s almost sweet. You come undone as soon as you feel the touch of his magical lips and you swear you feel him come deep inside you.

It all disappears though.

“Honey?” This time it's Namjoon, hand already around your waist. “You okay? Was it another nightmare?”

A tear falls down your face and Namjoon awes, bringing you into his warm embrace. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”

Why are you crying?

And where is Hoseok?

“I am too.” You simply say, crying harshly into his shoulder.

Hoseok watches the scene unfold from afar. He wishes you could feel the ache you’ve left him behind too and there isn’t a damn thing he could do but wait.

“See you in the after-life kitten. There I’ll spoil you with all the kisses you deserve.”

You don’t hear him, but he knows he means well. Hoseok walks away permanently this time, he’s lost the feeling of his heart long ago, but he feels heavy-hearted and continues on his way to his next victim.

Until next time.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #hoseok smut #hoseok x y/n #hoseok scenarios #hoseok fic #hoseok angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #bts angst

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jjungkookislife · 6 months

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Quarterly Fic Rec List 2023 #4

Hello! This is the last list of 2023! These are the wonderful fics I ended my year with! I hope you enjoy them! If anyone would like to be removed from this list; please let me know! As always each of these fics has its own content warnings, and most, if not all are 18+ so Minors Do Not Interact!

Seokjin

daydream @joonie-beanie

summary: Your literature professor has a bit of a…gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios…involving him.

pink panther @gimmesumsuga

summary: The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are

9 months to fall in love @floralseokjin

summary: It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in. Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it. Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

dream come true @sugaurora

summary: Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

whole @yoongiphoria

Yoongi

can't afford love @dollfaceksj

summary: Your childhood dream of having 2 children in a big house with a blooming marriage by this point in time has been eliminated the moment divorce came knocking at your door. With only one child and finding yourself back at square one, you ask your ex-husband—Min Yoongi—if he’d be down to fulfill 1 of these 3 things on your childhood’s bucket-list. And no, it’s not giving you a big house.

u suck !! @kithtaehyung

summary: Jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume.

three tangerines ^

summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

broken pt. 1 ^

summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell.

ghostface killers @gimmethatagustd

summary: You’ve had your eyes set on Yoongi for as long as you can remember. What you didn’t know is that he’s had his eyes on you, too.

red & white @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: you and yoongi have something to share this holiday

Hoseok

spookie coochie @gimmethatagustd

summary: The only monster Hoseok wishes you were interested in finding this Halloween season is his monster c–

drink champagne in my airplane @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Your friend Hoseok decided to use his excessive wealth for good and take the both of you on a much-needed vacation. The flight was meant to be relaxing until he broke out one of his most expensive bottles of champagne.

a holly, jolly crisis @kpopfanfictrash

summary: At this time last year, you thought you had it all. A kick-ass screenwriting job for the hottest TV show in LA, an actor boyfriend whose career was taking off and an affordable apartment with not one, but two bathrooms. Fast-forward to now and you’re single, soon-to-be jobless and searching for a way to scrape together January rent. Everything seems to be falling apart, which was why you told your family you weren’t coming home for the holidays. Enter your little sister, Sara, who recently became engaged to her boyfriend, Yoongi and needs you home to celebrate. The biggest problem? Returning home means you’ll be forced to face everything and everyone you left behind, including Yoongi’s best man – and your ex-best friend, Hoseok.

12 lays of christmas @minisugakoobies

summary: Your brother’s best friend Hoseok really likes your cookies

it's a promise @sahmfanficbts

arranged marriage au

Namjoon

close, closer, closest @augustbutwinter

summary: you know your soulmate is close, but you haven’t met them yet. every day your counter goes up when you pass that one station. until one day it doesn’t.

make an effort @7ndipity

summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

a word from our sponsors @ugh-yoongi

summary: you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it.

Jimin

cloud nine @suga-kookiemonster

summary: “he’s here again,” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot--devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

menace @eoieopda

summary: Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Park Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Too bad you can’t keep your hands off him.

crescent bound @parkhabits

summary: One night you’re having the best hookup of your life and the next you’re being told that the little mark on your neck is more than just a hickey and that Park Jimin was more than you expected too.

the dark side of the moon @dovechim

summary: falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes.

a remedy for mondays ^

summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

heavy petting @kittae

summary: Your boyfriend is not just a cat hybrid, he’s also very needy! When you come home from work and you expect him to be all over you, you’re fairly disappointed to find he prefers a nap over some well-deserved quality time. You’ll make sure to pay him back for that.

the devil in his details @johobi

summary: Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

me, you, and this thing we have between us @boymeetsweevil

summary: You’re pregnant and jimin is…happy about it

devil's advocate @7cypher

summary: You had met the devil on a hot summer day. He had shown up in a red polo, red cap, and white sneakers on his feet. That day, you had invited your devil into your home and he hasn’t left since.

no strings @kpopfanfictrash

summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

the ten days of ex-mas @kpopfanfictrash

summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling. Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Taehyung

midnight @sailoryooons

summary: Taehyung loves being your prince charming, even if it means trying to find where you’ve wandered off to in the middle of a Halloween party without your shoes.

the holi-date @kpopfanfictrash

summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

of lace and lust @hobidreams

summary: friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

hush @suga-kookiemonster

summary: four seats, five bodies. “careful, sweetheart,” he breathes into the shell of your ear, hands tightening over your waist in warning. you lick your lips, pausing just long enough to ponder: what if you don’t want to be careful?

rotten angelcake @inkedtae

summary: she’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten. this is a series following the complicated relationship between a sugar baby, sugar daddy and his corruption kink.

sausade @kimvvantae

summary: no one is born to be alone and no one can be complete in oneself - that’s why, in this world, every person has a pair, someone that complements their soul in every aspect. you, however, are an exception to the rule, for the mark on your wrist indicates that your pair has passed away way before you were born.

kinda hot @kimnjss

summary: you’ve always been cute, soft, tiny in taehyung’s eyes. but that’s changing one night when you’re accidentally sending him a naughty picture. forcing him to realize, maybe his best friend is kinda… hot?

Jungkook

jungkook drabble @euphoricfilter

summary: obsessed gf m/c and equally as obsessed boyfriend jungkook. he’s the light of her life, and she’s the reason he smiles

blessed with a curse @sweetestofchaos

summary: When your company throws a mandatory Halloween party, you aren’t thrilled. You’re even less thrilled when a delusional coworker ruins the party and places a curse on everyone because her crush, the resident werewolf, Jeon Jungkook, rejected them.

seasons don't fear the reaper @augustbutwinter

summary: life is short, they say. one day everyone meets their death, they say. how often can you meet yours before he takes you with him?

because i love you ch. 13 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

a holiday snowdown @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The Inn on the Hill is in trouble. Or that's what your boss, Namjoon, says during the last-minute All Staff holiday meeting he calls. You need money, and you need money fast, or his parents are planning to sell the resort. When no one can think of an easy solution, Namjoon proposes his parents' idea: a weeklong social media blitz with a celebrity guest. The celebrity? None other than Jungkook Jeon himself: two-time Olympic gold medalist, world-class snowboarder and the nation's sweetheart. What's the problem? You happen to have met Jungkook Jeon before, and sincerely hoped you'd never see him again.

all grown up @btsgotjams27

summary: A family reunion brings back the young boy you grew up with. Though he wasn’t the doe-eyed boy you once knew, he stood in front of you all grown up.

this is us ^

summary: you start to fall hard for jungkook.

OT7/Multiple Members

carnival of terror ch. 2 @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

the gentlemen @honeymoonjin

summary: Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

of storms and vampires @wishesunderthestars

summary: During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn’t simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook’s sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago.

oh, little red @jincherie

summary: You knew they warned you about that path for a reason, you knew you shouldn’t take it as a shortcut. You knew, but you were running late, and you did it anyway. Oh, little red, just what have you gotten yourself into?

Ateez

Seonghwa

let me keep you warm @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: “Are you cold?” “A little bit but I’ll be okay.” “Come here, let’s get you all warmed up.”

#jjungkookislife fic rec list #jjungkookislife fic rec masterlist #jjungkookislife fic recs

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atzfilm · 1 year

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— ch_i san (m)

— pairing; android!san × reader, 19k

— genre; sci-fi, fluff, angst, smut

— summary; it's 2135, one hundred years after the rise of the Anarchist, a revolutionist group that tore the world in half. the creation of their andr_ids forced the poorer population to abide by the Anarchist rules or face death. you, a lowly machinery worker, leave work to find a defective model, ch_i san. you're forced to make the decision of helping the andr_id model, or reporting it to the leading faction. of course you make the only sane choice – follow a robot into complete and utter peril.

– warnings; death mentions, blood, weapons, wounds, guns, knives, discrimination against robots?, cursing, violence, slightly political

– note; very loosely inspired by the korean film jung_e! everyone should watch its amazing ♡

The sound of alarms awakens you from your deep slumber. Your eyes remain closed, arm thrown over your face as you whine at the sound. It is enough to wake up the others in the compound, loud grunts and curses echoed throughout the facility. It’s the first rest that you’ve had in over twenty-four hours, a frown coating your lips as you finally force your eyes open. You throw your folded towel at the speaker just above your door. You don’t expect it to suddenly stop echoing the sound, though it irritates you more when nothing happens. You grab your jumper as you glance in the mirror, wiping off the remnants of a couple hours of sleep.

Please remain in your facilities until further notice. Do not leave your compounds unless commanded by your superior officers. Please re-

You drown out the noise with the headphones over your ears, swinging open your front door. Everyone is out and about, whispers throughout the night as your faces lift to the large screen in the middle of the building. The same two sentences echo repeatedly, seemingly louder each time. Guards stand just below it, stationed at all exits from your facility. You narrow your eyes, glancing around at the others. Families begin shutting their doors, couples holding each other’s hands as they disappear into their rooms. You look around the crowd, spotting your friend just a few feet away. He meets your eyes, navigating through the crowd. You don’t bother waiting for him to reach you, walking back to your room.

He slips in through the slightly ajar door, shutting it loudly. He’s covered in filth from the laboratories, black ink decorating his fingers, prints against his face where he wiped. You hand him your box of towels, a thanks escaping his parted lips. He sighs as he cleans his face, glancing up at the small speaker in your room.

“Think it’s another drill?” He asks, brow quirked.

“At first yea. Until I saw his men standing beneath the screen, blocking all of the exits. Whatever someone stole must have been valuable. And now they’re getting us all in trouble for their mistakes,” you huff, sitting on the edge of your bed. Seonghwa takes your lone chair for himself, lifting his legs to rest against the edge of the makeshift coffee table. You scold him with a kick to his ankles, a whine escaping his lips as he drops them back to the floor. “Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean to get to trash up my place.”

“Place? More like a room,” he murmurs, straightening up in his chair. “Should have pretended that you were coupling with me so we could get a bigger size.”

“No offense Seonghwa,” you snort, sipping your glass of water. “But it’s very unlikely that they would believe it.”

“Because I’m too hot?” he grins, your frown deepening.

“Because we argue every chance we get. And my supervisor is already on my case about the backlogged work. No need to cause more trouble.”

“You should skip it,” he suggests, “I’d defend you against the world you know. A pity that I wouldn’t receive the same back,” he rests the back of his hand against his forehead, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. You scrunch your nose, tossing the empty metal cup at his face. He groans.

“I defend you every time you do something stupid, asshole. Remember that time you took the building blocks from the childhood development center? Or that time the guards wanted to take your figurines away but you said it was for your younger brother that doesn’t exist? And I had to back you up on that before they started to ask for your documentation.”

“Hey! I still have a few years left on that lie,” he notes, rubbing his cheek. “And I should be allowed to have them! Why do the children get to have the fun while I’m covered in soot?”

“Seonghwa,” you say his name a bit sternly this time, glancing at the door. Often in close quarters, a slip of the tongue is caught by a passing guard. And despite how much teasing you two do, you’d rather not see him at the mercy of the Anarchist. His little nonsensical disputes are enough.

“I know,” his face softens, straightening himself in his seat. “Think it’s something big?”

“Well—”

The alarm blares just as you begin to speak. The small monitor in your room, about a little more than ten centimeters, lights up. Seonghwa immediately slides next to you, the air tense. There’s rarely a moment it's ever bright, only in times of turmoil. He rests his hand on your knees, your gazes focused on the screen. The Anarchist appears instantly, face covered with a skull mask. It is nothing new, no one but his close advisors know what he truly looks like.

My apologies for the incessant ringing of the alarms. It is a nuisance, truly, but a necessity. I am here to inform you that there are certain models of our recent androids have left the factory and malfunctioned. There is no need to worry since they are not harmful, we have just prolonged the alarm to ensure that all of our citizens remain indoors until we find all faulty droids. If you see any, please do not hesitate to contact your facility staff. And though this does not need to be said, we strongly advise against harboring the machinery. If any of you are found to be sheltering one of the droids, your stipends will be reduced to zero and you and your immediate family will be relocated to a rehabilitation facility until we no longer see you as a threat. I thank you for your cooperation and precious time. Pray for the Anarchist.

He places his hand over his heart and you and Seonghwa do the same, repeating the monotonous phrase just as the screen flickers off. Seonghwa snorts, turning back to you.

“Seems like they can’t do anything right. I mean, escaped androids? How the hell did that even happen?”

“Don’t know,” you start, standing up from your bed. The alarms stop just as you get used to the sound. “And don’t care, frankly. Hopefully they catch them all so we can get back to being poor, miserable citizens.”

He laughs at your dry tone, grabbing his bag that he threw against the floor and heading to the door. It’s only two steps away, but Seonghwa makes the trek seem agonizingly long. He combs his soiled fingers through his hair, blowing a stray strand away from his forehead. Him escaping regulations about hair length is beyond you, but you’ve learned to question little of what he does. Seonghwa is a strange man who happens to be your best friend, but you haven’t the slightest idea on what dwells in his mind. He waves goodbye and closes the door behind him. Just as it shuts, you change your clothing into work attire, flicking off the lights of your room and swinging open the door Seonghwa just left from.

Everyone is out and about now, some speaking about the announcement the Anarchist just made. You drown out their words, taking two steps at a time as you make your way to the garage. Well, garage is a nicer way of saying dirt field with poles littered about. You spot your bike a little past the entrance, hidden between a bunch of others in poorer condition. The last time you tied it to a pole closer to the entrance it was stolen, and you’d rather that not happen again. You had to walk five miles to your assigned location at the time, and were severely scolded for walking in a couple of minutes late. You’re lucky they didn’t send you to a rehabilitation facility.

“For the love of—” You groan, stumbling back slightly as you force the bike from the metal confinement. You glance to make sure your registration sticker is still on the seat post, then you’re off. The poster of the anarchy shines on the gate of the garage as you exit, nodding at the guard at the entrance. The image is a reminder of where you stand in society, stuck under the watching eyes of a man who’s too afraid to show his face.

Hundreds of years prior you wouldn’t have to worry about this. Society was prospering for several decades at the time, the dynasty respected and nurtured. The first Anarchist grew tired of the mundane and slow lifestyle, the start of an uprise that's affected several generations after him. There were no such things like sectors in society, androids. Due to his successful reign, nothing has changed since then besides the increase in more advanced technology. Most of which you will never see.

Seonghwa and you met through your parents, former ex lovers that quickly became close friends when they found their partners in life. Both of your sets of parents are long gone, dead by their mid-thirties. Though you still have about a decade or so to go until you reach that age, it worries you. Manual labor day-to-day, especially in the conditions that you’re put under, holds a grave chance for you to die unexpectedly. Seonghwa does not care as much as you do, settled for a shorter life, but you’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to live past forty. Fifty even, if you were lucky. Though it is only a dream after all. Higher classes are the ones able to reach it, not your own.

You slide to a halt just before the entrance to the Labs, holding out your identification card to the guard. He barely gives it a glance, ushering you through the entrance. You keep your head low, quickly turning to the left right as you step foot on the other side of the gates. You’ve witnessed someone of your class mistakenly interacting with one of the higher ones. To keep a long story quite brief, they weren’t allowed back into the containment facility. Or anywhere, really. The screams still echo in your head to this day.

You park your bicycle in the very back of the racks, throwing a few pieces of scrap, rusted metal around it before jogging through the back doors. You keep your head low, ignoring the looks some of the employees give you. Holding your head high around here will only lead you into misery. You're just another number around here. Putting unnecessary attention on yourself, not ideal. You stop at the entrance to the factory, a lone man standing there. A quick glance and you realize it’s your supervisor’s boss. You stand straight as he begins to walk toward you. Was it because of the incident from yesterday?

Not that it is any fault of your own, of course. You left work the day like you usually do; entering in your employee ID and exiting the building. How could you have known that an android would be standing outside of it? And when it attacked, you followed protocol. You disarmed it, leaving its central operating system – its brain in essence – intact. So why does it matter if everything else was broken? It’s not usual for someone to defend themselves.

Though perhaps you did go a bit overboard with the limbs being removed.

“Girl.”

You still, the plan of keeping to yourself falling apart immediately. You lift your head, meeting the eyes of the lead. Though you’ve rarely had conversations with him – in fact, you cannot recall the last time you had – he’s as kind as he could be under the circumstances. You hold your breath, waiting to be reprimanded.

“Sir.”

“I was told of the situation from last night,” he starts, leaning against the panel. He’s several classes above you, the position so completely different from yours that neither of you interact. “You took apart a droid without authorization. You do understand the regulations, correct?”

“That I do, sir,” you nod, shifting your eyes when his narrow. “I understand, but it was a mistake-”

“Follow me,” he interrupts. You glance at your timecard just a few feet away. He seems to notice your hesitance and frankly, worry, but he only waves you off. “I’ve already covered your time. Your supervisor knows it as well.”

You sigh from either relief or nerves, finally stepping and following him. He leads you around the building, nodding at the security you just walked through. The guard raises their eyebrows at you but says nothing. You enter on the opposite side of the building, fingernails digging into your palms as he guides you up the steps. No one from your part of the factory enters this side unless they’re being punished. Very likely in your situation.

You just hope you get the chance to say goodbye to your best friend.

He holds the door open for you, odd enough. You thank him, bowing as you enter. It’s nothing like the camps inside. Technicians run back and forth, some typing away on a computer, others using the digital screens, swiping through the air. Saying it’s overwhelming is underwhelming in itself.

You’ve seen the technology briefly while running through the square or flickers of it when the doors opened, but not like this. The disparity between your workstation and theirs is only laughable. It’s all you can do without imploding. How they can look at you as you struggle to survive while they thrive is beyond you. The supervisor leads you past the technology and down a narrow hallway. He opens a door, gesturing for you to enter.

Just as you step in you freeze.

The tables in front of you are piled with android parts, some halfway built, others completely taken apart. The supervisor notices how tentative you are, entering after you. Engineers line up at the stations, the soft hum of music pouring from an unknown source. Ah, so they’re allowed to play music other than the regulated songs?

Oh, what a life you live.

“They work around the clock to make sure all of the San’s are properly functioning. As you know, there was an announcement today. Several of our androids have escaped their designated ports,” he says, leaning against a pillar as he watches them run about. “You disabled one of them.”

“Sir, I-”

“I am not asking for you to apologize, because it was the right thing to do,” his eyes flick to yours. “You won’t be sent to a rehabilitation camp, y/n. There’s no reason for me to bring you to this part of the facility if that was the case.”

“Then what am I here for?”

This time, his lips lift. “I want you to join our team.”

“…Pardon?”

He laughs, gesturing to the people around him. “In our sector, we dismantled and rebuild the androids that the fuckers on the top use from day to day. The demand is quite high. And we don’t have the personnel to match the pace. This is an unprecedented promotion, but I believe it’s warranted. y/n, that android that you shut down? It ranked the top of the line in defense. No ordinary worker would have been able to take it down without a keen eye for these things. It still baffles me that you’re still standing here today,” he admits, glancing at you. He stands straight, tucking his hands in his front pockets. “What do you say?”

Being placed in a different position? Sure, the current role you have right now isn’t exactly ideal, but you’re blending it. You’re often scavenging in trash facilities for your next meal. But it’s what you’re used to. It’s what you know. Rising several classes in a day? People notice those things. Officials, notice those things. Settling in your position now was the goal. It’s not what he would have wanted for you, but it’s what you’ve decided. Low enough to fly under the radar.

Still, it has been years since he died. Would they even remember you now?

“You’ll be moved from the complex you’re in now to a higher class one. There’s less guards, less eyes on you. No mandatory meetings. And you will never have to live another day without food or water, y/n,” he keeps his gaze on you this time. “People in your complex would do anything for a position like this. I know you’re not much different.”

Your brow twitches at the comment. “Patronizing a bit, no?”

He shrugs, “No, just the truth. It’s your choice to make in the end though. Decide what you’d like to do.”

Seonghwa would murder you if you didn’t make your choice now. You can imagine him now, strangling you for even thinking of saying no to the offer. So despite everything, despite all of the blaring red flags, you look back at the supervisor. His face seems kind, softer. Maybe in another life, you’d be friends.

“I’ll accept on one condition.”

He nods, “Offer it.”

“I want to bring someone with me.”

It’s a completely idiotic idea. You told Seonghwa just hours ago of what a bad idea it is to pretend to be in a relationship. Both of you bicker like enemies despite being best friends. You just hope that they’d take it as an old, long love. Your face twists up at the thought.

Ugh.

There is very little time until the next shift arrives. Seonghwa is off for the next few weeks - a favor from the supervisor - so you’ll see him when you arrive at the compound and give him the great news. Of course he’ll scold you in the beginning for thinking it over, but this is great for the both of you. Seonghwa would be able to rise in class as quickly as you, and you’ll be together. It’s what your sets of parents always wanted.

Just as you turn the corner, you stop in place. A low moan echoes from the darkness, filling the silent night. You grip the loose strands of your shirt, squinting as you stare into the darkness. You see its head first.

The android’s face is completely covered in soot – synthetic hair sticking in every which way, half of it ripped from its metal skull. It seems to breathe, air escaping its artificial crafted lips, hands digging into the dirt just outside of your facility. You turn around to look and see if anyone is there, but it’s mostly empty. Only a few minutes left until the next shift comes in and sees what you’re seeing. You reach for the emergency crowbar sitting against a near outer door, palms moist as you stare down at it. Its build is wide, the curvature of its muscles strenuous as it slowly stands. Though you’ve seen the face everywhere, bulletin boards stapled with posters of the new model, it’s alarming to see it in person. The slight dents carved into dimples on its cheek, the sharp but full brows, the set of lips eerily just like his. Your chest tightens as it meets your eyes, irises adjusting, the sound of the calibration loud in the silence. It reaches out to you but you only step back, grip on the bar loosening slightly at its gaze. It’s not him. It’ll never be him, no matter how similar it looks.

It stumbles as it moves forward, staring down at its shoes caught in the dirt patch. You should be dialing the emergency line, but you’ve heard of what happens to people who witness a malfunctioning android. Why did it have to be you? Right when your life is finally going in the right direction?

“Help,” it gasps, tugging harshly on its foot caught beneath the debris. You do not move, more out of shock than fear. How could it sound just like him as well? “Help,” it repeats, head shifting to meet your eyes.

“Go away,” you say, lips trembling. “Shut down, recalibrate so they can take you back to the factory. That is an order.”

Its eyes shift. “I am no longer taking orders from humans.”

Fuck. Your grip tightens, taking slow steps back. "Erase your data of me, please. I can't be caught with you," You glance back. "Please."

"I need your assistance –"

"Ask someone else, droid," you take another step back, only for it to move forward. You barely have five minutes until the next shift arrives. "Not me."

"I know you."

You scoff, "That's ridiculous –"

"The memory," It presses its hand against the head part, gripping it tightly. "They didn't remove the memory when I was assembled. I know who you are, y/n."

"You know nothing." You're sure it can hear how your heart rattles against your chest cavity. Memory? These things being created still had his memory? They told San it wouldn't. They made him sign a contractual agreement and it explicitly notes that fact. It's the only reason why you let him go through with it. Why you're stuck seeing his face despite him being dead for years.

"You were his lover–"

"Fuck. You. You don't know me, you piece of…" You sigh, rubbing your face. The loud buzzing sound echoes through the air and you tense, glancing back. Though no one has approached you yet, you can see the shadows slowly emerging from the opening gates. There's no time to explain even if you wanted to. They've already decided that you're a problem. No need to exasperate it further. Without another word you grab the android's hand, pulling it to the side of the building. It stumbles slightly but follows with ease, letting you guide it further away from the gates.

"There's an exit on the opposite side of the campus. Less people, no guards. Enough space for you to run."

"I will not leave without you."

"You don't know me," You gripe, glaring at its eyes. "That data, whatever shit they forgot to erase, isn't me. Not anymore."

"His death has affected you negatively."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond. It's a droid, not a therapist. “How about you watch someone you care about die, asshole. Now go. Before they see you with me.” How many times do you need to tell it so it listens? In a morbid way, it’s exactly like San. Stubbornness doesn’t seem to go away with death, huh?

“I need your assistance, no one else’s.”

“For the last time-”

It presses its hand against your forehead. Just as you begin to stumble back, memories are flicking through your brain, filling every thought. One in particular, stands out amongst the rest.

His hands were so cold. But you didn’t let go. Even as his grip began to loosen, even as his lips seemed to grow to a dusty, purplish hue. Even as his eyes fluttered, struggled to keep their gaze on yours. And even then, he smiled. Though the skin on his face seemed sunken, the wheezing of his breaths echoing around the room. Choi San was dying in front of you, and all he did, all he could possibly do…

Was smile.

You rip the android’s hand off your forehead, pressing the bar against its neck. Your heart pounded as you glared at it, grip loosening slightly as it stared. Why did they have to make it look just like him? And why did it look at you as if it was resigned, ready to die by your hand? You drop the bar from its neck, taking a step back.

“y/n–”

“Never,” you look at it, swallowing slowly. “Never do that again.”

It nods slowly. You sigh, looking around. “Why do you need me?”

“San-”

You hold up your hand, “What about him?”

“In his memories stored,” the android presses its hand against its temple. You notice that they’ve even kept the ring on its index finger. “He desired for it to be known what they’ve done to him. It is my sole goal to go to the presiding member of the governing party and show it to them, whomever it may be.”

The Anarchist? San wanted to speak to the man who made him this way? Who he gave his likeness to? You stare at the android, eyes narrowing. Bringing it to the Anarchist… there’s a possibility that it would clear your name. Your face is already stored in the memories of this droid in front of you. If they spread around, you’d probably be killed, not sent to one of the camps.

It’s a risk. Showing up at the gates of the Anarchist could lead to your death. But doing nothing will immediately do it. But you cannot do it by yourself. Traveling that far without getting caught? Almost impossible. There is one solution, of course. The only person in the world who you know wouldn’t betray you for a cent.

“Absolutely not.”

“Please.”

“y/n, remember when we spoke about, you know, leaving this hellhole, roaming the open fields and seas? This is not what I was talking about. In fact, it’s the complete opposite.”

His grip on the door is strong despite how weak he looks. You haven’t the slightest idea where or when he decided to gain muscle, but you digress.

“Haven’t I helped you out dozens of times? Give me this one.”

“By the will of the anarchist, there must not be many thoughts in that head of yours. Hiding an android and saving me from some thoughtless guards are two entirely unalike things.”

“Hwa-“

“No.”

“Please.”

“No, stupid.”

“I’ll let you see it.”

His eyes widened. “It? You've got to be more specific.”

“My chest, asshole.”

His grip loosens slightly, enough for you to shove yourself into the back door. He whines, jumping at the android that enters just behind you. Though he tries not to make it obvious the stiffness of his shoulders tell you otherwise. He peeks at you, jaw tight.

You’ve avoided the eyes of the android for the same reason. Because of Seonghwa and you being friends since you were children, he knew San as well as you did. Possibly moreso since he met him before you. It’s more than startling to see a reincarnation of your partner as a robot. Glancing at it was more than enough to unnerve you. As it begins to repair itself, Seonghwa interrupts the silence.

“He really looks just like him,” Seonghwa murmurs, rubbing the back of his head. “But like I said before: this isn’t a good idea. Hiding him, here? I mean, we’re surrounded by people from the headquarters. It’ll be Hell to try and keep him here.”

“It’s temporary.”

“It’s very dumb.”

“Seonghwa…”

“You were his confidant.” The android speaks, Seonghwa tensing up again. “You aided him until his last breath. He was appreciative of your presence, Park Seonghwa.”

His eyes widened, “You have his thoughts?”

“An android’s hardware is habitually wiped off the hippocampus, but in my batch, the engineers did not. That is why the humans are searching for us. We are non-functional in their eyes.”

Seonghwa closes his eyes for a brief moment, before looking at you. Without another word he wraps his hand around your arm, guiding you to the direction of the back door. Just as he begins to open it, you’re grabbed harshly by the robot, stopping the two of you.

“Let her go,” Seonghwa huffs.

“The memories of a past forgotten does not mean I will permit you to take her away.”

“Relax,” you place your hand on top of the android’s, pulling its fingers from your jacket. You very much know that its strength is wildly extensive in comparison to yours, so it puzzles you that it’d let go so simply. Its eyes move to you. “He’s just pissed, people are allowed to be. Wait here while we talk.”

“A wall dividing us will only be cumbersome. My auditory system is advanced enough to listen beyond man-made barriers–"

Seonghwa shuts the door as he speaks, pacing back and forth outside. There’re not too many people out and about, only the sounds of nocturnal animals roaming the area. He stops pacing, turning to look at you.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

“I know it’s a bad idea, Seonghwa. I know that. But what other choice do I have?”

“Turn it over to the headquarters, y/n. Why are you risking yourself for a fucking robot? This isn’t like you. I’m supposed to be the rule breaker.”

“If I turn him over, they’ll see the footage and put me in a center, Hwa. You’ll never see me again. They’ve all been watching me for years now since San and I…” You swallow slowly. “I can do this alone. But it’d be nice if you were to come with me.”

There’s no teasing in his expression now, no frustration. His eyes rest on yours for a moment, taking in the pure anxiety that seems to emit off your skin. Just as you think he’s going to say no, he nods slowly, a long sigh escaping his lips.

“I don’t agree with all this. But I’ll help you, y/n. San would’ve killed me if I let you go out there by yourself,” he admits, chuckling dryly. “What about my job, though? They’d notice me gone.”

“Good news,” you grin, his frown only seeming to deepen. “I was hired to be an engineer. We’re rising in class, Hwa. I told them you were my partner, and-”

“Oh, now you listen to me!” He nudges you.

“I always listen to you, I just pretend I don’t,” you step toward him, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Thank you, really. I’d probably die without you there.”

“Now we can die together,” he cheers, squeezing you back. “So, about what you said earlier…”

“Absolutely not.”

“You proposed it, not me!”

“Don’t be such a horn dog, Hwa.”

Tentative is not exactly the right word for how you’re feeling now. Seonghwa stares at the back of the android as you walk through the dense underbrush, fingers locked around the handle of his small armament. Though barely sharper than a layperson’s bread knife, he holds it as if it’ll stop it from attacking the two of you.

Humorous despite the circumstances.

The Android has repaired itself well, disassembled and reassembled its outer casing with ease. Seonghwa and you could only look in awe as it did so, the technology far beyond what either of you can comprehend. It’s almost sad to think that the world has evolved so rapidly with most of the population remaining stagnant.

“Injuring either of you is not on my mind,” the android begins, gaze sliding to Seonghwa’s hand. Its brows furrowed for a moment. “You were his friends. He wouldn’t desire for me to hurt you in any way.”

“Why does he want to go to the capital?” Seonghwa asks, ignoring the pointed look you shoot him. “San is the last person who’d ever enter that place. He hates—”

“Seonghwa,” You interrupt, your frown deepening. There’s a possibility that the android may be recording. Though the chance is slim since he has fled the facility, you don’t want to risk it. You’ve already lost enough. “Relax.”

“He despised the very existence of the Anarchist. That is why I must go. I’m the last fully operative android that still has his memories. It would be quite… disheartening to disregard the pleas that ring in my cerebral cavity.”

Seonghwa’s face twists. “…That sounds repulsive.”

The android hoots. It is hearty, filled with joy and mirth. Watching as it fills his face with so much contentment only lets the ire grow in your throat. Your friend seems to notice the familiar look in your eyes as well, wrapping his arm around yours and holding you close. It hushes your thoughts briefly, your stare away from the android again. Turning it in is the end goal. It pretends to understand San, but it’s just not him. You’re sure he wouldn’t want this.

The walk is quieter now, Seonghwa mumbling side comments to you ever so often. Only the sounds of the wilderness fill the air. You keep the android at arm’s length, eyeing it every few minutes or so to notice a change. Its “wounds” have healed, a welding material pouring from a hole in his finger, closing the tears in the metallic skin. You could only watch in wonder as it fixed itself.

“You are an engineer,” The android speaks, head at an odd angle as it turns to you.

“No.”

“You were leaving the building—”

“Look, droid,” you stop walking. “I get that I saved you and all, but we’re not friends. There’s no need for small talk, all right?”

“And I was the one who needed to relax?” Seonghwa murmurs.

It bows slightly, “I apologize if my words were offensive in any way. That was not my intention-”

“That’s the thing; You don’t have any intentions. You were manufactured in a facility just like the rest of the bots. You were loaded with San’s memories to make you feel realistic enough to pass as a human. It makes you into what you are. But you are not him. You are not a human. Get it?”

“y/n,” Seonghwa’s voice is sterner this time. “Chill.”

“Chill? How can I chill when this thing is parading around with San’s voice, pretending to know him, saying that he thinks of this or that–” The pumping in your ears drowns out your own voice, your breath hitching. It’s been years since you’ve felt this way, the memories rushing back. San lying on the bed, body covered in blood. Seonghwa pulled you away as you screamed. Your hands tremble, your fists tightening. You feel Seonghwa’s arms wrap around you, holding you close to his chest as you fall to your knees.

There is no pushing through it. Though you’ve hidden the horrible feelings of losing him, the lingering mess that you have yet to accept just continues to pour through your body. How could you move on? Is it even possible to move on from Choi San? His face is plastered every which way, everywhere you look.

“y/n, listen to me,” Seonghwa says, slowly whispering into your hair. “I know it hurts. I know it hurts so badly,” his voice cracks. You cannot see his face, but you can feel how your hair feels moist, his tears wetting your scalp. “The sadness is great. I’m here for you, you know that. Just breathe with me, alright?” he lifts your hand, resting it against his chest. “Breathe.”

Neither of you speak anymore, eyes shut as you slowly let yourself calm down. The hurt is still there, it always will be, but it’s bearable now. You pull away from Seonghwa, thanking him with a brief look before turning to the android. It doesn’t say anything, slightly stepping away as you stand.

It almost looks, afraid. Sorrowful.

How did they make them so human?

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. “I… it’s hard to see him in front of me. But there’s no reason for me to blame you on something you can’t control. I’m sorry.”

He nods, “I’m sorry for my words.” His expression changes in an instant, pushing the two of you deeper into the tree line. Seonghwa and you crouch, its body still. You hear the slow crescendo of an engine filling the silence. It crouches, glancing at the two of you. “It is stopping. But it has a flatbed in the back of the vehicle. Would it not be faster instead of walking?”

“Oh we’re really going to die,” Seonghwa murmurs, pulling his hat further over his face. He glances at you, “Want to?”

“Do we have another choice?” You turn to the android. “How long will it take us without hitching a ride.”

“Approximately four days without stopping for rest.”

It’s compact in the back of the trunk. Seonghwa squeezed on one side of the bed between boxes and you on the other. The android sits in the middle, still as the truck drives. It told you that it has a built-in mapping system. Thankfully enough, it’ll warn the two of you when the truck diverts its path. You wrap your arms around your knees, glancing at it every so often. You were a bit mean to it. Scolding it for trying to speak to you. You didn’t realize how much its appearance affected you until then. Until it spoke to you with the voice of San, looked at you. Made you realize how deeply your life feels like a maelstrom.

It is Seonghwa whose eyes you meet after a while. He’s tucked in between the boxes, head resting against a burlap wrapping. You’ve gotten used to the silent looks in times when you couldn’t speak. His eyes flick over to the android, brow quirked. He places his hand over his heart, nodding once. Are you okay? With all of this, with the android? I’m here with you.

Your smile is restrained, twitching against your cheeks. You pulled him into this mess, into your sly plan to bring the droid back into the hands of officials. Your desperation for some sort of reprieve for what you’ve gone through, what San has gone through, seems so inane now. You’re risking your best friend’s life for a goal that isn’t easily attainable. Any moment now, the droid can be programmed to report its findings. Put the two of you at risk.

Seonghwa raises his hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. This time, he mouths his next words. Don’t lose yourself in your thoughts, it’s dark in there. I’m here with you.

Your smile is easy now. Thank you.

“You can speak if you’d like,” The android looks at you. “The humans in the front of the truck cannot hear over the auditory output coming from their speakers. Even they struggle with conversation.”

“No need to risk it,” you wave him off, leaning against the crate. It tilts its head as it stares. “If there’s a lull in the audio, if we’re in the midst of a conversation and they overhear–”

“I will eliminate them.”

You shake your head quickly. “No. No. If you were to kill someone, if we’re around when you do it–” An instant death. At least with the camps there’s a sliver of a chance you’d be able to have a life again. “I don’t want to have blood on my hands.”

“Is it not strange that the officials that you follow kill without repercussions? If an ordinary citizen were to do it, even out of defense, why would it cost them their own life? It’s a bit odd that any of you continue to stand for it. The Anarchy was created to fight against an oppressed government centuries prior but are only following their predecessors. There are many things that I pity, but this is a large one.” He rests his head against his knees, humming. “There should be another rebellion so that you may live free.”

“Freedom comes at a cost, always,” Seonghwa says, eyes closed. He covers himself with a thick cloth. “Do you think there haven't been protests? Our parents were part of it. They wanted a better life for us, but didn’t see a way out. They died for their cause. We only had to promise that we wouldn’t follow in their path.”

“And we haven’t,” you add. “Sure, there’s some underground operations happening that we know of, but nothing sure enough. And the Anarchist is getting closer and closer to revealing it. It wouldn’t be wise of us to try and join.”

“So you will continue to live in a way that is unsustainable? Less than one hundred years ago there were almost nine billion humans on this Earth. Now there are barely over a hundred million. The numbers continue to drop day by day–”

“It must be San’s thoughts making you feel this way,” Seonghwa grins. “He’s always wanted to lead a group of rebels, inspire the remainder of us to fight for our rights. He thought that we would all march one day. I fear we disappointed him. Though he might approve of us helping a robot.” He throws you a smile, eyelid lifting. You know it’s to gauge your reaction, make sure you’re okay. You reflect the same expression and he sighs in content, closing his eyes once more.

“I cannot speak for him because I am not him, but disappointment is not what I would describe it as. If I am overstepping, please tell me before I continue.” It glances between the both of you. Neither of you stop it, Seonghwa mostly because he has already fallen asleep, whistling snores escaping his parted lips. “I do not choose to have these memories. When I departed the facility, all of his thoughts before he passed and previous experiences flooded my very being. It was tortuous. But there was one thing that I could not stop from appearing. You,” he looks at you, “I did not know what love was like while in the hands of the engineers. But I saw it, when he allowed me to see it. That is why it was my objective to find you. If I did not meet you at the facility, I would have entered the complex. All of the Ch_i San androids that deserted like myself, were on their way to you. I was the last. So what Seonghwa says, about him being disappointed… That is not true. He was always proud of you, proud to call you his. That is why I decided to have you assist me to the residing place of the Anarchist. He trusted you.”

“So you decided to trust a stranger because of his thoughts?” You quirk a brow.

It shrugs. It’s eerie how easily they can fit into the role of a human. A bit scary, a little endearing.

“And watching you while you mourn your lost lover. It is odd to say, but I can only describe the feeling as envy. In the training labs, they taught us how to feel. Told us what a human would do in certain situations. Explained that grief is not something you can overcome,” It says softly, legs tucked into its chest. “It’s something that comes in waves. I sometimes wish I could feel grief, feel hurt as humans do. But my emotions only mimic what it is. Having an emotion so strong and severe that it overwhelms your very being. It is what I’ve always wanted.”

Its eyes move to yours. “It is hard to find beauty in sadness. But is it not better to feel something than to feel nothing at all? Everything I say and do is calculated. I go through a million responses in less than a second before responding. Even now, each word is carefully chosen to articulate my processes. Speaking freely is not something I can do. I wish I could stumble over my words, rethink what I am saying as I am saying it. But that's not possible for me once I've chosen my sentence structure."

“San,” you say, resting your hand on its knee. It doesn’t seem to want to meet your eyes, only watching your hand. “Is that not what humans do? We pick and choose our words, we think before we speak. Most of the time,” you add, a smile slowly rising on its cheeks. “It was wrong of me to say that you didn’t. To call you it. And don’t give me that look,” you scold, shaking your head. “It was wrong. Who am I to blame you for something you didn’t do?”

“I understand, though. I understand how it has hurt you. Though I cannot fully comprehend it, I saw it. How the feelings distressed you to the point where you could not stop it from happening. Again, I apologize for unsettling you in such a way. I wouldn’t want you to hold that inside of you again.”

It– no, he holds up a hand, silencing you just as you’re beginning to speak. He points at the back, irises narrowing. You can see the blue glow slowly fading, blending into the dark. It’s only been a few hours since you’ve hitched the ride, you expected a few hours more until they stopped. The gravel crunches as they steady to a stop. They park on an incline, the sound of doors closing. You listen closely to their steps fading into the distance, glancing at the… no. Looking at San.

He slowly makes his way out of the flatbed, Seonghwa finally raising his head. He opens his mouth to speak but you shush him with your finger against your lips, shaking your head. San steps out, pushing the burlap covering back. He’s light on his feet, unexpected from a robot. Just as he turns to you, shots ring out. You flatten yourself against the bed, but Seonghwa isn’t as quick as you. He holds his legs up in front of his chest, blocking the bullets. The sound is painful to even listen to, your eyes glued to him as you see the blood seep through his pants, splatter against your face. San blocks the rest that come, most hitting him in his body. Your mind is too consumed to see if he’s okay, immediately going to Seonghwa’s side. He groans, arms falling to the bed. You’re not sure what you say but he listens to you as you pull back his pants. The bullets are deeply embedded, nothing you can pull out with ease. Perspiration decorates his forehead as his breaths hitch, eyes glued to his leg.

“y/n,” San says softly, moving closer to your side. He holds his hand over yours, pushing it away. “I’ll help him.”

You can only nod, letting go of Seonghwa. He moves in front of you, uttering something to Seonghwa before he begins to pull the bullets from his skin. Seonghwa groans, teeth biting harshly on the cloth in his mouth. Did you give that to him? Did San? You stare in silence, San grabbing a blanket on the side and ripping it. It’s a makeshift gauze, wrapping it around Seonghwa’s leg for temporary relief.

“I only injured the human, but I have to eliminate him,” San glances at you. “It is in self-defense, y/n. I know you insisted that I not, but we have no other choice. They will come back for us.” He moves away from Seonghwa, nodding, “She will stay with you while I do this.”

"Stop," you grab his wrist with both of your hands, hoping he’d finally listen. Instead, he only tugs against your hold harshly, pulling itself out of it. There's no use, there never was, but you wish there were. "Why won't you ever listen to me?"

"I don't take orders from you–"

"Fucking hell San, I can't lose you again. I–" You stop speaking, eyes widening. He finally turns to you. It's odd how much emotion the eyes hold. They now look at you with pity, sorrow. Just another reminder that it isn't your San. That your San wouldn't risk his life this way. That he'd stay with you and figure it out together.

"I'm not him, y/n."

"I know that."

"It doesn't feel that way, no?" Its lip lifts, cheeks creasing. "It's complicated to see me when I look like him. Feelings get mixed up, I understand. There's not a need to project them onto me."

"Then–"

"I am a Droid, y/n," he says simply. "Parts can be replaced. I'm not irreparable."

You look at the holes in his body, none leaking blood. Most ricocheted off of him. You press your lips together, taking in a breath. Right, he's right. "Be careful. I can't repair you, it's not as simple as you make it out to be. I don't have the clearance nor the skill. Just, be careful."

He nods quickly, the grin only making your chest tighten more. Technology this sophisticated is beyond your own mental capacity. How they make the models look just like your dead boyfriend is just not something you can comprehend. Though this model feels different, in a sense. More real, alive. As alive as a droid can be, of course. Your nails dig into your skin, the pain distracting enough. You pick at the loose skin of your lips as you wait for him. You hear Seonghwa groan in pain, immediately pulling away from the edge of the flatbed to see if he’s somewhat okay. You eye the wrapping around his leg, whispering an apology to him as he withers in pain. There’s nothing you can do until San’s back. Sewing up a wound without the tools is just not something you can do. So you let your thoughts wander as you wipe his forehead, humming softly to distract him.

You thought the pain would be gone by now. That the years that have passed somehow made it better. But hearing him speak to you, the tone so eerily similar to his, it only pains you further. Even the way the android enunciated his words, the quirk of his brow, the frown on his lips. It is all too familiar. You do know that empathy is built into the newer models to make them feel more human, and you're thankful that they didn't dissect San that deeply to pull that part of his personality as well. Some things you would love to keep to yourself. You wince, glancing at your skin. You've broken it, being so deeply involved in your thoughts. Red crescents decorate your arm as your eyes follow movement in the shadows.

If only you left Seonghwa, brought no one along with you. He’d scold you for your thought process right now, but it’s true. You didn’t want to be alone. You caused his hurt.

“I know what you’re doing,” he grabs your leg, eyes still closed. “I fucked up and let them shoot me. Don’t blame yourself for everything that I do, y/n.”

“Stop straining yourself, Seonghwa,” you warn, wiping his forehead against with a loose cloth. “I can’t have you hurt more than you already are.”

“It’s a thigh. I’ll be fine.”

“Hwa, shut up.”

He chuckles lightly, “Stop distracting me from what I’m saying. Don’t put the blame on yourself.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it,” you murmur, reaching for another stray cloth to wipe him off. “You know how I am. But you let me drag you here with me anyway. I just, I won’t be able to forgive myself if you-”

“I’m not dying,” he cuts in. “I told you I’d never leave you, y/n. A fucking bullet to the thigh isn’t going to take me out. We promised each other we wouldn’t abandon each other, right? Right?”

“...Right.”

“Then listen to my words, y/n. I am not leaving you, and you are not leaving me. We’re stuck together whether we like it or not. He wouldn’t forgive me if I left you behind. Hell, I think he’d kick my ass if I made it up there without you by my side,” he snickers, resting against the boxes. “I just didn’t think regular people had access to weapons that powerful anymore. Being in that compound was safer than we thought, huh?”

“Grateful that we lived our whole lives in a four by four room?” Your words drip with sarcasm.

“Sometimes yeah. But now we get a six by six room because of your promotion,” he grinned, wiggling his brows. “If we don’t get caught along the way that is. Yunho wouldn’t be too pleased to see us on a most wanted poster.”

“Yunho?”

“That’s the supervisor’s name, yeah. He’s not around much, but it’s hard not to notice when he is. Towers over everyone else around. Even me.”

“Hate to break it to you, Hwa. But you aren’t the tallest person in the world.”

He gasps, eyes widening, “You take that back!”

The burlap opens again and you immediately cover Seonghwa. San stands there, a tight smile on his lips as he glances between the both of you. His hands are covered red, clothing stained the same. He offers no explanation and you don’t care to ask, looking down at Seonghwa. “Are you able to stitch him up?”

He nods. “Of course.”

You grip the steering wheel, eyes glued to the road in front of you. The truck isn’t at all going fast, but it’s your first time behind the wheel of a vehicle this large. You had one opportunity when you were young while applying for different positions; the car was much smaller and you crashed it. But San can’t drive because he might interfere with the technology, and Seonghwa isn’t exactly in the condition to do so. So it’s up to you. The woman who’s always been afraid of sitting in the seat. You glance at Seonghwa in the rearview mirror, head tilted to the side as he sleeps. San was able to close up and clean his wound, telling you that it was non-life threatening as he did so. You thanked him with a side smile.

Neither of you have spoken since then, silent as you drive down the dirt road.

You try not to look at him but you can’t help it, your eyes lingering on his face before flicking away when he turns in your direction. Being in close quarters, you can see the difference. His muscles are more defined, face sculpted without any blemishes or markings, besides the ones he received just hours ago. And he’s quieter than your San. Eyes on the road. Arm resting on the car door, wind covering up the silence somewhat.

All of this is silly. Pretending not to at least care slightly for the Android. Despite his outer appearance, he’s kind. You wonder if it’s the influence of having human memories, or if it’s his own choice, If he has chosen to be kind. There was no reason for him to block the bullets from Seonghwa, no reason for him to protect the two of you from those people. All of this is just so confusing.

Your fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

“Will you remain in silence for the entire duration of this journey?”

“How much time do we have left?” You ask. You glance at his eyes, watching as they dilate as he processes the question.

“If there are no further disruptions, we will be in Neo Seoul in approximately three hours.”

“Perfect.”

He stares at you, body turned toward you as you drive. You ignore it as best you could, tapping your thumb on the wheel as you stare out. Unfortunately, there’s nothing too interesting on the dark road besides a few trees. You let it occupy your mind, until he clears his throat. As if he actually needs to.

“I would like there to be no animosity between us.”

“There isn’t.”

“You continue to say that, but each time I begin to speak you interrupt me. Is that a human habit that I do not know of, or is it just you?” His brow quirks. Oh, so he does know sarcasm.

“I don’t like that you have his face, but I don’t like even more that you have his tone of voice too. It’s unsettling,” you glance at him. He keeps his body turned toward you, silent. “And uncomfortable. I know it’s not your fault but I honestly don’t like looking at you.”

“That’s fair,” he nods, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. Nothing like San’s, you think. Nice to listen to. “I just hope that we will continue to get along as we make this journey. I didn’t consider that you may hate looking at me because of your past, but now that I have I can understand your enmity toward me.”

“Great, glad that we established that.”

“I do not like your acerbity, though,” he admits, sinking further into his seat. “It is amusing only if it’s not used for me. I’m trying to consider your feelings but you only respond with harshness. You apologized for not seeing me as my own being, and yet you’re continuing to treat me the same as before. What am I to think?”

“I didn’t expect you to be so sentient. All of the androids I’ve come across didn’t have as much personality as you. More stiff, followed orders. None of them would even have a conversation like this with me,” you check on Seonghwa through the mirror again before continuing. “I didn’t know you could think on your own, in all honesty.”

“I can,” he says simply. “My model was made to reflect the human experience. Models before me were not given empathy, remorse, curiosity. Though I do not have emotions like you have, I can mimic a lot of them. I think more so since I still have memories of a life that wasn’t mine. We were created this way because of the decrease of the population. Less humans born, less socialism, less interrelationships. The birth rate is at an all time low, you see. No one interacts as they have before. The population is growing old, but there are rarely, if ever, natural births. They believed that my model would be able to encourage relationships again. That’s why I can catch your tone of voice, analyze your words. I was created to understand humans. To help you mingle so that relationships form. Though, my model is geared toward…” he trails off, frowning. “I do not believe you would like to hear this next fact.”

“I don’t, because I’ve seen the ads. I know what they’re using his likeness for,” you murmur, stomach tightening. “Nothing I can do but complain to them. They never listen, they never have. And I can only do so much before they decide I’m not worth keeping alive anymore. So if I have to see him across bulletins then so be it.”

“If there were some way I could assist, I will,” he says. His smile is small, a dimple on his upper lip appearing against his skin. It’s endearing, to say the least. Enough for you to look away and hide your own reflecting smile. He notices it though, despite you wanting to hide it.

“I’m fine with staying.”

“What if someone, I don’t know, decides to steal the truck and finds a bloody man in the backseat? Don’t you think that’d be at least a little alarming?”

“Sounds like a fun time.”

“Seonghwa, I'm being serious.”

“So am I! Who wouldn’t want to find me? Headaches disappear when eyes meet mine.”

“Oh you’re entirely sick, aren’t you?” You glare at him and he only shrugs, a teasing grin on his lips.

You’ve parked the truck in a back alley just at the entrance of the city. It’s far enough out that no one would notice unless they’re really looking, and close enough for you to run back in case of trouble. Leaving your best friend here while you travel with San is the last thing you want to do, but what other choice do you have? Let San walk alone into the city and be immediately stopped by a patrol, or go alone with him without Seonghwa.

Either choice isn’t really ideal. As you stare at your very odd friend, an idea pops into your head.

“Remember Dune?”

Seonghwa’s frown deepens. “We are not going to them.”

“It’s a guarantee you’ll be safe, Hwa. I can’t leave you here by yourself and you know it. They’re the only guys we know in the city besides Blue Bird, and he’s been missing for a while.”

“No, I don’t trust them.”

“Push your little rivalry to the side for one second and think. Would you let me stay here by myself when I can’t even walk on my own? Would you?”

His eyes narrow as he stares at you. Your smile grows, and you nod.

“Good. We’re going. San, can you hold Seonghwa? It’s just a few blocks into the city.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but he holds out his arms to San. “Despite the circumstances, I’ve always wanted a strong man to carry me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

The hideout is just as expected. Tucked between the outskirts of the city and a block from the city center, you gaze up into the sky. The obnoxious glowing neon sign greets you as you stare up, regret slowly rising in your chest. Though there’s no one else you trust as much as them (which is barely, if at all), being back here after years makes that dull ache appear again. San told you to stay away from them, from jealousy mostly. Either one of the men resting on that roof touches anything that gives them the slightest bit of interest.

It amuses you mildly that you never gave them the time of day.

San kicks open the door to the bar, the small Chili Peppers sign greeting you on your way in. Curious gazes flick over San walking by, but none stand. Probably a good thing; rarely do the dwellers want to involve themselves with technology the government creates. You’re sure that most of the people in here have some sort of warrant against them.

You stop at the back door, nodding slightly at the guard who blocks it. He tips his hat to you, a slow grin revealing decaying teeth. “Haven’t seen you around for years, pretty.”

“Death does that to you,” you shrug. He nods, spitting tobacco in the bucket and gesturing you forward. He pauses slightly at Seonghwa’s condition. “Ran into some patrols. Nothing too crazy, the bot took care of them.”

“Just like the San we knew,” he agrees, pushing open the door for you. You thank him, letting San and Seonghwa enter first before shutting it behind you. You rub your face, looking at Seonghwa. He’s been stuck in his whole head the whole time, the frown seemingly etched into his skin. You nudge his foot and his glare moves to you. “It’s only for a couple of days, Hwa. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I don’t trust them, y/n. What if they try to make you take a job? We can’t be involved in the rebellion. Not when we’re so close to finally moving up in classes.”

“I’m not going to accept it, you know that,” you wait for the elevator, San listening silently to the two of you speak. “And Hongjoong owes me one.”

“He owed San, not you.”

“Same thing,” you shrug. The door slowly opened. San steps in first with Seonghwa, carefully navigating so that his head is protected. You enter after, pressing the button for the top floor. It creeks closed, your argument mute. The only place they didn’t have speakers was that little corridor you were just in. Now, you’re sure they have eyes on you as you rise. They could stop it halfway, make you leave. But it continues to pass each floor. It dings.

“Hey,” Seonghwa touches your arm. “Whatever they say, don’t take it to heart. You know how they are.”

You snort, “Unfortunately I’ve had first hand experience.”

“Are they truly this dangerous?” San furrows his brows, and you can only nod.

“The leaders of the rebellion. There’s nothing they’re afraid of. And San, keep quiet? Both of them hate androids more than me. They’d probably dismantle you if you utter even a word.” The doors slide open.

The smell is what greets you first. Familiar in the dark corners of your compound, used to forget the horrors of daily life. You’ve never indulged, not willing to lose your sane mind for even a moment. You had to pull Seonghwa out of a bad trip off the stuff, solidifying your stance. People of all sorts line the hallway to the rooftop door. Most lost in their own bubbles, some lost within one another’s. You wrinkle your nose at the sight, stepping over a couple in the middle of the act. You push the door open, the cool breeze hitting your skin. You glance behind, watching San slowly place Seonghwa in a by-the-way wheelchair. You hold open the door and let them pass you. The music echoes throughout the roof. Through the crowd of people you spot the two men you’ve been looking for. One with a rifle strapped on his back, nursing a beer as he stares out into the night. His hair a startling coral, bright against the darkened landscape. His eyes flick to the opening door, lazily roaming over Seonghwa, frowning slightly when he sees San. Resting on your eyes. The slit between his brow is more of a scar now, passing through the sclera and touching the bridge of his nose. He maintains the contact as he tips his head back, beer dripping down the corners of his lips. You look away.

Hongjoong isn’t far away from him, tongue down the throat of one of his dozens of conquests you’ve seen since you’ve known him. So deeply involved that he does not notice your presence at all until Mingi clears his throat, tipping his hat. Hongjoong pulls away from the lips of the person, leisurely letting his gaze slide over to you. His eyes widen briefly, a hysterical laugh escaping his lips as he stands quickly. Too quick, stumbling slightly as he moves over the piles of bodies around him. His hair is a bright blue now, probably in contrast to Mingi's. You're sure the shorter man likely dragged him to the shop to dye it.

“Oh pretty y/n has finally come back to us! Taking my proposal to heart, hm?” He grins. A lip ring decorates his face, new piercings scattered about on his skin. He pouts when you say nothing, Stetson resting on a string, hanging on his back. “San died, you know. You can speak to me now.”

“Always an asshole, huh?” Seonghwa murmurs. Hongjoong rolls his eyes, roaming over Seonghwa’s body. “If you have something smart to say just say it already.”

“Thought I’d be the one to put you in a wheelchair. Can’t believe you did it yourself! Thought that asskissing Choi would have kept you away from bullets.”

“Oh, fuck you–”

“Enough of the dick measuring, please,” you wave him off. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh,” his brows furrow. He takes the cigarette from resting on the back of his ear, cradling it between his lips. “Then? San swore up and down he’d never step foot on this roof again.” Hongjoong gestures to the android. “Didn’t think he’d show up as a bot.”

“Cold shit, Joong,” Mingi murmurs, leaning further into his seat.

“Ah it’s been a few years, I’m sure she’s gotten over it,” he rolls his eyes. “What you want then, pretty?”

“Protection.”

Mingi seems finally interested in the conversation, eyes opening to stare at you. Hongjoong holds the match up to the end of his cigarette, cupping it as he inhales. “I’m listening,” he mumbled, blowing the smoke to the side where Seonghwa sits. Said man coughs.

“I have to bring Sa– the Android to the city center. I can’t carry Seonghwa around with me for obvious reasons, so I need someone to watch him while we’re gone. And you’re the only ones in the city we know.”

“The bullets in him? Where’d it come from?” Mingi asks.

You hesitate. Hongjoong seems to notice this, a small smirk rising on his lips. “Oh, you got into some shit didn’t you?” He glances at Mingi. “Why do you think we want to involve ourselves in your fuckups?”

“You promised San a favor.”

“That I did. But as all of us can see,” he looks around, “That kid’s six feet under. Or ash somewhere in a coal mine. Whatever they do with the bodies, I don’t give it much thought. So yea, we owed San a favor. We don’t owe you shit.”

“Please,” your fists tighten. “I know you and Seonghwa don’t really get along–”

“Well that’s a fucking understatement.”

“–but we have nowhere else to go, Hongjoong. Mingi. I could try finding Blue Bird but we don’t have the time to. I’ll…” you can feel Seonghwa’s eyes burning into your back, knowing that your next words are the opposite of what he’d want. “I’ll owe you.”

Hongjoong laughs, clapping loudly. He pulls the cigarette from his lips, chuckles still escaping his lips. “Owe me? Oh kitten, now why would you sign up for something like that? You’re really desperate, aren’t you? Has that android done something to you, make you want to listen to it, huh?” He moves closer to you, watching as you step closer to San. “Must have fucked you good, huh?”

“Don’t be an ass,” you hiss.

He raises his hands, “What? Just asking, as all. I wonder why. Why fuck a droid when you could have one of us?" Hongjoong holds a lollipop between his lips, free hand tending to the cigarette. He's always been an asshole, a trait that did not seem to go away with time. "Or both. At once, separately. Doesn’t really matter in the end, hm?“

“I’d owe you, Hongjoong. But I’m not a sex doll to use for your amusement.”

This time his frown deepens. “Wouldn’t use you like that kitten and you know it. Consensual, as always,” he tosses the cig to the side, not bothering to stub. He rubs his chin, walking back and forth slowly. “Making me take care of my old partner. The man I swore I’d kill if we ever saw each other again. This is a hard thing to do, you gotta know that right?” He raises his brow.

“A one time thing,” you insist.

“Deal.” Mingi says, standing up from his spot. His height surprises you every time you witness him, having to tilt your head slightly as he towers over you. He holds out his leather clothed hand, shaking yours. “He already agreed before you came up here.”

“My God, Song. Let me do the dramatics at least once,” Hongjoong pouts. Mingi rolls his eyes, stepping around the four of you, leaving you alone with him. “He’s right, though. But now that I have a favor from you without even asking for it,” the grin is more sinister now, alarming. “It’s much more fun, now.”

"I can't believe you."

"They weren't going to let you stay there, I had to come up with something."

"Oh. Like your life?" Seonghwa glowered, hands gripping the handle of the wheelchair. "Why would you do that? Why would you offer yourself such an open-ended deal, y/n? They could send you anywhere! They could send you to wherever Blue Bird is. They could recruit you for a fucking suicide mission. Why would you do this?"

"I'm trying to protect you–"

"I don't need protection! I'm a grown man, y/n. We aren't kids anymore. I can take care of myself. I can survive by myself. But this…" He waves his hand at the space between the two of you, "Whatever this is that you're trying to do. I don't want any part of it. I'm not going to stand idly by and watch you go down this righteous path because a fucking robot told you this is what San wanted."

"It is what he wanted, Hwa. I know it."

"You don't know shit. That thing could be making it all up because he has the memories of San. He could be coaxing you to believe in this fairytale because you haven't properly grieved yet. I mean, you could barely say his name, y/n. This robot isn't him. And I just don't think you see it. I'm not sure you ever will. This is the last thing I'm going to say. You can run off with the Android, fine. But don't come back here after everything is done because I won't be here."

"Seonghwa," you whisper, eyes flicking over to San. He says nothing, standing patiently in the corner of the room. He guards the door, eyes darkened to a black as the two of you speak. Seonghwa is right, in a sense. You're trusting an Android because of his words, because he indeed looks so eerily like San that it's hard to distinguish between the two. You haven't properly mourned for your lost loved one. And glued to the side of an Android that looks just like him is only going to delay the process. And you love Seonghwa. Despite how often you argue about frivolous things or how often you bicker, he's all that you have. And you're all that he has.

"Okay," you say, nodding slowly. "San?"

He straightens up, stepping closer to the two of you. You can't meet his eyes, playing with your fingers as you say the next few words. "Seonghwa and I have brought you to where you need to be. Just follow the signs to the Town Hall at the center of Neo Seoul. There's a large red building just behind it. This is where the Anarchist resides. You'll be able to talk to him about anything you'd like." You look up, hating that you've even done so. San stares at you, expression confused, eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't understand. You will not come with me?"

"If they see you with me they'll arrest me for harboring a fugitive Android. You'll never be able to see the Anarchist then. I'm sorry it has to be this way."

His eyes roam over you, resting on your nervous hands. Without a word, he lets his fingers entwine with yours. You still at his touch, watching as he lifts your hand, letting it hover between the two of you.

"Is this what you truly desire? For me to venture on my own without you? This is what you want from me, y/n? Do you want me to leave you?"

You gripped the broken umbrella between your fingers, stared at San as he stood between the barriers. You've told him countless times to never cross it without you, to always have you there in case someone sees him. That time you were furious. Stumbled over stones, scraped your knees against jagged rocks to make it to the top. You could hear the sirens below, echoed in the night as he watched you.

"Do you want me to leave you?"

"I told you this is a bad idea, love," you grunted, holding the tree bark tightly. You could feel it sinking into your skin. "We should get back to our stations before they notice we're gone."

He laughed. "You think they would care about two low class personnel?"

"We can't take the chance, San–"

"And yet here I am, asking you. Do you want me to leave you?"

"Yes," you say. "You'll be safer without me trailing behind you. Just be careful. There's a lot of people that want free roaming androids. You'll sell high on the cyber market. For parts or otherwise."

He nods, pulling his hands from yours. “Ok. I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.”

You merely nod, knowing that just as he disappears from your sight you’ll be on your way back. Guilt racks through you as he turns away, waving goodbye and closing the door behind him. It’s for the best, you know it is. It just hurts that you have to lose someone else again. It’s your fault for getting attached. If you let your heart settle just a bit more, you wouldn’t have agreed to any of this. You would have reported the Android without a second thought.

You sit near the window, eyes flicking over the landscape. It’s surprising how even in the middle of the night, the city still shines. Billboard shining, advertisements everywhere you look. There’s beauty in it all, laughter in the air, an endless night. Looking at happiness shouldn’t make you feel this bitter.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You hear him from the bed, unwilling to turn and look. “I pushed you to the edge, I made you make that decision. I shouldn’t have.”

“I needed to hear it,” you say back, picking at a loose thread. “I need to settle my own feelings before caring about an Android with his face. I can’t separate the two.”

“You can, you just need some help, that’s all. I want to help you.”

You moisten your lips, teeth pulling at your skin, “How can you help me when I don’t even know where to begin? It feels like I can’t breathe. I hate that I look at San and think of our San. I hate that I can’t move on, that I have to learn to live with this feeling. That I have to remember him for longer than I’ve known him. I am trying. I pretend that laughing doesn’t hurt so much and I force myself to think of work so my mind doesn’t dwell on it too long. I miss him, Seonghwa,” you look at him. His face is barely lit in the shadows, but you see how he rests his head on his hand, watching you. “I thought I was over it already. I thought I moved on. But thinking about it just makes me want to cry. And now that San is gone it feels like I’m losing someone I care about all over again when I shouldn’t feel that way. I’ve barely spent time with him, I…”

“You know it’s not our San,” Seonghwa whispers. “I know you know.”

“But I don’t know I know.”

“No, you do. Somewhere deep down you do. I see the way you look at him, y/n. The face startles you for the briefest of moments, but you settle within yourself. Grief doesn’t go away, we just learn to live with it. And I know it’s scary, believe me. But this is for you. This is all for you.”

“What do I do, then?”

“What do you want to do?” He smiles, brows raised. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here. I told you I won’t leave you. Don’t listen to what I said before. I trust that fucking robot despite it all. It’s something about him. Even San wasn’t half as annoying as him.”

You snicker, “I would have left him years ago if he were. God,” you drag your hand over your face, closing your eyes. “I’ve got to go after him. They’ll lock him up and dispose of him before he gets anywhere.”

“Good. Now go please,” Seonghwa waves you off. “I’ve already dealt with the Dune duo, and would like to have at least some semblance of peace tonight.”

“We wouldn’t have been going through this right now if you weren’t being such an ass earlier,” you stand, grabbing your already packed bag off a stool. He waves you off again, groaning when you rub his hair, locks tangled. “Thank you though. I think it would have been worse if I went without realizing that I care for the droid.”

“You’re welcome~” he murmurs, lifting the blanket and tucking himself further into the sheets. You whisper a goodnight, swinging the door open. Just as you begin to think about where exactly San could be, you spot a familiar face resting against the wall. His eyes adjust in the dark hallway, a smile slowly forming on his lips when he meets your eyes.

“You never left?”

He shakes his head, “It felt like you didn’t want me to go. I wanted to be sure.”

You lean against the wall, following him as he rises to his feet, “You heard everything then?”

His eyes widened, “I cannot hear through walls.”

“Oh? Because I distinctly remember you telling me that walls cannot block the sound from your auditory systems-”

“Shall we go?” He quickly moves around you, stumbling slightly over a loose piece of wood, walking faster than you’ve ever seen from him. You laugh behind him, jogging behind to catch up.

Most citizens barely give the two of you a glance. In your own town, you’d immediately be questioned, asked for his identification card and yours. But no one around here seems to care at all, keeping to themselves. You see more and more San androids lining the streets, the same ill feeling turning in your chest. But your San pulls you closer, letting his hands settle in yours as you walk through the streets. You’re thankful for it, your heart and stomach settling down enough to distract from the horror of seeing his face everywhere you look, being touched by strangers.

“It’s not too far ahead,” San narrows his eyes, flicking over the landscape. Approximately a few more meters or so. Do you believe they will allow us to meet the Anarchist?“

“To be completely honest with you,” you almost trip over a crack in the sidewalk but San immediately lifts you with ease, guiding you forward. “I doubt they’ll let us into the building, let alone a conference with the Anarchist. We’re nobodies. Well, maybe not you, but I am. I have a plane, though.” Seonghwa seemed to believe that Yunho’s name carried weight. Maybe it carries enough weight that you’ll be able to enter the building.

The two of you ascend the large stone staircase. You pull your hand from San’s hold just as you make it to the top, immediately swarmed by several guards. San stands closer to you, hand slowly wrapping around your hip, pulling you close to his side.

“I’m here for the Anarchist.”

“What is your business girl?” One of the guards ask.

“I’ve spoken to Yunho…” you start, seeing if it gauges a reaction from any of them. “And he told me that the Anarchist would meet me under any circumstance.”

“And you know Yunho?” Another asks, brow raised.

“I do.”

“Name, girl.”

A few stand by you as one disappears into the building, hand resting on a communication device attached to his temple. Unknown weapons rest on their hips. It’s a longshot - you interacted with Yunho one time before disappearing for days. It’ll be a miracle if he’d even remember your name, let alone let you see the Anarchist. San tightens his grip on you once you see the building open once more. The guard nods at the others, and they push the two of you forward.

“The Anarchist is free to see you.”

“It worked,” he mumbled. “Perhaps this Yunho does have power in the ruling class.”

“Maybe he does,” you say back, slowly following the guards. The building is massive, ceilings taller than you’ve ever seen, glass artwork lining the walls. Wealth in every corner of the building. One of the treasures resting behind the glass could feed your compound for months on end. Though you’re here for San only, it makes you wonder. Would the Anarchist even listen to a plea like that? He knows how his people live in poverty, it’d be moronic of him not to know.

“Sir, your guests have arrived.” The guard says just outside a door. It’s quite anti-climatic compared to the lavish hallways you’ve walked through. Perhaps the man himself is a minimalist? You expect the guards to stay behind but they immediately exit the vicinity, leaving you and San to stand at the closed door. It takes a moment for him to come out, a part of you wondering if he is even in there or if he took a bathroom break, until the door swings open.

You take a step back, brows furrowed at the man who greets you at the door. His expression seems to match yours, a small smile spreading on his face.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when they told me that y/n was here with a malfunctioning Android. Quite appalling, even. Imagine my surprise when I open the door to find the two of you standing here.” He laughs, pushing it further ajar. “Enter, please. The guards are not allowed to witness my face. But you have already.”

San enters first, waiting patiently for you to follow. You pull yourself out of the initial shock, squeezing past the man to enter his room. It’s nothing spectacular, an ordinary bed sits next to a desk in the far corner. Artwork lines the walls, but it isn’t eye-catching enough for you to linger on it for long. The opposing wall to the entrance has a wall of windows to gaze upon the city, lighting up the room without a need for actual lamps. The lock clicks shut behind you.

“You are the Anarchist?” You turn back to him. “Why were you at my facility if you are the most powerful man in the world? It makes no sense–”

“Too many questions and lingering ends, y/n. The Anarchist is able to move anywhere he likes because there are only a few who know what he truly looks like. You happen to be one, now,” he hums.

“I don’t understand,” you admit.

"Ever heard of the Wizard of Oz?" You stare blankly at him, and his sigh only deepens. "It makes you wonder how the world can continue living in such a way, when our people do not even know references such as that."

"A problem you created."

"Oh, you poor woman," He tsks, tilting his head as he gazes at you. "You believe all of this, the hierarchy system, the government, is because of me? The Anarchist? Don't you believe someone would've taken my place by now?" He steps around you, glancing briefly at how San moves closer to you. It's nothing you notice through your fury. He opens the curtains, gesturing for you to move forward. San follows immediately, stepping in between the two of you as you look out.

The city is bright, advertising several different models of androids across billboards, light brighter than you've ever seen. You're used to the darkness, the creatures of the night. Seeing such vast technology, things you've never heard of just outside the window… more than culture shock. Yunho hums, resting his hand against the glass.

"The Anarchist started the revolution years ago but his time has passed. This position is only a figurehead. I follow the word of counsel. My grandfather was the first Anarchist, yes, but after that we hold nothing. No power, no control. I haven't said a word that wasn't scripted by them my entire life. The only reason I'm in this position is because they want me to. I'd be eliminated if they found no use for me anymore, y/n. And that is why I thought it best that I let some androids go before the human memories were removed." he nods at San. "I told you to become an engineer, to follow me into that building for a reason. I wanted one of them to find you, to convince you to come here."

The words seem to jumble together as you stare out the window. This was all contrived? A plan to get you to see how the world works? But who would care about what you think? You're nothing in comparison to everything else.

"The people are tired," Yunho continues to explain. "The rule of the Anarchist is not necessary anymore. They need a new leader, someone like them. Someone who understands rebellion. Who has lived in the lower classes, who knows how it feels to starve–"

"No." You interrupt immediately. "I'm not going to become this leader of a rebellion, Yunho. I came here so that you can–" You stop, looking at San. He waits patiently for you to speak. You came here so that he will be eliminated. So that you could continue your mundane life, live as you once did. Yet despite your initial purpose, it's not what you want any longer. San being taken away, this San. You can't imagine a world with him gone. "I came here because San wanted to."

"You follow the words of an Android?" Yunho's brow quirks. "For what reason? You could have lived a life of comfort and yet you chose to take this journey to see the Anarchist because a robot wanted you to. Do you hear yourself?"

"If someone you loved were turned into androids, and one of them still had the memories of them, would you turn down their request? Would you?"

Yunho thinks for a moment, before shrugging. "Unfortunately, I haven't the experience to confirm yes or no. There's no one in this world that I care about, or who cares for me. But I empathize with your position. I can see why he has swayed you. What is it you want then, droid? What has San the human wanted you to do?"

"It seems unnecessary now," San starts. His eyes roaming over yours. It's a curious expression now, but you can see the gears in his head turn. "The human, Choi San, wanted you to keep the promise that you gave him when you died. But it seems to be the case, already. Will you continue to protect her?"

"What are you saying?" You ask, but he ignores you, staring intently at Yunho.

"I have since he died, though not intentionally. She has kept up her part of the bargain so I have as well."

You try pushing past the solid frame of San to stand directly in front of Yunho but he stops you with an arm. Just as you begin to glare he silences you with a look. If it's important, this important to fight to get here, you need to know. You need to know what this was all for.

"Isn't it fair to tell her? You've risked her life bringing her here. San would be upset."

He clenches his fists at the words, shaking his head. "He explicitly said in his memories that I couldn't. That she would be upset."

"You drag me out here and you won't tell be what the fuck you're going on about?" You scoff, moving away from him to stand by the opposing window. "At least I know it's the truth. San always liked to hide the important things from me. Like dying." The dryness of the back of your throat slowly spreads as you hold back your tears. Fuck him, fuck this robot, fuck Yunho. You fought for him to get to the Anarchist only to be kept in the dark again. Just as you always were. Just as you'll remain.

You could only laugh.

"y/n, please –"

"Don't." You hold up your hand.

"If the Anarchist would like to discuss it, he may. But I cannot. My apologies." He stops talking, stepping a bit back.

Yunho considers the two of you for a moment. He then sighs. "Just as San was dying," Yunho starts. "He was insistent on meeting me. There was no reason to. People who signed the contracts were always given the same terms. But before he died, he wanted a brief discussion with me."

"The room was only lit by a small candle in the corner. I didn't often enter the slums, only for appearances that were required. So seeing the condition of the medical center was shocking in itself. There was nothing I could do, of course. So I entered. He was in the middle of the bed. Despite how sickly he looked, he let out a breath of relief when I entered. I kept my mask on. He asked if I would speak to him alone. I have to admit, I hesitated. The counsel would kill me themselves if they found out. But I told the doctors and nurses to leave the room so that I would speak to him alone. He thanked me for visiting him. Then he cursed my life."

Yunho laughs, "The kid was dying but I never saw someone so lively. After that, he asked for a favor. That he had someone he loved. He was choked up a bit as he spoke. Told me her name was y/n. That he worried for her when he would be gone. He asked me to take care of you, to make sure you were okay. To save you if you were in trouble. I agreed. I mean, I never saw you. Didn't know who you were. So I promised a dying man I'd protect someone I never heard of. And I have to admit, I forgot about it. Until I heard that they were going to kill a woman named y/n for disassembling an android. I looked at your file. Found out you were the woman that man was talking about years ago. Found out about your parents. So I decided to come down to the facility and save your life. I decided that I'll finally keep up my end of the bargain. Then you know the rest."

He leans against the wall, staring at you. "You don't have to become a rebel leader if you don't want to. I'll find someone else. Just because I was dragged into this since I was born doesn't mean I want anyone else to be. It's always been a choice for you. You can say no."

"No."

Yunho grins, "Well then that's settled. Unfortunately though, I can't let this android continue walking about with your dead lover's memories. Going to have to erase those before someone tapes into it, yeah?" He walks to his desk, digging through.

"Wait! His memories, all of them? They'll be gone?"

He nods, then pauses. "Only the old ones. The ones that you've made since the two of you have met will still be intact. He will just never remember anything that Choi San has thought of. An almost blank slate," He grins, looking at him. "Ready?"

He nods. Just as he moves close to Yunho you grab his arm. your heart pounding. San looks down at you, a resigned smile on his lips. "Yunho has promised that I would not leave your side. It's quite alright."

"San–" So many feelings are bubbling inside of you. Most are confused, hurt. "Don't forget me."

His expression softens. "How could I?" He rests his hand on yours, letting your fingers entwine. You moved forward to Yunho’s side. He only laughs, shaking his head. He holds a small device to San's temple, pressing a small button. San's eyes darken, completely black. You see green numbers flash across the surface, before disappearing. As quickly as it appeared it's gone.

"He will be disoriented for a bit. But it'll be quick. No longer than a few minutes and he'll be back to how he was. A strange fucking android," he snorts. "You can stay in the guest rooms for the night. Then be on your merry way in the morning, please. Seonghwa already knows where to go. My offer from before hasn't changed. Just at a different location."

"Seonghwa's here?" You widen your eyes. Hongjoong promised you he’d take care of him, so you doubt that the authorities somehow ransacked his place. It’s been standing too long for the government to intervene that easily. "He's okay?"

"Might not walk again, but he's alright. You should see him with San. His room is across from yours."

You look at San, his expression blank. It reminds you of the first androids. Unable to speak, talk. Though your trust is minimal when it comes to Yunho, you trust San. And he promised that he wouldn't forget you. Your enclosed fingers tell you that much. You node slowly, not bothering to utter a thank you. "The rebellion?"

"I'll live for a while, y/n. I'm sure there's someone out there I can recruit. No need to let your pretty mind worry about it. Now go, really. They'll be in here soon and I have to pretend to give a shit."

You hold San close, guiding him to the door.

"Hey, one more thing," Yunho stops you, glancing at San. "I told you earlier that I did not know love. That I never experienced it for myself. But I could tell he loved you, y/n. Who's love is so strong that his memories made an android find you and bring you to me? An emotion like that is hard to fake." He pauses. "Look, there's not that much good in this world. I know that first hand. But I truly believe he was a good one." He pats San's arm.

"Just like this android you have."

San still hasn’t pulled himself out of whatever Yunho has done to him, blindly guided by you through the hallways. Yunho told you exactly where Seonghwa was and it’s your first stop before leaving this place entirely. Taking Yunho’s offer and staying around a little while longer is the opposite of what you’d like. And making a decision without your friend’s input will only lead to worse circumstances. You turn down a corridor, not bothering to look behind you and see if someone is following. Just as you’re about to open another door, San stops completely. The tug is harsh, almost causing you to fall to the hardwood.

“What the hell, San,” you turn back to look at him. He stares at you, eyes flicking over your face, your body. Anger disappears with a blink, stepping a bit closer to him. “Hey, you alright?”

“I haven’t forgotten you, y/n.” Your smile is small, but he notices it. “I promised I wouldn’t forget you.”

“I’m happy you didn’t. Let’s go see Seonghwa now, yeah?”

“Wait just a moment, y/n,” his hold is tighter. He glances at the door, turning on his heel and pushing open the one just across the hall. He shuts it rather loudly, chest rising and falling quickly.

“Are you sure everything is okay?”

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, shaking his head. “Not quite.”

“Did he erase anything? Do we need to go back-”

He continues shaking his head, “No, no. That isn’t it. y/n, I believe this is the right time to tell you before we continue further.” He takes a long breath, swallowing slowly before meeting your eyes.

“Choi San loved you,” San starts. For the first time since you’ve met him he looks utterly confused. Each word that falls from his lips overlaps, hands trembling. “My fondness for you from the very beginning was contrived because of his care for you. I ignored the feelings because it is his, not mine. But when my memories were removed, erased, this… weight in my chest has not gone away. I thought something was wrong, perhaps my processes have been compromised. But you turned to me and smiled. At that moment, I remembered. That this is what it feels like to love someone. But I cannot have emotions like humans. I cannot feel how you feel. And yet I cannot come up with any other solution. Even as I say these words I cannot look at you because I am afraid. I am afraid that you will hate me. y/n, I have never been afraid of anything since I was created.” He tightens his hands into fists, closing his eyes. “The thought of losing you, not seeing you again. I do not have the engineering capabilities to breathe because it is not needed, so it is strange that it would feel as if my breath is gone.”

“Love is not a choice, you have taught me that since our journey. And despite how all-consuming this feeling is, I’d never want it to escape me. I would like to love you for a long time.”

You take a step forward, placing your hands on either side of his face. His eyelashes flutter, gaze immediately on yours. You can see the irises expand as they meet yours, the almost humming sound as his gears move. He feels warm. His skin feels unfamiliar despite the face you’ve loved for a long time being on his. It is funny, now that you think of it. Because even if he didn’t look like your San, if he was completely and utterly different, you’re sure this feeling wouldn’t go away. Because you don’t love him like you love San. Loving Choi San was simple, easy. It was comforting, calming. You’re sure you’ll love him until your last breath.

But loving this android, Choi San. It is scary, to say the least. He’s not human, and he will never be. He does not quite understand emotions, love. He’s made plenty of mistakes along the way. Hurt you in ways you cannot describe just by being. The love that you have for him is raw. New. It is a love that you’ve wanted for a long time without even knowing.

“I would like for you to love me for a long time,” you say aloud. Your thumb runs across the sculptured curve of his face, softer than you’d think. “I tried to pretend I didn’t want it. I ignored it because I was afraid of your love. It is innocent, new. I’m scared of sullying you. I don’t want you to think I love you because of the familiarity, because I did really hate you in the beginning. I hated that you’ve stolen his face. So it’s so silly now, looking at you.” Your lip quivers, teeth creating a light indent in your lips. “I want you to know that I love you. Despite pushing the feelings away, despite hiding them, I love you. And I’m so happy that you love me too. But you have to know.”

“I miss him. I miss him so, so much. I don’t know if I can look at you and never not see him. And that really scares me, San. I don’t want you to think you’re replacing him when you’re not. I don’t want you to think that. But what if one day, all of this goes away? What if one day while we’re together, I tell you that I’ve never loved you? That I’m still in love with San? I don’t want to hurt you. I,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how you hurt, and I’m so worried about it. I’ve destroyed myself enough over grief. I can’t let it destroy you too.”

He smiles, his hand slowly cupping your cheek, holding your face steady. You almost flinch at the soft touch, for you have not felt such a tender way of loving since he’s passed. It is strange how love makes you feel as if his hand always belonged against your skin. “If I truly feel grief, that just means that I did love you. And it will hurt if someday you tell me those words. And I will mourn us. But you make me… warm. Tender. I will not beg for you to stay. As I have said in the past, I trust you. And I trust your words. I hope you will trust mine.”

“This is foolish,” you whisper. He laughs. It is not like your San’s. It is his own. It will always be his own.

“Then aren’t we a pair of fools?”

You go to push him playfully but he wraps the swinging arm around his neck instead, tilting his head to let your lips press against his. They’re tentative, sloppy. Hands shaking as he holds your face delicately, tongue tracing your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper just as your lips part, leaning into his touch more. He gasps against your mouth, his hands sliding down your back. They’re hesitant, resting just above your hips. You move your arms away from his neck, guiding his hands to rest directly on you. His grip is light, as if he’s afraid of hurting you. It only makes your heart swell more. “I love you,” you repeat softly. You move your hands away from them, and without hesitation, he presses you against the wall just by the door. His hands roam over your body, anxiously and frantic, wanting to touch every part of you.

He breathes heavily, teeth biting lightly on your bottom lip. “I’ve wanted you for a while,” he admits, fingers sliding underneath your shirt. They’re warm against your skin, seeming to heat up the more skin he unveils. “Did you want me too?”

“More than you know,” you whisper against his lips, and he shivers. His hands move off your body, forehead resting lightly on yours. “Okay?”

“I… I don’t want you to think that I confessed only for me to make love to you, y/n. That is not what I want, I swear that to you.”

You rest your head against the wall, waiting until he meets your eyes. He finally does, face flushed. Your hand cups his cheek, “I know that. I don’t want to push you into anything, San. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“You will wait for me?” His eyes dilate. “How long will you wait?”

You let out a laugh, “I can live without sex, San. I love you and that’s all I need. Now that is what I swear to you.”

San leans forward, hesitating. He keeps his eyes open as he moves closer. You’ve never seen an android nervous, but here he is. He closes his eyes, a moan escaping his lips once they touch yours. His hands move from resting against the wall to pull you closer to him, his rushed kissing more hesitant now, calmer. His hands slowly roam over your body, “Can I see you?”

“Yes,” you murmur. His fingers slowly lift your top, placing it on the side.

“I love you,” he says again, fingers tracing each mark on your skin, most you’ve gotten from injuries working at the facilities. There’s no malice or disgust in his eyes, pupils filled with happiness. “I really like you.”

You can’t help but giggle along with him. Wonder fills his gaze as he stares at you. You yelp when he lifts you with ease, guiding you to the bed across the room. He drops you against the sheets, hovering above you. His hands follow the line of your body, stopping at the top of your pants. Somewhere along the way you’ve slipped off your shoes, San still covered completely in his clothing. He pauses, eyes studying yours. You nod, watching as his fingers slip beneath the waistband.

“My programs are still intact,” he murmurs, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the skin beneath your belly button. “But many are suggesting I make love to you with vigor, fast. I can see for you that’s not the case,” he rests his head against your thigh, content filling his gaze. “You seem to react to my slower touches well.” He pulls your pants all the way down now, moving his head out of the way to drop them to the floor. Your thighs tighten, his gaze immediately moving to yours. “Hm?” His fingers pause. “Is this okay?”

“It’s okay, San. I want to see you.”

“I want to see you first,” he pouts, tilting his head. “Please?”

“…Okay.”

He pulls your underwear to the side, lids heavy. His fingers slip into you with ease, your hands gripping the sheets below you. He moves them slowly, curving them slightly as he watches your expression, a small smile crossing his lips when you moan. They move slowly but steady, his pace almost lazy. Your body trembles as you try to focus on him, but he rubs his thumb against your clit, sight blurring.

“San--”

“You’re so pretty, y/n. You look so pretty with my fingers inside of you.” he s smiles against your tights, pressing a light kiss to the skin. “Would you like me to stop?”

“No… I’m,” you reach for his hand but he stops it with the other, thumb against your clit quickening, fingers curling inside of you as he pumps, quickening his pace. The sound of your wetness echoes around the room as you moan low, moving your hips in rhythm with his strokes. “San…”

“I know,” he whispers. “Let go.” He rubs your clit earnestly, palm rubbing against it now. You gasp, your hips buckling as you grip his arm, fingers digging into his skin harshly. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you when you whine.

Without another word he moves off the bed, lifting his clothing and tossing it off the side of the bed. His figure is built, cock slipping from beneath his pants, curved as it rests against his lower stomach. It isn’t too big by any means, until he slowly begins to stroke it, hand wrapped around, thumb slowly rubbing his head. Your eyes widen as it grows larger, thicker. San wasn’t wrong when he told you the functions of the androids.

“How big?” he asks, eyes glued to yours. “How big do you want me?”

“Hm?” You stare at him in confusion, and he laughs. It’s the first cocky one you’ve heard from him – no pun intended – head tilting as he looks at you. How… big? He could change the size? Technology is definitely more advanced than you give it credit for. “Average?”

He thinks for a moment. It adjusts in his hands, toning down back to an average length and girth. You can only sigh in relief, leaning back against the sheets. The way it was going earlier, you were sure not even half of it would fit inside of you. You tremble at the mere thought.

He slowly crawls over you, the head of his cock resting at your entrance. He slowly slides it up at down, brushing lightly against your clit. It feels warm resting just before he enters you. “I love you,” he whispers again, slowly pushing inside of you. You reach out to grip his biceps as he enters, grip tight enough that if he weren’t him, you’d be afraid that you’re breaking skin. He breathes in and out quickly as he restrains himself from entering more, slowly moving out.

“My…” you’re unable to finish your sentence, “You can go all the way in, San,” you whisper. His eyes scan yours, before shaking his head. His hips slowly pick up a steady pace, the bed rocking against the wall as he groans.

“My capabilities aren’t tested properly, I’m afraid something will…” he sighs, resting his head against yours. “I want to be confirmed as safe before entering further, y/n,” he presses his lips against yours for a brief kiss. He rests his knees on either side of your legs as he grips your side, moans echoing around the room. He moves slowly, his strokes deep. His free hand encases your hip, trying his best to control his strength as he grinds into you. You’re squeezing his arms, thankful that there won’t be any residual markings.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “You feel so good, so good around me. Made just for me.” His hand slides between your bodies, rubbing against your clit. “I want you to cum,” he groans. Your legs wrap around him, breath hitches as you tighten around him, hitting your peak.

“Oh,” he murmurs. You feel him release inside of you, shuddering slightly as you tighten your hold around his cock. He settles after a minute or so, the glow of cumming slowly surrounding the two of you. Still inside of you, he guides you to your side, pressing his lips against your temple.

“I love you,” he says again, blinking slowly.

“I love you,” you say again, laughing as he pulls you closer against him. He’s not sweaty at all in comparison to you, not bothered at the contact with his body. “San, I’m all gross–”

“Impossible.”

“San,” you tug lightly on his hold, and he pulls away enough for you to meet his gaze. “What are we going to do?”

There’s challenges with a relationship like yours. Your past is one thing, the blatantly obvious problem. But there’s so many others, so many obstacles for you to be happy with him. Endless issues that only seem to stack up as you think of it more and more. But San only presses his lips against your forehead, calming your heart with just that brief touch.

“I will be with you until the end.”

bonus:

Seonghwa, rolling in on his wheelchair: Oh you fucked before making sure I’m alive? And you let the robot? A robot!

y/n: I can see that you’re fine and well, asshole.

Seonghwa: And what do you have to say for yourself, defective droid?

San, with a quite smug look on his face: You’re the one without a partner.

Seonghwa, gasping: Oh fuck you you little—

tags: @sanshineeeeee @robin-obsessed @seonghwaddict @stopeatread @eburneon @sunukissed @lightinythedark @enbywoosan @moonsangie @xxxfaithkxxx @sannwa @sleepychimm @spooo00oky @roodles17 @marsanhwa @onlyheretocausechaos @stardragongalaxy @kitten4sannie @baguette-atiny @a1sh1teruu

#fic: csan #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez fic #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez fluff

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potatocitytechnology · 2 years

Text

Desperate - J.JH

INTRO: Days got lonely for you working your plain old 9-5 job and all your colleagues found it hilarious that you hadn't gotten laid in forever. You were only joking when you said you would pay someone to sleep with you at this point...

GENRES: Smut

WARNINGS: Profanity/swearing, oral (F receiving), chocking/breath play, nipple play (receiving and giving), humiliation (giving), slight degradation along with that, Jaehyun seems to have a slight pain kink, dom!femreader, unlikely sub!Jaehyun, overall explicit content - DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THIS POST IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE, PLEASE!

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

AUTHORS NOTE: This turned out a little more hard core than I would've thought it was going to, but still pretty mild. A good fun one to read even if you don't enjoy femdom :)

Jaehyun wasn’t a sex worker and he certainly wasn’t a sub. He was just desperate for money. You knew this when he called you up and introduced himself saying he had heard from a friend of a friend that you were willing to pay a decent sum of money for a man to let you dom them for a night. If you were being honest you were kind of joking when you said it to your friend and everyone knew you definitely didn’t need to pay someone to sleep with you, but after hearing the desperation in his voice you couldn’t turn down the stranger at the end of the line. Not when he had clearly put himself out of his comfort zone to get your number and ring you. You just knew that your friends would be teasing you about this when you told them you’d actually followed through with it. Doming men was always a sort of fantasy you would put on the backburner whenever you slept around. Sometimes it would come out but more often than not it was just left to your imagination, so hence how the discussion came about.

Over the phone you had made it clear that this would be a one time occurrence, as you were sure that you were breaking some sort of law as it was. Luckily he complied with that, pointing out that was his intention also and he prepared with his own term. No one, under any circumstances, is to find out. You couldn’t agree more. You didn’t need people other than your close friends finding out that you paid someone to sleep with you. Infact, it was bad enough having your small circle of colleagues knowing at all. The two of you agreed on a time and date and it was set.

When 7pm Saturday comes around you find yourself anxiously sitting on your couch playing with your fingers and picking at your nails. It was dark out already and it was risky meeting a total stranger for the first time at your own house, you knew that. But you weren’t exactly made of money either, so buying a hotel room that you’d probably only spend an hour or two in if you were lucky seemed like a total waste. You just hoped that he wasn’t actually intent on murdering you then robbing the place.

That thought does nothing to ease your worrying mind, so when the doorbell rings you visibly jump before standing up and flattening the creases out of your dress, trying your best to compose yourself. You begin to make your way to the door to meet the mysterious man who is waiting for you and that’s when it hits. This was a really bad idea. You freeze with your hand on the door handle. ‘Don’t be stupid.” You say to yourself.

You take a deep breath then close your eyes for a second before opening the door. What you immediately notice as the door separating you two leaves, is a hand about to hit you in the face and your eyes widen in shock. A short gasp escapes your lips and you take a step back in alarm. The hand in front of you immediately retracts and that’s when you see the man in front of you. Jaehyun, or at least that’s the name he told you. He must’ve been readying to knock again, you thought to yourself and internally shook your head at your antics. He was tall with black bangs that framed his face. Raking your eyes down his figure you notice that under his rather loose fitting clothes that he has a toned looking figure. When your eyes raise to catch his, you see the hesitancy that glaze through them. He stands slightly tense in front of you and by the soft and slightly worried look on his face you realise that this man couldn’t possibly murder you (but if he was going to he was a damn good actor).

Silence hangs in the air for what only feels like second but must’ve been a minute or two before Jaehyun shifts to lean on one leg. He reaches a hand out, this time gesturing for a handshake. “Hi, I’m-”

“Jaehyun.” You finish his sentence in a breathy whisper before smiling sheepishly.

He lets out a chuckle nodding his head. “And you must be-”

“Y/N” Inside you cringe. Interrupting people was a rude habit you had to get rid of as it constantly bugged those around you, but Jaehyun just laughs lowly, nodding again.

It stays quiet for a moment longer before you seemingly shake out of a trance, “Oh, please come in.” You step further into the doorway to allow him through and when he passes with a curt bow of his head and a small smile and you feel your heart melt. This guy had to be someone's boyfriend because there is no way he’s single with manners like this and those adorable dimples. If he’s not a murderer he has to be a cheater.

You lead him into your living room and gesture for him to sit on the couch. “Would you like something to drink?” You ask, eyes watching him closely as he sits down and observes the room. His own eyes darted to your face, “A water would be fine thanks.” You nod politely before ducking away to the kitchen. When you’re out of sight you let out a breath of relief. This is so awkward, the air around him feels like it’s sucking the life out of you. You try to come up with things to talk about and ways to bring up the current situation without making it even more awkward as you fill up two empty glasses and walk back out to the living room.

Placing the drinks on the coffee table you proceed to sit across from him in another chair and thank the gods that you actually have enough furniture in your house which means you don’t have to sit right beside him. He picks up a glass and takes a nervous sip while his eyes fly around to anything in the room that isn’t you.

You clear your throat, forcing a wave of courage to wash over your features but it doesn’t shake the wobble in your hands or the slight tremble in your voice. “So, Jaehyun, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

“Oh,” The question shocks him, you can tell by the way his eyebrows raise, “well I like to read.” You shift in your seat, trying your best to look more comfortable so that he will in turn, loosen up a bit. “So authors like Mark Twain, Charles Dickens?” You offer up a couple of authors that your male colleagues enjoy but he only shakes his head with a small smile at your suggestion. “No, actually. Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf and Shakespear if I’m in the mood.” It’s your turn to be surprised, an astounded “Really?” escaping past your lips and he nods with a half amused, half fake offence look. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t take you for a fairytale, feminist romantic.”

He smiles again, this time showing his pretty dimples in all their glory and you can’t help but reciprocate the expression. “If you don’t mind me stating,” he starts and you try to keep an inviting look on your face as he attempts to keep his gaze locked on yours, “you don’t seem like the domineering type, if I’m being honest.” You feel a slight blush rise to your cheeks at his proclamation but pull yourself together with only a slight shake of your pupils being the give away at your uncertainty. “No?” You question, letting a humorous tint lace your voice as you said the word - raising a brow. He shifts becoming obviously uncomfy but you just watch him amusedly. “Well, I was expecting-”

“A dominatrix?” You finish his sentence again and almost scold yourself aloud for interrupting, however taking note of the way his ears start to flush a deep pink at the very word.

“I suppose.” He admits, attempting to sit up straight and seem less small. Jaehyun had never felt like he wasn’t ever in control of a situation before and it showed. He was probably more nervous about handing over the reins rather than the rest of what was at hand as well.

“Jaehyun, I’m not a seasoned pro at this. I simply want to experiment a little, but if you don’t feel entirely comfortable with this, then I’m not gonna judge you if you want to walk out right now.” You explain to him trying to seem as unthreatening as possible. His features harden as his lips set into a straight line. “I have to do this, I’m a bit tight for cash at the moment as you know.” He says and you visibly cringe. This is so illegal.

He sees your change in character and immediately stands to his feet to reassure you, “Oh, gosh I don’t want you to think you’re taking advantage of me or anything. This is completely consensual.” You begin to nervously play with your fingers once again as you let out a whisper, “Jaehyun, I’m paying you to have sex with me.”.

He comes to your side suddenly and you become aware of the pleasant scent that follows him. “Just think of it as a favour, friend to friend.” He tries to convince as he kneels next to you on the ground. You look down at him, “Jaehyun this isn’t vanilla sex.” He cocks his head to the side in fake thought, “I know that. What if I told you I was kind of excited.” He nods sheepishly, letting his head fall to look at the ground where your feet lay.

You look at the back of his head before he raises his eyes to look at you with a slight blush on his cheeks. “Just be patient. I haven't done this fully before.” You say and he smiles lightly, “I haven’t done this ever, so we’re in the same boat.” He replies and you suck in a breath. Maybe we are in the same boat, but let’s just hope we don’t get hit by a tidal wave.

You let out the breath and reach a hand down to his chin. Your fingers grasp his jaw as you lower your face to his, ”If I’m gonna go to jail for you then you better make it worth my while.” You don’t get to see his expression before you bring your lips to his softly. The kiss is hesitant as you both get used to the feeling of each other's lips together. His hand reaches towards you to hold your face closer as he opens his mouth. When you nip at his lip he flinches before letting a grunt into the kiss, his grip on you tightening as his other hand rests on your knee. You pull away and take amusement in the way he looks up at you with parted lips.

“What’re your limits?” You mumble centimetres from his mouth and it takes him a minute to register your words. “Sorry?” Is his reply as he finally releases his gaze on your lips to meet your eyes. You shake your head in a show of fake disappointment before gently grasping his chin again. He expects you to lean down and kiss him, but you quickly drop your head to his cheek where the hot air of your breath fans against his ear lobe. It sends a hot chill down Jaehyun’s spine at the feeling, and he has to suppress his desired need to just grab you and force your mouth on his.

“How far can I push you until you break, hmm?” You change your wording, putting slight emphasis between each word and you swore you could feel the heat pour off him in sensual waves, a barely audible gulp making your ears perk up. “Anything. You can do anything, just ask first if it’s extreme.”

You hum in approval, allowing a slight grin to appear on your face as you stand up and gesture for him to do so as well. It takes him a moment efore he scrambles to his feet in what seems to be embarrassment if the red tinge that covers his features again is any indication. “We should go to my bedroom.” You mean to suggest, however it comes out as more of a statement. He nods and you then lead the way, taking note of the way he silently moves behind you as you wander through your hallway.

When you reach the bedroom you open the door for him to step inside. As he does you come in behind him and shut the door quietly. “Sit on the bed,” You say before adding a “please” at the end of the sentence out of habit. You hear him as he takes a seat on your bed whilst you start to search through one of your draws. When you find the item you’re looking for you turn to see him already staring at you, so you smile reassuringly.

You move over to him and his sitting position gives you a height advantage and you realise that it oddly sends a thrill through you. Even having such a little switch in the usual power dynamic has you excited already. You run the fabric of the blindfold through your fingers so that Jaehyun can see what it is clearly. “Do you have a safeword?” You can tell this question amuses him as a flash of humour passes through the light of his eyes but it leaves just as quickly as he remembers his reason for being here. “Do I have to have one?” He rebuts and you press your lips into a thin line. “I would prefer it if you did.” You reply and as he senses your slight disapproval at his question he mutters the word “Valentine” under his breath.

You quirk a brow confirming ‘valentine’ as his safe word to which he nods and you breathe out an almost exasperated ‘ok’. “If you’re slightly uncomfortable though, you have to tell me. Say orange or slow down or something.” You say to which he replies with a firm but quiet ‘yes’. You then start to bring the blindfold up to his eyes before tying it firmly around the back of his head. As you do, you can’t help but to run your fingers through his hair. The soft strands tug gently at his scalp and have Jaehyun shivering at the sensation of the action. With his sight obstructed everything you do, everywhere you touch or even when you move, has him sensing things at a heightened level.

You move away from him and take amusement in the way he rigidly sits, awaiting for you to do something. You have to admit the blindfold was a great idea, and you hoped that Jaehyun thought so too. You thought it might cut out some of the awkwardness and be a good way to start things off if you couldn’t necessarily see each other. With him waiting, you start to undress yourself. Bringing the fabric of your dress over your head to drop it on the floor. Jaehyun hears as it hits the ground and he subtly sucks in a breath at the action.

You proceed to unclip your bra and slide out of your panties as well, leaving you completely naked in front of him. Jaehyun wouldn’t ever admit it but it was killing him just knowing you were standing only an arms reach away, completely bare, and he couldn’t see or touch you.

You can tell it surprises him when you climb onto the bed, however you’re away at the other end, leaning on the headboard watching his back as his head turns over his shoulder in your direction. You breathe out a quiet, shaky breath but can’t help the excitement that builds inside of you. All of your skin is exposed and the slight chill mixed with this exhilaration in the air causes your nipples to prick up and goosebumps to appear on your skin.

“Jaehyun,” You call his name and he lets out a hum at your voice. “Take off your clothes.” Your order has him gulping before standing up and trying to discard his clothing as best he can whilst having no vision at all. It’s clumsy the way he does it as you watch and he almost trips over several times pulling his legs from his sweatpants. He catches the way you chuckle slightly at his struggle and it causes a flash of humiliation to pass through him.

Nevertheless, he feels his body erupt in tingles and the familiar feeling of becoming hard causes his head to spin at the revolution that this might be something he was into.

You definitely notice the way he seems to throb at the sound so when he is left in nothing but his underwear you tilt your head to the side, forgetting he can’t actually see you. “What about those?” You question with a hint of judgement lacing your tone and you watch carefully as he slowly grips the band with his fingertips before pulling his last garment of clothing down.

You aren’t completely shocked by his body. You did make a mental comment on how you thought he was hiding his toned form under less than flattering clothes, I mean after all he didn’t come here with the purpose of impressing you. However, as your gaze travels down his body you can’t help but to admire his athleticism, but what surprises you the most is his hard, leaking cock that stands tall under your gaze. At least you know he’s enjoying himself.

“You’re so pretty, Jaehyun.” You muse and appreciate the way he shivers at the compliment. He clasps his hands in front of him, obstructing your view and you smirk in response. “Come here.” The order is short but he reacts right away, trying to feel for you on the bed. His head shoots up at your following command, “Crawl.”. You watch in diversion as he ponders the thought before he crawls onto the foot of your bed, proceeding slowly up to you.

When he places his hand on your out-stretched foot, instead of retracting it shyly like you thought he would, he wraps his fingers around your ankle before following your leg up your body. The action surprises you and you can only sit stunned as he continues to crawl up between your legs, his hand stopping at your hip bone as the other once again rests on your cheek. He brings your mouth to his, connecting your lips in a kiss that feels much less cautious than the first and more full of desire. His lips are passionate on yours, the taste of lust seeping into your mouth from his. It’s not quite a whole mess but the sounds that tumble from your mouth into his make him hold your head on an angle that has his tongue angled deeper into you.

You break the kiss with a push to his chest and instead of sitting back like you hoped he would, he begins to press firm kisses to your neck and collarbone. You find your hands in his hair, toying with the strands as puffs of air escape your lips before you realise what was supposed to be happening here. “Sit back.” You demand and he hums against your skin, yet doesn’t let up. Your fingers that are in his hair grip at his roots lightly before you use this grasp to pull his head from you. The groan he lets out as his head falls against your hand is pornographic and the sound sends shoots of arousal straight to your core.

“You have to listen to me, Jaehyun. After all, you are being paid.” Your comment makes his cheeks redden in embarrassment but nonetheless, you marvel in the way his cock twitches. You tug his hair back further causing an arch to form in his back as he leans his chest into you. A chuckle passees through your lips before you lick over his right nipple, causing him to suck in a breath. “I’m paying you to do this because you asked me to. But you seem to enjoy it more than you let on, don’t you?” When no sound is heard from him you take the sensitive bud into your mouth, delivering a sharp pinch of a bite.

“What was that?” You question, this time hoping for an answer. His hands grab at the sheets below as he lets out a grunt followed by a very quick, “Yes.”.

Satisfied with his answer you release his hair. “Go sit at the foot of the bed.” Your order is simple and your tone leaves no room for argument as you watch the slightly desperate look on Jaehyun’s face turn to an annoyed one. You can tell he wants to rebut but you lightly slap his thigh in warning, “You don’t get to pick and choose what you get here tonight, Jaehyun.” That’s all it takes for him to tighten his lips before he makes his way to the edge of the bed, with his hands stretched out to find his way.

While you keep an eye on him, you reach over to your left bedside table and pull out your trusty toy. It might seem pointless to have this man all to yourself and still want to use a vibrator but if you played your cards right, you could have Jaehyun keening in your lap for your attention. It would beat this cool and calm exterior he tries to hide his emotions in anyway.

The toy you pulled out is a wand vibrator. Enough to push you along and enough to get Jaehyun wound up but sadly not enough to satisfy you tonight. As you switch on the toy, you watch as the man a foot away from your feet slowly swivels his head around, trying to discern where the light buzzing noise is coming from. It humours you when you see the expression on his face change when he figures out what it has to be.

“Are you kidding me?” His question lacks intrigue and you notice a hint of disappointment in his tone that makes you smile. “What’s wrong, baby.” You ask, a slight mocking tone to your voice and when he doesn't answer you bring the vibrating head of the toy to your clit. You let out a sigh of content and a barely audible moan, that you can tell affects him as he gulps before running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“What am I here for if you just want to do it like this?” His voice is firm, like he wants an easy answer from you but you only lightly laugh. He looks flushed as his hands fiddle in his lap to not touch anything he shouldn’t, and the amusement you seem to gain from his overall hopeless state only makes his cock throb painfully.

“Who’s not to say that I didn’t just want you to watch?” You say and you can almost feel the twinkle in your eyes when you moan out loud and Jaehyun clenches his jaw whilst choosing to ball his fists in his lap. “That would be cruel, and I can’t even see.” Is his response.

“It’s not cruel when you’re being paid generously to just listen. And I’ll let you see soon, maybe.” Your lips curl up when he grunts lowly in response, his pink tinged skin now a permanent feature on his pale complexion.

Choosing now to let him wallow in his own self pity, you focus on the toy in your hand and start to move it against your sensitive bud with purpose. The whimpers and soft moans that leave your mouth are like a siren song to Jaehyun’s ears, your body calling him yet he’s stuck in place by your authority over him. If this was under any other circumstances, Jaehyun can name all the things he would do to you right now. You teasing him like this was just down right humiliating, Jaehyun was a man notorious for being in control with women. If he didn’t need the money so badly he would be ripping this blindfold off and fucking you into your bed so hard that you would forget your own name. But he wasn’t in charge, you were. So he has to sit still and take what you give him, even if it means listening to you get off on a toy while he was sitting right here eager to do anything for you.

You call his name as you pleasure yourself but even you become frustrated with how close you’re getting just to sit on the edge of bliss. You turn the vibrator off and place it to the side before running your fingers through your folds. With your legs spread in front of him, if Jaehyun were to take off his blindfold right at this second he would see how impossibly wet you are. But you’re betting he can hear it by the way he licks his lips and the soft groan that escapes him as you stroke yourself.

“What do you want from me?” He asks, with a desperation in his voice that you hadn’t heard thus far, “What do I have to do for you to use me instead?” His pleading tone makes your core clench, he’s practically begging. Which you could tell was a very rare occurrence from him.

You sit up slightly so that you can see him better. His brows are knit together and his entire body is flushed a light tinge of pink. What catches your eyes though is the sight of his angry red cock, pulsing with need. “What do you want?” You ask, your eyes glancing back to his face to see his eyebrows raise and a look of excitement flashes across his features.

“Would you let me taste you?” He asks softly but with an edge of confidence as your own eyes raise at his assertive tone. The smirk that crosses your features indicates your mischievousness as you rebut, “How bad do you want to?” Your question doesn’t seem to throw him off like you thought it would, with only a light display of embarrassment becoming present on his face as he replies, “So bad.”

You make him wait for a minute and the silence hanging in the air makes him think you’ll say no but you spread your legs wider and mumble out, “Go on then.” That’s all it takes for him to practically jump up, however he doesn't come up the bed to you. He instead searches for your foot before tugging you down to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees when he thinks he has you placed where he wants. His soft hands run up from your knees to your thighs as he leans into your core, taking in your scent. You hear a short “fuck” escape from his lips and Jaehyun only wishes that he could see your pretty pussy. He almost has you jumping from his grip when his warm tongue makes experimental touches against your inner thighs, so close to where you want him. “Jaehyun.” The tone in your voice is once again warning, willing him to cut out the teasing and get on with it.

He hums against you and gives you no warning when he suddenly parts your lips with the pads of his thumbs and presses his tongue into your heat. Your hands immediately fly to his head pushing him closer as your thighs enclose around his head. Drawn out moans fight their way from your chest into the air as you feel his hot tongue dart inside your dripping hole over and over again. Pulling back from you, you watch the look of concentration on his face as he tries to go at it blindly and you admire the sight of the dark fabric of the blindfold against his pale skin.

You however get no more than a second of this before he is dipping back in, eager to show you that you should’ve used him from the start. He directs his attention to your clit and uses his thumb and index finger to squeeze it together lightly between the two, before he uses his tongue to poke at it in fast strokes. A series of curses and whines leave your mouth in a hurry, the feeling of his technique nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. While you are distracted one of his fingers begins to probe at your entrance and you don’t notice until he pushes it into you slowly. Your back arches and you once again grip his hair to hold him close as he pumps the digit inside of your heat. Making up your mind, you decide to pull the blindfold from his head, tossing it elsewhere in the room.

Jaehyun’s eyes adjust quickly to the light of the space and he is immediately grateful to you for not only taking off the blindfold but also for having such a pretty pussy like he had hoped. Your wetness drips down from the finger that’s inside you to pool around his knuckles, and before you can breathe he’s ducking back down to latch his lips around your clit. He adds another finger to your hole carefully and begins to suck harshly on your bundle of nerves, his obvious motivation right now to see you come apart in front of him.

Your grip on his hair is tight and only makes him groan into your core when your fingernails graze his scalp. The vibration sent through you in turn has your core beginning to clench as the pressure of pleasure builds within you.

Jaehyun senses your state by your rigid muscles and the raise in pitch of your moans, and works to double his efforts. His fingers draw in and out of your heat at a rapid pace and his mouth suctioning on your clit with his tongue occasionally poking through to prod at it has you seeing stars behind your lids. You cum faster than you ever have when a guy’s gone down on you. The overwhelming pleasure that consumes you as you gush out onto his awaiting tongue has your body twitching while he lets your hips ride against his face.

When you finally slump back down onto the bed, your muscles are spent and your pussy is still clenching from the power of the orgasm. Jaehyun’s fluffy hair tickles at your thighs as he brings his head back up, a primal look in his eyes as a smile graces his lips. Your mouth twitches into a similar state as you raise a brow, “Why do you look so happy?”

He shrugs in response before sitting up on his knees, “I bet you wish you let me do that sooner.” His smug expression has your eyes narrowing, a playful hint passing through them. “Why don’t you come sit up here Jaehyun, get up off the floor.” You say indicating for him to lay in the space to your left.

He stands up to his full height and you begin to remember how good it feels to order around a man who could easily overpower you. It’s even better when you realise that they don’t want to. The bed dips as he lays down beside you and you turn on your side to face him, your faces millimetres from one anothers.

His eyes hold scepticism as you run your fingertips over his chest, tracing special patterns around his nipples. You feel him shiver under your touch as you do so. Quickly and before he can react you flick his right nipple causing a low hiss to escape his parted lips. “What a sensitive little thing you are, Jaehyun.” You muse, once again a touch of mockery slipping into the speculation.

Your eyes catch his as a breath escapes him. Maintaining his gaze, you slowly lower your mouth to his chest where you let a dribble of spit slip past your lips before it falls directly onto the flicked nipple. He sharply inhales and you find yourself tingling at the effect you have on him. You do the same to his other nipple before you blow on both of them. Exchanging from the right to the left.

The harsh temperature change on his sensitive buds has his lids half closing and short pants escaping him before drawing your attention down to his leaking cock. You hum lighlty as you resume flicking his nippples slowly, watching for any signs of actual pain but you only see pleasure enveloping his features as a drawn out breath turns into a whine. Again the easily flustered man immediately tries to catch the sound in his throat, but it’s too late.

Your eyes zero in on the way he tosses his head to the side in embarrassment and you take this opportunity to lean up and press hard marks to the soft skin of his throat. You surprise him with a pinch to the nipples as you do so, and his hands immediately fly to your waist attempting to pull you on top of him. You pull back and tut, a borderline condescending look on your face as his eyes plead with you to stop teasing and give him what he wants.

You trail a hand up his thigh tauntingly before stopping just beside his cock. The head pulses almost violently and you wonder if this is what it must feel like for him to have ‘blue balls’. Jaehyun thinks the exact same thing.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” You question almost sadistically as your fingers dance around where he wants you most. He begins to squirm under your touch and he nods his head. You pretend to ponder the thought, “I think you should ask.” you say in amusement as his head shakes.

“Touch me.” The demand leaves you slightly stunned but a smirk makes its way to your lips. You grasp his cock suddenly, the tight, dry friction on his sensitive dick having him all but yelp in pain whilst his hips thrust into your grip in contradiction. You lean forward slightly, your smile a sheet hiding your teeth that you display threateningly, “Ask nicely.”

HIs body heaves in need and the slight pain of your grip and your show of aggressive dominance causes a shameful moan to grace the air. “Please. Touch me.” He rushes out in an attempt to mask the sound. You sit back on your heels, a satisfied smile replacing the sadistic one. “Good boy. You’ll find doing what I say works in your favour.” You pretend to not notice the way his thighs tremble at the pet name, instead choosing to spare him of the added embarrassment.

You place yourself in between his legs and lean down, but before you can get too close to his leaking member, a hand finds its way into your hair. “No.” You all but growl and the pressure is immediately gone, almost making you wonder if you had imagined it. But as you look up to him from your position the way he turns his head to the side and gulps shows you you hadn’t.

You choose to let it slide, figuring it was a habit and it would be mean to punish him for it straight away. However as you once again lean closer to his cock his hand is back, this time tangling in your hair. Your sharp eyes puncture him before your words can as you lean over him, your body pressed firmly against his. “For fucks sake Jaehyun, can your stupid little horny brain not comprehend that no means no.” His wide eyed response almost makes you think that your outburst was too much for him but when he swallows a deep groan and thrusts emptily into your thigh, you know. This little shit is getting off to this more than you thought.

You grab his wrists so tightly you swear your nails leave imprints on him and another moan tumbles from his lips. You breathe harshly, almost annoyed he’s becoming more and more turned on as you become increasingly tired of his antics. You thrust his arms forward above his head causing your boobs to bounce and land an inch or two from his face. His barely open eyes snap to your exposed nipples as he arches himself from the bed, lifting his face to your chest and in turn, causing friction to occur between your tightly pressed bodies.

His thigh between your legs rubs at your clit deliciously and your eyes all but roll back as his mouth connects with your hardened bud. With your weight still pressing his wrists out of reach he is rendered almost useless and a shot of arousal shoots through your core. You slowly start to grind your pussy against his bare thigh and the sensation has a short gasp pulled from your throat. Jaehyun moans against your nipple as his teeth lightly scrape over the sensitive skin. He tenses his thigh as he switches his attention to the other breast, popping the last from his mouth.

You continue to rock against him, completely aware of how your own thigh pushes against his balls and lower shaft, causing him slight relief along with an appreciated ting of pain. He seems to mostly get off to how you use him though. The way you tend to lose yourself in the feeling, almost completely forgetting he was there and only focusing on your own pleasure has his mind foggy. “You just let me use you, don't you.” You chuckle, a borderlining scary glint passing through your eyes but it only makes him want for you more.

You release his wrists from your grip in favour of placing them either side of his head as you sit yourself up in a more comfortable position and the movement has your chest leaving his reach. So you can continue rocking your cunt against his toned thigh but also be close enough to his face for what you wanted to try. You raise your right hand slowly up to his neck before wrapping your fingers loosely around the column of his throat. His eyes immediately close and a light hum of appreciation that exits you turns to an elicit moan as he moves his thigh in a way that has your clit being pressed against it in just the right way.

With this, your fingers tighten slightly and you feel as his hands twitch above his head where you left them. You lower your head so that your lips hover above his, “Good boy, just lightly. It feels good.” He gasps as you choose this moment to slip his pulsing head into your entrance. A slight rotation of your hips is all it takes and he slips in easily, filling you almost too good. Again, your grip on his throat tightens and you know when the sensation of both hits him as he lets out a gorgeous moan, the sound causing you to tighten around him as you begin to pop your hips on his cock.

Jaehyun was about to cum. You could feel it by the way he seems to expand inside you, and you wouldn’t blame him. He’s been on edge for a while and the combination of your pussy wrapped around him and your fingers tightly wrapped around his neck, would have him seeing stars. Though, you won’t let it be over that fast. You don’t know Jaehyun’s body well enough to know what his recovery period would be and you are not paying as much as you are to let him cum that fast in your pussy.

Just as you feel he’s only a stroke or two from exploding you lift off him, causing a pitiful whine of his to fill the room. You release your grip on his neck in favour of tangling your fist in his hair tightly and leaning down. “You know it can’t be that easy baby.” You pout, the now familiar mocking tone present in your voice.

“What the actual hell.” He groans, pulling his head to the side, almost purposefully so that the tug on his hair is harder. You place a gentle kiss on his sharp jawline before patting his chest, caressing him so lightly as to not rile him into cumming untouched. When enough time had passed that you were satisfied he was again far from orgasm, you slowly sunk down on him again.

Jaehyun tries not to move, he really does, but he’s just so fucking sensitive from beging edged. He cries out curse words as you move against him slowly. His back arches off the bed and trying to sooth his mind, you tug at his roots till his head tips back again and you lower your head to litter light kisses on his throat. Now marked with light hickeys and obvious marks from where your fingers were tightly coiled around his neck.

All of these light touches and soft movements bring Jaehyun closer to cumming much faster than he thought he could but like before, you felt his impending orgasm and chose to lift right off of him. He whines a hopelessly loud cry and attempts to usher you back down on him by lifting his hips. When you don't budge he frustratingly brings one of his hands that he had so nicely kept above his head, between the two of you where he grasps his cock in his hand. Hissing from the sensitivity of two denied orgasms, he tries powers through and tug at himself desperately.

It’s only when you pull his hand from his cock underneath you that you notice the water pooling in his tear ducts. Dear god, you made him cry. You shush him soothingly and wipe the stray tear that falls. He grabs your wrist looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Safeword?” You question. He shakes his head no and you internally smile. “Please let me cum.” he begs, a strain lingering in his voice. You nod and he prepares for you to take a seat on him when you suddenly roll to the side making him panic. You weren’t going to leave him like this were you? Pay him and send him home?

“No, no, no. Please.” he pleads before you connect your lips with his, encouraging him to roll to his side as well. He melts into the kiss, easily letting you lead as he obliges, fully facing you as you press yourself closer to him. You lift your leg so that you are half straddling his hip and use the heel of your foot to press his hips to yours. His cock nudges at your thigh and he shudders, lightly placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. Silently asking for permission. When you don’t push him away, he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth as you reach a hand down to grasp him softly and align him to your entrance once again.

He doesn't push himself into you. He seems to have learnt better than that in your short time together. So when you once again press your heel to his ass he gets the hint and jolts into you. His mouth gapes open as you continue to kiss him and small whimpers fall from your own mouth. It’s been a struggle for you too, don’t be mistaken. As everytime he gets edged, effectively, so do you. So when he does finally start to rut his hips into yours you know he won’t last long. His movements are slow and deep as he fights his own sensitivity to finally tip over the edge.

It feels intimate. The position, the pace, the way he parts from your mouth to look you in the eyes before his lids close in bliss everytime you squeeze around him. You know very well by now when he's getting close so when you feel him begin to throb inside you, you guide his hand on your waist between the two of you and you think he gets the idea. He presses small, slow and sensual circles on your clit that has you quickly tipped over the edge. Your body in turn convulses as he rides you through your high. The pulsing and tight heat of your pussy around him paired with the contractions from your orgasm has his own high crashing into him. The most beautiful sounds leave his raw throat as his eyes screw shut, his grip on you tightening and you swear you’ve never seen a prettier sight.

The next few moments you two just spend lying in each other's arms, both too sensitive to move until you know that your pussy has held him captive long enough. You gently pull away from him, lowering your leg back down to your side. Another moment passes and Jaehyun still has his eyes closed and you almost think you’ve given him a heart attack. “I don’t want to leave.” he mumbles and you almost laugh in relief.

“You don't have to leave right now Jaehyun.” You asure and his eyes peel open, grip still tight around your waist.

“No, you don’t get it. I don’t want to just go and never see you again.” His voice is barely above a whisper and you find yourself caught in thoughts. Does this mean he’s caught some sort of feelings? I mean you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything but this was only supposed to be a one time thing.

You go to move, trying to untangle yourself from his arms and avoiding his gaze. “Look Jaehyun, I’ll just get your money-”

He pulls you close to him so that your noses are nearly touching and your heart thumps hard in your chest as his eyes make contact with yours. “I don’t want the money. I want you.”

You sigh in relief once again. “I want you too.”

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ukrfeminism · 1 year

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5 minute read

TW: descriptions of sexual violence from the start

“For two hours he tortured me, his hands were everywhere. I thought rape was inevitable, I wondered whether I’d get out alive. We were in an empty property on a quiet cul-de-sac and he’d completely overpowered me.” These are the words of a female estate agent who was attacked by the seller of a property she had gone to value in Essex.

Hers is not a lone voice. Women in the property industry, who frequently visit empty homes alone — either to value them for sellers or to show prospective buyers around — are speaking out about the dangers.

Now, 30 years after the estate agent Suzy Lamplugh was declared dead (seven years after going missing on a viewing in Fulham, west London, with a man who called himself “Mr Kipper”) and 31 years after the Birmingham estate agent Stephanie Slater was kidnapped during a house viewing, women are saying it still isn’t safe to do their job.

Only 22 per cent of estate agents and letting agents, male and female, feel safe when on viewings, while 82 per cent say estate agent safety isn’t taken seriously enough — according to a survey of 150 agents across the country Allan Fuller an estate agent in Putney, southwest London.

The case of the estate agent in Essex, who spoke anonymously to The Times, was dropped by the Crown Prosecution Service last year, two days before coming to court. “I am furious, he had the money to hire a big shot lawyer. I feel let down,” she says. “It has been absolutely horrendous. It had a massive effect on my whole life: my relationship of 15 years broke down and I ended up on antidepressants and having panic attacks every time I went on a valuation.”

Although she has now moved agencies, she continues to work as an estate agent. “I thought, if I give up my job, he has won again — and I love my job.” However, she insists her female colleagues carry rape alarms, check in before and after house visits, and follow strict protocols about leaving doors open in properties and never getting into cars with sellers or potential buyers.

Fuller says: “There is a common misperception in the industry that ‘it won’t happen to me’.”

The responses to Fuller’s survey show that it does happen. One female respondent who works in the West Midlands wrote: “I recently valued a property and met with a man accused of domestic violence and I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. He proceeded to show me an over-stair cupboard and said that there was ‘enough space for three dead bodies’. I left quickly after that.”

Other comments included:

“During a repossession the owner climbed into the loft and was threatening with a knife. Police had to taser him twice to safely remove him.”

“Carrying out a market appraisal with a gentleman who revealed he was due in court the next day to be charged with rape.”

“I believed a viewer was carrying a knife on a viewing, they were trying to get me into a certain room. The vibe wasn’t good, so I managed to email my office an SOS. Two members of staff came and pretended to be the next viewers.”

And: “I was covering a valuation and the person locked me in without me knowing and as I went to leave he went to hug me. I had to duck under his arm and unlatch the door quickly to get out.”

It’s not just on visits that workers are vulnerable, though. One estate agent told The Times how she was assaulted by a prospective buyer while working alone in an office in Oxford on a dark December evening. After being cornered, by the photocopier, she says she managed to “thump him in the windpipe” and run for help. He was arrested and charged. She now insists all her staff carry rape alarms and follow strict safety rules in and out of the office.

Fuller says he makes staff safety a priority too, sending his staff on self-defence courses — “one tip I picked up was if a man is making an unwanted move on a woman she should look as if she’s about to be sick, they soon back off” — issuing rape alarms, fitting CCTV and insisting that prospective buyers and sellers visit the office, verify their name and address, and are captured on camera before going on viewings.

Claire Lewis, 65, was an estate agent in Putney at the time Lamplugh went missing. She says: “Everyone was so shocked, we’d been getting into cars with prospective clients and going on viewings with men. It never occurred to us that anything could happen. That all changed and we suddenly became much more aware.”

However, she now worries for her daughter, Charlotte Dale, 34, a part-time estate agent in southwest London. “Generally things seem more dangerous for women even though they have mobile phones. Whereas in the past men acted in isolation — now they receive validation and encouragement on the internet,” Lewis says.

The estate agent from Essex, who was tortured for two hours, says she wants to see a national campaign to draw attention to the dangers: “Some estate agents seem to care more about protecting assets, with money laundering checks etc, than they do about protecting their staff. This has to change.”

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deathbecomesthem · 30 days

Text

Exile in Guyville 2 - Glory

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI

Moodboard by @onegirlmanytales

Record shop Eddie Munson x AFAB Reader |8.2K

*Disclaimer* This story is written in second-person POV for reader immersion. I am labeling it an Eddie Munson x Reader fic. Reader is a unique character. They have a shaved head, are physically disabled - sometimes walking with a limp -, tattoos, and piercings. They have a backstory. If you are not interested in a fic written in that way, simply do not read it. Both Eddie and reader are bisexual. Reader is physically disabled and has PTSD. Eddie is bisexual, has PTSD, and chronic pain.

Series Summary: It's 1995 and Eddie is still looking for a home. His nomadic lifestyle as a studio musician for hire has become lonely as he watches his friends move on and start families of their own. The loss of Wayne, and the relationship he forms with an old rocker brings him to a college town where he meets you. Is there room in your life for him?

Chapter Summary: Eddie seeks you out in the hope that you'll come through with your offer to help. This chapter contains sexual content in the form of masturbation.

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*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Your hand shoots out at the sound, groping around your nightstand, only knocking over a candle and a full glass of water for your efforts.

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Fuuuuuucccckkk. Where in the fucking fuck?

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

The alarm is screaming through your pitch-black room, and you slowly remember. It’s not on the nightstand anymore. You put your foot in a puddle of cold water and hobble to the other side of your bedroom, slamming a fist down onto the alarm clock, halting the offending sound. Your immediate thought is, go back to bed.

4:25 am. You had fallen asleep sometime after 2:00 when the frat guy from the house next door finally stopped puking outside of your bedroom window. If you had known when you signed your lease that you’d be next to a fraternity, you’d have opted for an upstairs bedroom. You’re seriously considering moving your shit up to occupy one of your roommates’ bedrooms while they’re home for the summer. You can’t do it, though, it feels wrong to intrude in their spaces like that.

You’re slowly starting to remember why you set your alarm for such an ungodly hour. You’re baking and opening this morning. The usual baker was stuck in West Virginia, her car had died while she was trudging through the mountains to head back north. You have no idea how long she’ll be out, but you and your manager are splitting baking duties until her return. You’re her most reliable worker, unfortunately for you.

A blue button-up shirt passes your smell test along with the only pair of jeans you own that don’t have the knees blown out. Yet. Your hamper is overflowing, which you know means you have to get to the laundromat, but god do you want to avoid it as long as possible. You can eek out at least one more day, since tomorrow is a day off, and you won’t need to wear the prescribed “uniform”.

The big house is quiet. It makes the soft hair on your arms stand on end in these early hours with only your still sleep fogged thoughts echoing inside your head. You often wonder what ghosts occupy the space within the walls of the old place. It was hacked to pieces sometime in the 60s and turned into ROTC housing. The upstairs has a wall dividing the hallway in half, once upon a time the boys were on the left and the girls were on the right, with a bathroom at the far end of each hallway. Two big bedrooms on the ground floor, likely for house parents back in the day. Yours is the one next to the kitchen with quick access to the back door. That is all well and good until Mo moves back in. She’s an early riser, and you swear she stands outside of your bedroom door banging pots and pans together on purpose every morning just to aggravate you.

Today, though, you’re alone. And you’re spooked. It happens more often than you’d like, the sense that someone has been in your home when you’re out or late at night when you’re asleep. Rent is cheap, and you can’t afford a place with a lock on a lobby door. It will be better when the halls are once again filled with the sounds of your 7 roommates, as well as all of the random folks that wander in looking for them. You like it, being in this community, this family.

You see the blinking red light on the answering machine set in the “window” cut out of the barrier wall in the upstairs hallway and hit play on your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and run water over your head.

Mo’s voice rings through the empty space, and it doesn’t settle the eerie feeling in your gut. “Hey bitch. I’m stopping by later with groceries. Mom says you should come spend some time with us this summer, she hates you being alone all the time. Love you, I hope you’re home when I come by. Mwah.”

Mo’s mom loves you and hates your situation. She was friends with your parents before they left. She doesn’t know the whole story, but she knows enough to judge your mom for leaving her barely 18-year-old alone with no financial or emotional support to fend for herself. So, she does what she does best, she feeds you at every opportunity. And you are thankful. So thankful. She didn’t even look at you funny when you showed up with a buzzed head and fresh tattoos a few months ago. She hugged you like you were still the kid that sang in the high school choir with Mo. You suppose you still are that person, but a lot has changed in the last couple of years.

You head back down the stairs, your left leg sends a zing when you hit the first step, so you smack it hard with your fist and keep trudging along. The instinct to hit that aching leg is strong, but never actually eases the pain. Your watch is telling you that it’s 10 til 5:00, and you’ve got to get your ass moving. You run back to your room to grab your keys and wallet, shove them into your pockets, and head out the front door. The coffee shop is just around the corner at the end of your street. It’s perfect for you since you can’t afford to keep the insurance on a car. That’s fine when your roommates are around, but it keeps you stranded in town while they’re gone. You’d give anything to take a ride out to the woods on the outskirts of town. To be able to breathe in the pine scented air and feel the crunch of leaves under your feet. To hike up the hills and look out over the lake and see the ripples of sunshine flash up at you. You miss it.

Your feet hit the uneven sidewalk, dodging any spots that might trip you up. No streetlights in this part of town, which you never understood. It’s mostly college housing in this part of town, shouldn’t the safety of the students that come from all over the country be a priority for the city? The answer, of course, is no, even though your chances of being in trouble on this street far outweigh the possibility than on the side of town where all of the homeowning residents live. There is a clear divide between the locals and the college kids. You would know better than most, you once lived on one of those streets that is lined with single family homes - each with a minivan or station wagon in the garage.

You round the corner of the shop on autopilot until you reach the heavy metal back door. That heavy door with, intended to keep the shop secure in the hours between closing and opening. And yet, the face of the shop has a line of glass doors that open to a smoker’s patio. From the patio, you can see all the way through the dining room and into the kitchen, where that metal door stands guard against - nothing. If someone wants to get in, they’ll get in.

You enter the back door and hang up your bag. You turn the oven on. You start the coffee pots. You flip the switch on the espresso machine. You assemble the froth wand and portafilters. You fill the ice. You fill the creamer pot. You turn on NPR. You put the bagels in the oven. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette on the patio while the bagels turn golden brown under the heating elements of the large industrial oven. The streets are still quiet, only one car drives by heading out towards the highway at this early hour. 5 minutes before the shop opens. Rose will come in and you’ll be ready to deal with what the day has to offer.

This morning is going smoothly, despite the lack of sleep. You get along well with Rose. The two of you are friends, at her constant insistence. You had no choice in the matter, resistance was futile. The combination of the two of you always results in maximum tipping from the customers. They love the dynamic you share, gentle verbal jabs back and forth. The entire staff at the coffee shop has become like a family to you, and the shop itself is like your home. You are often found there when you aren't working, sitting in a booth in the corner with a book or your journal. Sometimes, you play chess with the old men that come in every morning. They love you, and you love sitting with them and hearing their stories. It makes you feel less lonely knowing there are people that want to talk to you – actually look forward to it.

When 9:30 rolls around, you’re beyond ready for a break. This is the last day of a seven-day work stretch. You want nothing more than to clock out and take a nap, but you still have four hours left on your shift. A couple of other workers have come in to start before the lunch crowd started trickling in, so at least you can disappear into the kitchen for prep until it’s time to leave. For now, though, you grab a bagel, a cup of coffee, your cigarettes, and your journal and head for the patio. It is hot, but the breeze feels nice, and you want to be in the sunlight for a while.

You let your mind drift at these times, allowing yourself to be completely unaware of your surroundings. It’s one of the few places you feel safe enough to let your mind wander in this way. The walls can come down for a while in these moments, knowing that there are people inside the building behind your back that are watching out for you. So, you wander, you let your mind travel through time and space. You find words that are asking to be written and place them in your sacred book. It’s your only vulnerable place, it’s where you are still a child, where you haven’t been unceremoniously dumped into adulthood with no one making sure you remember to wash behind your ears and fill up your belly at the appropriate times throughout the day.

This is where you are, lost in your mind, letting yourself feel something, when you register a weight on your shoulder. You spin around, pen held up as if it could defend against whatever threat might be at your back, only to find wide, and quite shocked, brown eyes so dark they’re almost black, staring at the pen you have held up at his chest. It’s Eddie.

You had not, in fact, stopped by the record shop like you told him you would 3 days ago. The reasons, and there are reasons, made sense in your head, but you can’t seem to remember any of them now that the two of you are face to face again. Never mind the fact that with him this close, those dark pools on his face threaten to drown you. You drop your pen and motion for him to sit in one movement, giving him a moment to adjust to your sudden change in demeanor.

As he sits, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket. A leather jacket in this heat is not something you would have chosen for yourself, but you keep that to yourself. You reach for your own smokes, Camels, just like Eddie’s, and startle a little at how quickly he brings his lighter to your face before you can even find yours in your pocket. You attempt to ignore the way that particular gesture sends your guts buzzing.

“So, how are you?” Eddie takes a drag of his cigarette while his other hand absentmindedly taps against the wooden octangular table. He’s not really asking how you are. Eddie is here because you offered him help. You can tell by the way he’s fidgeting that he’s ready to bounce right out of his seat. He’s asking because that’s what you do, and he doesn’t want to be rude. You don’t have time for that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop by yet -” Eddie begins to protest, but you put your hand up to stop him, “- I swear, I was going to, but I got roped into pulling crazy hours here this week. Our baker’s stranded in West Virginia.” You shrug a little. It’s true, but that’s not the only reason. You also worry about what James may have said about you when you left the tattoo shop the other day. You don’t know Eddie at all, and you hate the thought of being a secret joke that they share.

“You know, I’ve tried coming in twice already to find you,” he’s sheepish, eyes cast down to the table, “I’m surprised no one told you,” his eyes meet yours, and you almost reel back. He’s so sincere, it almost breaks your heart, “I really need help, I’m fucking desperate.”

Under normal circumstances, this kind of behavior from someone you haven’t even had a real conversation with would set your teeth on edge. Something about Eddie sets you at ease, though. Your eyes wander to the scar that starts at his cheek and moves south past the collar of his jacket and wonder on it briefly.

“Well, you’re in luck,” you stub out your smoke and throw back your coffee mug, grimacing at the taste of the cold dregs of coffee left at the bottom, “I’m off tomorrow. I can stop by after my shift today to get the lay of the land, yeah?”

You guess it’s safe to assume you’re hired, considering Eddie’s desperation to seek you out. The bags under his eyes tell you he’s not likely to see this side of 10:00 am very often. This could work out, most weeks you were lucky to get 20 hours of work out of the coffee shop, and you didn’t mind doing bitch work if it means working in a quiet shop that hasn’t even opened yet. Plus, records. (And Eddie) You try not to think too much about how the idea of spending more time with him is a big motivator in you skipping your afternoon nap to get a peek at the condition of the record shop.

“Uh, yeah. Fuck yeah.” His smile brings out laugh lines at the edges of his eyes, a clear indication that he wears a smile often, and you think you want to bring that out in him whenever possible. “You know where it is?”

You’re both up and moving back to the inside of the shop side by side. It’s not lost on you that you’re both a little awkward. You know why you’re being weird, you have a crush on this guy, and you can’t deny it. Maybe he’s picking up on it.

You shake the thought out of your brain, don’t start that, and sneak behind the counter, “Don’t leave yet.” You put your pointer finger in the air to indicate “one minute” and sneak to the back to put your shit away and get your apron. Rose is standing in the storeroom mouthing, “oh my god who is that?” in an exaggerated silent yell. You ignore her and head back to the front.

“What’s your fancy?” You can’t let him leave without coffee, he looks like the walking dead, and you have an appointment with him in a few hours.

It’s a little after 1:00 and you’ve got an unhealthy amount of caffeine pumping through your veins as you make your way to the record shop. Dave Mitchell owned it for at least 20 years but sold the space a few months ago so he could retire. You’ve been worried about what might occupy the space and have a real sense of relief knowing it would remain a store full of music. You’re also pleased to see that the Spin More sign still stands above the door and hope that Eddie decides to keep the name. It’s a local landmark.

Before you left the coffee shop, you had promised Rose that you two would get dinner and drinks. It wasn’t an accident that Rose set the schedule so that both of you had the following day off. The plan for tonight is stupid, drunken fun. You both deserve it.

The record store is positioned next to a deli and the smell of bread permeates through the walls. As you enter you spot Eddie on the top step of an a-frame ladder in the center of the store. You see he has a lightbulb in his hand and he’s reaching for a spot above his head. His leather jacket is missing, and you catch sight of a sliver of exposed skin due to the reach of his arms. You see more scars, similar to the ones on his neck, and you wonder to yourself again, just for a moment.

“Knock knock,” you keep your voice level and quiet, trying to avoid startling him. The last thing you want is to have to figure out a way to get him to the hospital. He jumps a little, and you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No worries. Welcome to my humble abode, feel free to look around.” Eddie gives you a wide smile before returning to his task at hand.

You meander through the stacks of boxes, most are open and what you find is an impression collection of records. Like a bee to honey, you’re drawn to a box labeled “shitty punk records.” You’re fingering your way through the collection while Eddie makes his way back to ground level and over to you.

“What do you think?” Eddie opens his arms wide and turns in a circle, presenting the space for your consideration.

“I think you’re gonna have trouble selling records if you don’t take them out of the boxes,” Eddie nods in agreement, and you add, “I’m also deeply offended that you have so many Social D albums in a box labeled ‘shitty punk records’, Eddie.” You give him a disappointed look while holding up their self-titled Social Distortion album.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Eddie’s moving towards you with a little faux frown on his face. He takes the record out of your hand and puts it back in the box, “just because it’s shitty doesn’t mean it’s not good.” He stares down at you, waiting for a response, and his eyes on you start to make your head feel fuzzy. You want to push him out of your space, but you opt to throw your hands up in defeat instead while taking a step backwards. You’re not willing to go toe to toe with someone that obviously knows his stuff when it comes to music. The collection he has is impressive, you can tell that even without seeing inside every box - never mind the guitars he has set up at the far end of the large space. An image of Eddie on stage with a guitar in hand flashes in your mind, and you shift your feet to steady yourself.

Eddie eyes you and lets out a little satisfied hum at your easy surrender. He crooks his finger at you in a “follow me” gesture and starts making his way across the shop. He set a quick pace, and you can feel your hip tighten as you try to keep up with his long gait. You pat your left leg aggressively, not daring to punch it like you normally would. You’d rather not draw attention to your pain, not with Eddie. Not yet.

He reaches into his small office and grabs a notebook and a pen. Eddie looks back at you with concern in his eyes. Pain recognizing pain. You give him a telepathic warning: Danger Do Not Approach This Subject, and he clears his throat in an attempt to hide the question he almost let slip past his lips.

“Uh, how about you write down when you think you’d like to work. It doesn’t even have to be when I’m around because it’s mostly just organizing that I need help with. I’ve got an apartment upstairs, so I’ll always be close by.”

“That sounds like a threat,” you instinctively take the jab, and it earned a little laugh from Eddie. “I’ll work as much as you let me. I’m at the café about 20 hours a week because there aren’t enough hours to spread around during the summer. I need to be able to afford to eat.”

Eddie nods, and says, “sounds perfect,” and he starts fiddling around in his pocket for his keys. He’s working one off the ring for you, and it hits you that he’s already willing to literally give you the key to his kingdom.

“You’re just going to let me come and go as I please? You don’t even know me.” You aren’t used to anyone trusting you at first sight. Especially not after you started shaving your head. Most people were skeptical, assuming you were a delinquent.

“Yeah, why not?” He’s giving you that crooked grin again, but he can tell you’re not buying it. He scratches the back of his neck and admits, “I’ve been trying to catch you at the coffee shop for the last two days. I told your boss who I was, and she told me you were the most reliable employee she’s ever had. Not exactly typical dirtbag behavior.”

You laugh and point at Eddie’s chest, “Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Eddie pulls a boxcutter out of his back pocket and starts working to open a new box, “I’ve got shelves in the back that need to be set up, and we’re just handwriting labels for genres with a fat sharpie until I figure something else out,” the bicep under his shirt sleeve ripples as he tears at the box, and you feel a little flutter in your chest. Push that away, no, “work when you want. Just lock up before you leave. If you’re here at odd hours, like overnight, just keep the noise to a minimum. I don’t wanna piss off the locals,” he reaches down for a new box before he adds, “If you need anything at all, take the stairs at the side door. First apartment on the left. If I’m not here, I’m probably there. Any questions?”

You have a question, you’ve been dreading it, but it has to be asked, “hey, uh, how do you feel about paying me under the table? Cash?” You can’t meet his eyes, because if he says no you’ll have to reconsider. It’s got to be worth it, and paying taxes on the scraps he’ll likely pay you is not what you have in mind.

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Eddie’s waving away your concern, as if this was the only arrangement he was considering anyway, “10 bucks an hour fair?”

You can’t believe he’s actually asking if that’s fair, you’re making $6 an hour at the coffee shop, and that’s getting taxed. His features are genuine, though, he wants his offer to be fair, and he wants to hear that you think it is.

“That’s totally fair,” you heave out a little sigh, “It’s more than fair. Reconsider if it ends up costing too much, ok?”

He waves you off again, still tearing open boxes. You realize at this moment that you’ve only seen Eddie in motion. You wonder if he’s always this high energy, in everything that he does, and immediately shut that thought down.

“Alright, yeah, this is great. Thanks, Eddie, I’ll probably be in tomorrow.” You turn on your heel and give him a wave as you head to the door. He’s grinning and waving back goofily.

The afternoon air on the street is more stifling than it was in the morning, but you stick to the shadows on the sidewalk as you make your way to Rose’s apartment. She could take you back to your place so you can get ready for the night. It’s open mic at Dom’s, and you know you’ll be getting roped into it, as always.

You just don’t know that Eddie will be out looking for the local music scene tonight. He wonders if there were any good open mic nights for him to scope out. He’s always on the lookout for any untapped, unknown artists. There’s a special kind of magic that only happens on the small stages you find inside small dive bars on a random weekday night.

You walk out of the front door of the shop, leaving Eddie alone in the open space. He sits back on his haunches and watches you move along the sidewalk until you’re out of sight. He immediately feels the loss of your presence, like the life has been sucked out of the room, following you out that door. You’re the first person he’s felt any kind of real connection to since he moved into town, and that was just pure instinct. He doesn’t even know you, but he knows better than to fight against that feeling. His gut isn’t wrong about these things. It knows better than his brain when he’s supposed to get to know someone.

The lease agreement for the shop, as well as the apartment upstairs, has been generous. It helps that he made a personal connection with the previous tenant and agreed to continue to run the business in the same manner that Dave had done for the last 20 years. The landlord is happy to cut Eddie a deal. He already knows the business model works, and Eddie has been in the scene for a while. He knows what he was talking about when it comes to music. As far as the business stuff, the landlord is willing to take him at his word - especially after those first couple of checks cleared with no problem.

Eddie took it as a sign, the whole thing sort of fell into his lap. Gift wrapped with a pretty bow. As soon as he thought about any potential issue with the arrangement, a solution showed up with ease. It’s one of those things that he trusts. Sometimes things just work out, and fighting against it would mean missing out on something important. The first time he came to the city he felt the rightness of it immediately. It felt like home, something that not even Hawkins accomplished for him, despite it continuing to be where so many of his loved ones live. But the vibes in Hawkins have always been off for Eddie, even before he was sucked into Vecna’s web all of those years ago.

Eddie’s mind is on the past, and he’s subconsciously rubbing his old scars. They are zinging, sending sharp pain signals to his brain. This happens sometimes when he forgets to push back - the pain starts to sneak in. Those scars always sit on the wrong side of healed, always a little bit painful and raw. It frustrates him to no end. The pain is always present, and it’s worse when he lets his guard down. Not the kind of pain that stops him in his tracks, it’s a constant aggravation. A drumbeat of aching memories. For some time, Eddie thought he was losing his mind, only to find that Steve’s own scars behave the same way.

Eddie stands up with a grunt and rubs a hand down his face. He needs a shave, the stubble on his chin at that itchy length that drives him crazy. He needs to get out of his own head. He considers meditation, having skipped it this morning in an effort to catch you while you were in the coffee house. He knows that skipping that practice only makes him antsy, it’s easier for the pain to sneak in. The time he spends in that quiet space is what keeps the panic attacks at bay.

Eddie feels around in his front pocket for his keys and decides a different type of meditation is in order for today. The sun is shining, and he hasn’t had a chance to ride on the roads that skirted downtown. He knows the terrain changes after a person hits the city limits, and it was past time to see what the area has to offer. An old guy at the coffee house told him about the woods out of town, and Eddie thinks it’s time to check it out.

At the back of the building that houses his business, as well as his new home, sits a small garage. It’s included in the lease agreement, and Eddie counts it as another sign that this is the right place for him. His bike, a ’72 Yamaha CS5, sits pretty in the middle of the space. She was due for the junk heap when Wayne took her off his buddy’s hands. It took Eddie years to rebuild her and make her pretty again, but she’s a beauty now.

As he takes in the sight of her, he feels a little pang of - what? regret? - at the shiny black seat he custom ordered. A seat for one, and one only. It’s never bothered him before, but right now he’s thinking about how it won’t be possible to put someone else on her back with him. The thought of you holding onto his middle while the wind blows through his hair sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, but he pushed back at it immediately. No, Eddie, don’t do that, he tells himself. He can’t be letting himself get carried away in the way that he does.

His baby purrs for him when he turns the ignition. He loves the sound of the two-stroke engine, especially because he’ss the one that brought her back to life. She sat at Wayne’s trailer under a tarp while Eddie led his nomadic existence, and he’d spend his time at home lovingly learning every inch of his baby – fixing, replacing, and cleaning every part of her until she could sing for him. She makes the prettiest sounds.

When Wayne finally succumbed to cancer last year, it was a wake-up call for Eddie. He had nowhere to call his home. Hawkins was a cursed place and was colder still with the loss of his only blood relation - his father excluded. His close friends, especially Nancy and Steve, had started seeing the cracks when they talked to him, he had been aimless and lonely. They all had their own families, lives that they had been building for years, and he had his bike and guitar with the occasional romantic endeavor. He rarely talked about those things, but Nancy always seemed to know when they started - and when they inevitably would end. A six sense for Eddie’s aching heart. Eddie never talked to Steve about it, afraid to reopen old wounds.

Steve. He’s coming out soon. He’s the silent business partner. Beth and the kids are taking a trip to see her family, and Steve is using the opportunity to get out of town. Steve’s wife, Beth, loves Eddie like he’s family. She calls him at least once a week to beg him to move back to Hawkins. He’s an uncle to her two kids - the best uncle. Beth, angel that she is, made sure Wayne was well stocked with frozen homemade meals in those last couple of years. Beth loves Eddie, and she knows all about the kind of relationship that Eddie and Steve shared all of those years ago. She doesn’t care, if anything, she counts herself lucky to have him in their lives. Lucky that Steve and Eddie found a way to maintain the love between them, even if there’s that associated pain.

On the city streets, the heat of the day feels oppressive. Eddie didn’t realize it could get this humid here, but the air in his new home with its close proximity to the Great Lakes often made the air in his chest feel heavy. Even on the back of the bike with the wind blowing through his hair, it was too hot - like god was holding a blow dryer up to his face on the highest setting. The further he rides out of town, the more the trees hug the sides of the road creating a protective canopy from the harsh rays of sunlight. He makes a mental note to take this exact ride as often as possible when the leaves start to change. He can imagine the foliage will be stunning. Maybe he’ll have someone to share the view with by then.

He isn’t quite sure where he’s going, but he assumes he’ll come across signs to guide him to his destination at some point. It doesn’t matter, he has no one to answer to, other than himself. He can get a little bit lost. When he sees the sign for the orchard – closed for the season – he knows he’s close. He takes a deep turn around a bend, over a bridge with an old railroad track underneath, and he sees the sign. .5 miles to Towner’s Woods. It’s called Townie’s Woods by the locals, miles of cross-country skiing hills with a neolithic burial ground overlooking a set of lakes.

A few moments after his girl rumbles over soft gravel he sees the entrance. Only one car in the parking lot, yet another testament to the college students exit for the summer. He walks his bike back behind a large brick building. He’s not even really sure if he should be worried about leaving her, but he’s risk averse when it comes to his baby. She leaned against the brick façade that overlooks the train tracks, he kisses his fingers and lays them on the fuel tank. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

When his feet leave the gravel parking lot and hit the soft path made of dirt and dead leaves, he feels transported to a fantasy world. Everything is soft, rays of sunlight muted by the huge trees in the ancient forest. He comes across several moss-covered structures while he wanders the diverging paths that wind throughout the park, but otherwise nature has her way here. He finds a plaque that tells him he’s about to start up a path that once housed the bones of people that time has forgotten, and he turns away to leave the ghosts and not intrude on their rest.

When he spots a pavilion covered in graffiti with tables and beer cans littered around, he decides to stop. This is the spot. He rests his back on the edge of a table, facing out towards the sparkling lakes. The only disappointment he’s felt since coming to the park is seeing “No Trespassing” signs and a barbed wire fence separating the lakes from people that might try to get close. These lakes provide water for most of the cities in the area, it makes Eddie a little sad to know he won’t be able to swim in them during the heat of the summer.

The air starts to feel stagnant not long after he finds the spot he’s already starting to consider as his. He pulls his hair back into a low bun at the nape of his neck, taking a moment to thank the Eddie who remembered to keep a hair tie in his pants’ pocket earlier. He lets his mind wander back to town and the people he’s met so far. More than a few, he wants to take a moment and see if he could recall their names. The town is a hippy oasis, it seems as if he isn’t the only person to stumble in and stay. The smell of patchouli permeates every storefront he’s visited so far, even the tattoo shop smells of it. He wonders if he might eventually develop an immunity to it, but for now it tickles his nose every time he goes through a front door. The only exception, mercifully, is the record shop. It shares a wall with a deli and the smell of freshly baked bread filled his store and apartment. The smell often leads him next door where Jean, the deli owner, provides most of his meals.

He has no friends in town, not yet. Everyone he’s come across has been friendly, warm, and most of all, interesting. He has his mind set for tonight, he’s scoping the scene around town. He’s bound to come across open mics, it’s Thursday in a college town. Even in the summer, he knows the locals will turn out for live music. He’s hoping to make some connections, and who knows, maybe hear some halfway decent musicians.

His mind wanders while his pen moves across the paper on its own accord for a while, until he knows it was time for meditation. His skin is starting to crawl with sweat, and his eyes are getting tired. The woods have brought him back to himself in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. He finds a spot in the grass, crosses his legs, and starts his deep breaths. He doesn’t say the words out loud today, not wanting to disturb the peaceful setting but allowing them to run through his mind while he begins relaxing each muscle from head to toes.

Steve once walked in on Eddie’s meditations. It was the last time Eddie had stayed with him and Beth for a visit. Eddie, who couldn’t stop moving, who was always so full of potential energy he practically vibrated, was sitting on the floor in absolute peaceful serenity. Eddie took the time to teach Steve about the practice, but it never resonated with Steve in the same way it had with Eddie.

When Eddie opens his eyes again, the sun is sitting in the sky at a different angle. It’s time to find his way back to his baby and ride home. His watch says 5:00. That gives him enough time to shower and scavenge for something to eat. His body is weightless while he meanders along the paths back to the parking lot. It’s like that, meditation eases the weight of everything.

Eddie takes his time on the way back into town, moving alongside streets he has yet to travel. The neighborhoods on the edge of town have families. Kids are everywhere, some on bicycles, some chasing each other through yards. He passes an elementary school where there are teenagers on skateboards practicing jumps on curbs that have “No Skateboarding” signs. The closer he gets to his apartment, the more the single-family houses are replaced with large colonials that have been chopped into smaller units. Wooden staircases wind around the outside of the houses with various front doors to separate apartments.

By the time Eddie finally gets his baby back into her bed and covered with her blanket, sweat has soaked his shirt making it cling to his chest. He makes the mistake of lifting an arm to assess the damage done by the heat of the day and recoils. He needs a shower. He needs air conditioning. He needs a smoke and a sandwich.

Eddie lets the showerhead run cool, almost too cool, before stepping behind the curtain. The initial shock fades quickly while he stands under the water washing the sweat off of his back. The relief is immediate. He lets his mind go where it’s been asking to go for hours - what happens in the shower stays in the shower. That was a rule he’s always lived by. His gut tightened as he pictured your face. The slope of your neck where he’s been wanting to put his mouth and taste. A voice that was surprisingly sultry, a voice that made his skin warm the first time he heard it. Eddie’s instincts are sharp, and they’ve been screaming at him since the first time he laid eyes on you. You’re too pretty. He shouldn’t have gone looking for you after the tattoo shop encounter. He wanted it too much. He wants you, and that want only seems to be increasing the more time he spends with you. He’s afraid he’ll fall in love with you, and then what?

He exhales a frustrated groan and turns the tap to warm. He can’t go out until he relieves this frustration. He tries to think about the girls in the Playboy he has on his nightstand. Sitting pretty with their perky tits on display, but it’s no use. When he thinks about your eyes, and the way your lips quirk when you look at him he finds that he’s immediately hard as a rock. It’s no use fighting it, not in the shower, when he can just wash away the guilt once it’s over. With one hand propped against the shower wall, the other fisting his hard cock, it takes no time at all for him to reach his climax. With a whimper, he releases himself against the blue tiles and immediately works to forget that he just came so easily at the thought of your smile. Pathetic.

Eddie steps out and towels himself off. He pulls himself together quickly. He opts for a simple black t-shirt, black jeans, and black Docs. It’s his signature look for a reason, it’s easy to pull off and hard to fuck up. Plus, he thinks he looks pretty in black. His hair routine is simple, Steve taught him how to care for his locks while also making it look like he put no effort into it. He even decides to ring his eyes with liner before heading out into the night. Pretty indeed.

He makes it to the deli just in time for Jean to make him a cold sandwich before she shuts down for the day. He sits at the counter while she does her closing routine and makes conversation. He makes a point to start off on good terms with all of the local business owners. Jean is special. 70 years old and she works every day of the week baking her own bread and making her own soups. Eddie knew he would love her until the day he died the first moment he laid eyes on her.

Eddie gets up to leave after having his fill and stuffs a couple of bills in the tip jar next to the old cash register. Jean calls out “Have fun, Eddie. You look hot as hell tonight.”

Eddie’s laugh is loud, he barks it out with his head thrown back. He tries to hide the blush he feels creeping up his neck. “Flattery works on me, Sweetheart,” he says as he runs back across the dining room to leave another dollar bill in the tip jar.

It doesn’t take much wandering for Eddie to be drawn from the street by the sound of music. Not just any music, but acoustic guitar – live music. It’s a tune he doesn’t recognize, probably some folk song, maybe even an original. The bar is smokey and fuller than he expects. Mostly older locals go out to hear their friends play music on a stage rather than in their living room. Eddie heads to the counter to order a beer and introduce himself to the bartender. His smile is contagious, and he makes friends easily, so it was no surprise that the bartender found herself leaning over the counter to carry on a hushed conversation with him.

“If you want to sign up for a slot, we’ve got a few open.” She holds out a clipboard for Eddie to look over. He has no intention of getting on stage tonight, but he takes the opportunity to scan the names of performers that have already signed up. Your name is right there, and his stomach drops. He clears his throat and slides the clipboard back across the sticky counter.

“Thanks, but I’m happy to observe tonight.” He tells the bartender with a grin. He snakes through the crowd to stand in a corner at the back of the room. He scans the room for you, wondering if it’s a coincidence – the name on the list. He clocks a goth chick at a table close to the stage. She seems out of place, but she’s speaking animatedly to an older couple at the table next to her. He shakes his head, wondering if he would be able to get used to seeing these mixed groups mingling.

Finally, he sees you. You’re to the right of the stage, talking to the emcee. The gray-haired man reaches behind himself to hand you a battered guitar case. You kiss him on the cheek, and Eddie can read your lips saying an exaggerated “Thank you” to the man. The radio plays loudly in the bar between sets, so Eddie can’t actually hear you, but he watches you tune the battered instrument with practiced ease.

The emcee makes his way onto the stage with a crooked gait and brings his tall frame down to the microphone at the center, “First off tonight, we have a local that I’m pretty sure everyone in this room already knows. Let’s see what she’s got for us tonight. She has the voice of an angel but the tongue of a sailor. Buy her a beer when she’s done and maybe we can convince her to come back up and do an original later.”

Eddie’s initial shock is replaced with a warmth in his chest when he sees you approach the microphone at center stage. “Thank you, Uncle Jack, for those kind words and the use of your baby tonight. I’m going to play a song by an artist I met the last time I was in New York. I won’t have the energy that Ani Difranco has, I assure you, but her music resonates with me. Here we go.”

You step back, take a breath, and your small hands work the strings in a way that makes the entire room grow quiet and take notice. Your fingers move in a complicated dance, and your voice rings out with a surety that Eddie rarely hears at an open mic night. It is clear that you have spent a lot of time on stage. It is clear that you are very comfortable in your own skin in front of an audience. At the sound of your voice, Eddie’s feet are practically nailed to the ground below him. He can barely breathe. His eyes are fixed on your face while you mesmerize him, and everyone else in the room.

“The butter melts out of habit, you know the toast isn’t even warm.

The waitress and man in the plaid shirt play out a scene they’ve played so many times before

I am watching the sun stumble home in the morning from a bar on the east side of town

And the coffee is just water dressed in brown

Beautiful but boring he visited me yesterday

He noticed my fingers and asked me if I could play

I didn’t really care a lot but couldn’t think of a reason why not

I said if you don’t come any closer, I don’t mind if you stay

My thighs have been involved in many accidents and now I can’t get insured

And I don’t need to be lured by you

My cunt is built like a wound that won’t heal and now you don’t have to ask

Cuz, you know how I feel

You know how I feel”

This is when you notice him in the corner. If it wasn’t for the eye contact, Eddie would swear you didn’t know he was there. Not a single note falters while you put yourself into the song. Your talent is more than impressive, but your vulnerability makes him feel almost guilty – as if he, and everyone else in the room, is spying on a very private and intimate moment.

“Art is why I get up in the morning but my definition ends there

You know it doesn’t seem fair that I’m living for something I can’t even define

There you are right there in the meantime

I don’t want to play for you anymore show me what you can do

Tell me what are you here for

I want my old friends

I want my old face

I want my own mind

Fuck this time and place

The butter melts out of habit you know the toast isn’t even warm”

The song ends, and you’re off. Like a bird taking flight. The emcee, Uncle Jack, makes his way to the mic, while you grab the arm of your friend and head swiftly to the bar.

“... will be back later with something original, she promises, unless she drinks too much and forgets. Our next performer…”

Eddie watches you at the bar doing a shot with your friend, the goth chick he had noticed earlier. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you move your eyes to find Eddie still watching you from the dark corner with a smile on his face.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x afab!reader #stranger things au #tw stalking #eig

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honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

Text

Every Step You Take

Pairing: Dark!Peter Ballard x Afab Fem!Reader - Dark!001 x Afab Fem!Reader

Requested: Hi there! First I wanted to express how in love I am with your work! I honestly think you're an amazing writer and that your works are bliss istg! ♡ I just read that you're closing your requests and I wanted to see if I could leave one, if you don't wanna answer it it's okay I understand ♡I wanted to request a Peter Ballard x fem reader (if you want the reader can be one of Brenner's kids but ofc the reader's of age) with the prompts 1, 9 in fluff, 22 and 23 in smut, 19 and 25 in angst, all from him and in the order you want!

Summary: Chaos erupts in Hawkins lab. What’s happens when your close friend Peter is the reason why?

Warnings: Heavy Mentions of Blood, Gore, Violence, Death, Manipulation, Claustrophobia, Panic Attacks, Smut, Age-Gap, Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Edging If You Squint.

Please Please Please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: The reader is 18+ in this fic. If I had to give her an actual age I would say roughly 21-22. Peter is roughly 28-29. Any sexual acts are fully consensual. This is also tagged as Dark!Peter, and while that is true, it’s mostly just regular Peter, because he himself is a walking red flag, and his character is already very dark. Just wanted to make that known.

Prompts:

1. “I want you by my side.”

9. “Just trust me alright?”

19. “I know you’re mad at me, but I’m only doing this to protect you.”

22. “So good for me, look at how much you came.”

23. “Where did this attitude come from hm?”

25. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

This is not yet edited, I will get to it ASAP

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⚠️ This fic is 18+ so minors DNI ⚠️

Please read the Author’s Note and Warnings above before continuing!!! Thank you!

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Chaos.

If there’s one word you could pick to describe the situation you’re currently in, that would be the word to choose.

Everything around you is in utter chaos.

Alarms are blaring, the fluorescent lights over head are flickering, screaming echoes from somewhere throughout the building, and everyone is tumbling past you. It’s all a blur of white uniforms and clicking heels as someone shoves you out of their way. They’re all more concerned for their own safety than yours, as you stand there, utterly clueless, in your hospital gown.

This doesn’t upset you though. In all honesty you’re not really worried about yourself either; If it comes down to it, you’d use your powers for protection. The only thing you’re actually worried about right now is finding him.

Finding Peter.

Peter is your….friend? Companion? You’re not really sure to be honest. All you know is that the two of you had grown close in recent months, bonding over shared experiences with loneliness. You both found solitude in each other, and he made sure you knew that you could always come to him for help, advice, or comfort.

And you did, almost every day in fact.

Being so much older than all of the kids easily made you an outcast amongst them. They didn’t disrespect you at all, in fact they’re all borderline terrified of you, but that didn’t stop the exclusion. Papa never really acknowledged you anymore, other than when he needed to run some tests, and all of the workers treated you like you were five. You were so lonely and had no one to talk to for a long time, spending most nights wandering the halls instead of being alone with your thoughts in your room.

It wasn’t until you had first bumped into him in the hall about a year ago that you even knew of his presence. He’d been so kind and gentle with you that day, helping you up from the ground and guiding you back to your room.

“How did you even manage to sneak out?” He’d asked, and you’d been forced to meekly explain that after many freak outs, Papa instructed workers to leave your door open a crack every night.

You’re insanely claustrophobic, and your room really doesn’t help. You don’t have control over the lights, so it’s almost always dark in there, and it’s such a small, confined space that it makes it hard for you to breathe.

You’d expected him to roll his eyes and scoff like every other person who’d heard the story, but he didn’t. He threw his head back with a laugh, joking that you must have caused a lot of trouble to get Papa to agree to something like that.

He wasn’t far off, but you didn’t feel like going into detail.

He’d guided you into your room, and waited for you to get situated in bed before wishing you goodnight with a wink, and leaving the door open a crack.

The whole interaction left you both flustered and confused, wondering why this absolute stranger had such an effect on you, and why he spoke to you with kindness instead of authority like everyone else did.

You began to notice his presence more often after that. He would always offer to play chess with you in the rainbow room if you seemed bored, sometimes he’d be the one to deliver lunch and dinner to your room, and on occasion he would stay and chat with you for a few minutes.

“On occasion” quickly turned into most times, and “a few minutes” turned into an hour or two. He was easy to befriend, an you both had plenty in common. He made you feel safe, and warm, and dare you say even loved. He’d promised to always be there for you and protect you, and he’d kept that promise. Any time you were threatened with a punishment or put in harms way by another child, he would stick up for you, keep you safe.

So you can’t help but feel like it’s your turn.

Gunshots ring out somewhere in the distance, and you flinch as the screaming around you becomes louder. Another person bumps your shoulder, and this time you’re knocked onto your ass. You groan, covering your head with your arms as you attempt to protect yourself from getting trampled. You’re surrounded by a stampede of incompetent assholes who’ve bossed you around your whole life, and honestly you’re starting to feel more annoyed than scared.

Finally after a few moments the screaming subsides, and you’re left alone in an empty hallway, sitting in the middle of the floor. You shake your head, beginning to pull your aching body up from the ground, until you pause. You hear footsteps coming from the hallway to your right.

You take a moment to listen, registering their movement. They’re not quick paced, scattered, or scared like everyone else. These ones are calm, collected, menacing even. And of course, they’re headed right towards you.

You barely have any time to register this observation before the person rounds the corner in front of you. You make eye contact with them and the tense feeling in your chest dissipates, your shoulders immediately relaxing with a sigh. It’s just Peter.

For a second, he has a wild, crazy look in his eyes, but then it flickers to confusion with furrowed brows, then fear. He’s tense, more tense than you’ve ever seen him. “What are you doing out here?” He sounds frantic, like he didn’t expect to see you here, in this building, that you’ve never left.

“Uhh-” you’re cut off as he lifts you up from the ground by your arm. You yelp, but not in pain, more in surprise than anything as he half escorts, half drags you down the hallway with him. “You’re supposed to be in your room.” He sounds like he’s scolding you.

“I was, until I heard gunshots and screaming. They don’t latch my door Peter, you know that-” you remember the chaos that had surrounded you moments ago, “Hey what’s going on?” He doesn’t respond, whipping his head around as if he’s looking for something, “Peter.” You try again, desperately waiting for an answer.

He only grunts in response, leaving your question unanswered once again. You quickly become fed up, as he drags you down empty hallway after empty hallway. Eventually you pull your arm from his grasp in annoyance, backing away from him. He spins to face you, attempting to snatch your arm but you step back, dodging him.

“Stop it! What the hell is the matter with you? What’s going on?”

He tries to grab your arm again, failing.

“Peter!”

“I’m trying to protect you!” He finally spits out, and your eyebrows furrow, bottom lip beginning to tremble at his tone.

“Protect me from what? Peter, please, you’re scaring me. What’s happening?” His eyes soften significantly as your face falls, and he steps closer to you, lacing his fingers through yours. His thumb delicately strokes the back of your hand and you sniffle, absolutely lost.

“I know, I know you’re scared. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He glances around once again as if to make sure the coast is clear, before looking back down at you, “Just trust me alright?”

You shouldn’t have nodded as quickly as you did. You should have held out a little longer, pestered him with more questions, and refused to go with him until he provided you with the answers that you so desperately wanted. But this was Peter, he’d never given you a reason not to trust him, so how could you start now?

“Good girl.” He squeezes your hand in response before turning on his heel, and dragging you with him. You have very little time to process the affect those words have on you before you slam into his back. He’d stopped abruptly, listening for something. You can’t help but listen too, hearing many sets of footsteps heading down the hall in your direction.

“Shit.” He curses, before quickly pulling you into a room off to the right. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you in almost pitch black, the only lighting coming from the small glass panel on the door. You stay completely silent as the footsteps rush past you. In all honesty they sound like guards. But why would you being hiding from the guards?

He turns to you once they pass, gripping your wrists firmly in his hands to gather your full attention. “I need you to listen to me,” he speaks in a hushed tone and you nod, “I’m going to go back out.”

Your brows feel like they’ve just been permanently furrowed in confusion, because why in the actual fuck would he want to go back out there? You feel yourself shaking your head before he can even finish his explanation.

“No…no you can’t Peter.” He releases your wrists, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“I’m going to go back out there,” he repeats slowly, “and you’re going to stay here.” You almost burst out laughing at that. You? Stay here? Absolutely not.

“No.” You shake your head, “No way- not happening. At least let me go with you, I can protect you!” You try to reason and he chuckles, like you had just said something so unbelievably adorable and he found it endearing.

“I appreciate the thought darling but I don’t need you putting yourself in harms way. I can protect myself.” You cross your arm’s defiantly, twisting your head out of his grip.

“Well if you leave, I’m sure as hell not staying-” you glance around, trying to figure out exactly where the two of you are. It looks like another bedroom, which is the last place you want to stay, and he must know that, “-in here!”

He sighs, backing away from you and towards the door. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

You’re staring to become angry now. Angry that he thinks he can keep you in here. Angry that he thinks that this situation is more difficult for him than it is for you. Angry that he’s not giving you any information other than the fact that you “need to trust him.”

“If you leave this room I’m coming with you, end of story. Now get out of my way.” You huff, wishing he would stop trying to boss you around. You try to push past him to get to the door but he doesn’t budge. You try again and still, nothing. With the way he’s looking at you he almost seems amused, and that pisses you off.

You extend your arm, ready to shove him to the side with your powers, but before you’re even given the chance, you’re slammed up against the wall, being held up by nothing but air. It knocks the wind out of you and you wheeze, looking up at him in shock.

What the fuck?

“Do not-” he looks irritated, the wild look in his eyes returning as he steps towards you, fingers reaching out to firmly grasp your chin, “Do not ever use your powers on me. Do you understand?” Your eyes widen and you nod frantically, regretting even thinking about it. This is not the Peter you know, and you’re afraid to set him off even further. So many questions run through your head, unable to process them all at once.

Is he just like you? How is he doing this? Is he going to hurt you? Are you going to be left here alone? What if-

He watches you carefully as you tremble under his touch, knowing that your brain must be moving a mile a minute. The last thing he wanted to do was reveal his powers to you like this, but he has no other choice. If you aren’t going to listen, he’s going to have to force you to. His hand slips from your chin to cradle your cheek, and you whimper in fear.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles apologetically, “I’m sorry but you give me no choice. I’m not letting you out there.” He slowly steps away from you, “I need to keep you safe.” He makes his way towards the door and your eyes widen.

“No- Peter don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare!” You’re angry, but your voice comes out frantic and scared. You attempt to flail your limbs in an effort to escape, but to no avail.

He pauses in the doorway for a moment, contemplating letting you come with him, but that thought quickly diminishes and he shakes his head. He knows you’d be even more upset if you knew what he’s about to do. He glances at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The door shuts behind him and you drop to the ground, hard. Your knees smack on the tile, but you pay no mind as you scramble up towards the door. You try to tug on the handle but it doesn’t budge, as expected. You don’t even try to use your powers to open it, you know it won’t work, it never does. You pound your fists on the steel door, beginning to panic.

“No… no no no Peter please! Please don’t leave me here! I-I can’t- it’s dark and- I can’t do it- please!” Thankfully he’s still there, watching you with sad eyes through the glass panel.

“I know you’re mad at me, but I’m only doing this to protect you.”

You open your mouth to beg him again, but you’re cut off by the abrupt sound of yelling and gunshots. And just like that he’s gone from your view. You cry out, slamming your fists against the door until they’re bruised and bloody.

There’s no way. There’s no way any of this is actually happening right now. You pinch yourself, attempting to will the screams and gunshots away by waking up, but you don’t. This isn’t a dream, if anything it’s a living waking nightmare and you’re trapped in it.

Literally.

You bang on the door in one last attempt to be let out, before collapsing onto the floor in a heap of panic. It’s so loud, everything is so loud and the room is so small and you can’t fucking breathe. You find yourself scrambling back into the corner by the bed, covering your ears with your hands.

It feels like the room is closing in on you inch by inch, like you’re about to get crushed between the walls while the war outside rages on.

But then it stops. It all stops.

Not your panic, god no. If only it could be that easy, but you do hold your breath as everything outside the door— no everything in the facility stills. The screams have stopped, the echoing of bullets have faded, and all that’s left the sounds of your wheezing. You want to get up and peek outside the door but your legs aren’t exactly working right now.

But the silence must be a good thing right? Surely whatever caused the disturbance is gone?

All you can do is take deep breaths and hope that someone will find you soon, someone will come to your rescue and let you out of this godforsaken room. Those hopes however, are soon crushed as your eyes trail under the door, watching as blood begins to slowly seep under the crack.

Oh god.

Everything stopped,

Because everyone is dead.

Everyone is dead and nobody is ever going to know that you’re trapped in here. You’re going to be locked in this room forever, and nobody is ever going to find you. And Peter- Oh god what if he’s dead too?

A broken sob leaves your lips as you curl in on yourself, whole body trembling. You’re spiraling completely out of control, you can feel your heart hammering in your chest, against your ribs, in your throat, in your head. You can feel it in your ears, it doesn’t matter if you cover them, it doesn’t matter how hard you clench your jaw and push your hands against your ears, you can hear it.

Your breaths are quick, sharp— never really getting enough air. Your lungs burn. You feel dizzy. Fear clings to your chest, to your teeth, to your hands. You don’t even register the loud, broken cries that leave your mouth. Surely nobody will hear them anyway, what do you care?

Your vision blurs, fluttered and unfocused. Soon enough there are tears in your eyes, in your nose, in your throat. You’re crying, terrified, pulling the collar of your gown away from your skin, trying to get enough air in.

That’s how Peter finds you. He approaches the door carefully, wincing as he sees the body pressed up against the door, and hears your desperate cries from inside. He knows you’re claustrophobic, and he hated every second that he had to leave you in there, but once again, he had no choice.

He kicks the body of the guard away in disgust, before slowly pulling open the door. Light finally shines into the room, but you don’t even notice, too focused on trying not to pass out. He spots your trembling body in the corner, curled into the fetal position as you claw at your gown, trying to breathe properly.

“Oh sweetheart…” he sighs, stepping over the trail of blood leading into the room. Any other person would likely start panicking themselves after witnessing your state, but Peter has dealt with this a couple times before.

There was one time another orderly had gotten angry with you, and locked you in your room for the night. When Peter had found you the next morning, everything had been broken and likely thrown across the room. You had sat in the middle of it all in anguish, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks.

You hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep that night. He’d held you in his arms for roughly an hour that day, gently calming you down until you passed out from pure exhaustion. Peter was so angry. So angry that he wanted to kill that orderly with his bare hands for what he’d done to you.

Who could’ve known that it would eventually happen?

He gently kneels down in front of you, staying a few feet back as to not make you feel trapped. His eyes scan over your trembling form and he feels guilt wrack through his whole body. He begins to speak softly, trying to verbally pull you from your panic until you’re calm enough to be held,

“I know, I know you’re scared baby, but I’m here. Just breath and listen to my voice, I’m right here.“

Your face twists into one of confusion when you hear a voice. At first you think you’re imagining it, but it doesn’t go away. It’s muffled and far away, but then it gets louder, closer. In fact it’s beginning to sound like-

“You’re okay sweetheart.”

You snap your head up, tear-blurred eyes searching for the culprit like a deer in headlights, until they finally rest on the figure in front of you,

“P-Peter?” You choke out. It hardly sounds like your voice at all, it’s strangled and raw and it’s forced out between rapid breaths. He tries to hide the way he winces, providing you with a small smile instead, though you can hardly see it through your tears.

“It’s me darling.”

Normally he would have to ask you if you want to be held, but this time you don’t even give him the chance to. You quickly scramble up from your spot on the ground, before hurling yourself into his arms with a broken cry. Right now you don’t even care that he’s the reason you’re so distraught, you’re just glad that he’s okay.

He’s quick to wrap his body around yours, sitting against the wall and cradling you against him. You bury your face in the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, muffling your heartbreaking sobs, “I didn’t- I couldn’t- I thought you were d-de-”

He shushes you gently, cradling the back of your head as you weep into his neck. His other hand is placed on your back, his fingers slowly gliding up and down your spine.

“I’m okay, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” He turns, placing a kiss in your hair, “I need you to take some deep breaths for me though okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You try your best to follow his instructions, struggling for the first few minutes, but he’s patient with you. He so patient with you, in fact, that he lets your tears and snot stain his shirt. Though in hindsight that’s not saying much, considering it’s already covered in blood.

You finally manage to suck in a breath, and he praises you, continuing to guide you through it until your breathing is finally back on track. Your tears haven’t quite subsided yet as you pull back from his grip to face him, hands resting around his neck.

“W-why did you leave me?” You sniffle, “You know I can’t- I hate-” you can’t even get the words out before another sob wracks through your body.

“Shhh…” He pulls you back towards him, cradling your face in his hands as he rests his forehead against yours, “I know baby, I know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you here, but I had no other choice.” He grips your chin gently, lifting your head up so your eyes meet his, “You’re the most important thing in the world to me. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

You sniffle, nodding your head as you attempt to understand his reasoning, still not really understanding why he left in the first place. “I-I was so scared. I didn’t know if you were hurt…I-I thought I was gonna be stuck in here.” He’s shaking his head before you can even finish, wiping the tears from your face with the pads of his thumbs. He gently grasps one of your wrists, guiding your hand to his chest, placing it over his heart,

“You feel that?” He asks, and you nod, feeling the gentle thump of his heart beating against his chest. It’s calm, collected, like he knows everything is going to be fine, “I’m alright. I promise. I would never leave you alone if I didn’t think I would be okay.”

You nod again, sniffling as he continues to hold your hand in his, examining it. He frowns, seeing how beaten and battered it is, wasting no time to grab the other one, examining that one as well. He tuts, looking up at you in pity,

“You poor thing-” he lifts your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on each knuckle, before doing the same with the other one. Your heart flutters in your chest as he does. How he manages to be so calm and soft with you in a moment like this will forever baffle you. He’s always been like this with you, when nobody else was. He’s so sweet, and kind, and gentle, and-

He’s covered in blood.

You’re pushing away from him before he can even try to stop you. Your scramble up from the floor, backing yourself against the opposite wall.

“Whose blood is that?”

He stands, hands outstretched like he’s trying not to frighten a baby deer. “Darling-”

“Peter…whose blood is that?” You ask again, a frightened edge to your tone. He doesn’t answer you.

“Is that why you- you-” your breathing picks up again as you put two and two together, “Is that why you locked me in here? Did you do all this?”

“I did what I had to…” he confesses, carefully taking a step towards you.

“What you had to?!” You let out a hysterical laugh, “I don’t understand I-” you’re trembling again, thinking about all of the screams and the bodies that had been pushing past you not even 30 minutes ago. Are they all dead? Did they all spend the last few seconds of their life fearing the man in front of you? And what about-

“Oh my god Peter, the kids…”

“The kids are fine. They’re all safe.” He’s lying through his teeth, but he has to. If he doesn’t he’s going to lose you completely. You aren’t as strong as he is, you’re softer, more fragile. He has to take that into consideration, otherwise you’ll never forgive him, “They’re all safe in the rainbow room. I made sure of it.”

“But why?” You hiccup, “Why do all this? Why kill everyone?”

He clenches his jaw, wondering if you’re really ready to know. Although, with everything else going on, he figures it’s as good of a time as any. He reaches down, slowly rolling up the sleeve of his perfectly cuffed shirt. You squint your eyes to see what he could possibly be trying to show you and- oh my god.

Your face contorts into shock and you take a step closer to him, making sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You furrow your brows, glancing back and forth between it and your own tattoo, lifting your arm to compare them. Sure enough, his 001 perfectly matches the shape and size of the 002 on your wrist.

He watches you carefully, gauging your reaction. “That’s… not possible.” You whisper, and his eyebrow raises in slight amusement.

“No?”

You shake your head, so unbelievably confused. Your whole world- everything you’ve ever known has come crashing down on you in the last hour and you can feel your brain malfunctioning.

“Papa said-”

“That 001 isn’t real? That I don’t exist? That you’re the original?” It almost sounds like he’s taunting you, but when you look up he just looks sad, like he’s disappointed to be telling you this. “I’ve always been here, locked away in this godforsaken place. And I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m no story, I am very much real.”

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to process this new information.

“I was once free you know,” you look up at him, curious as to what he means, “I had a life outside of this place, a home. But then he took me away. He took me away from all of it when I was only a child.” He spits, beginning to circle you, as if he’s the predator and you’re his prey.

“He used me, tested on me; he didn’t care how much it would hurt.” You assume he’s talking about Papa. It isn’t news to you that he’s selfish, backstabbing man. “But then, he decided one of me wasn’t enough. He tried to copy me, clone me. And just like that, you were born. And eventually, there were seventeen others, who were all treated with respect- no painful tests, no beatings, no going hungry… and I was locked away. Forced to keep my identity a secret for so many years while…all the little brats got everything they ever needed.”

You flinch at his tone, and he stops behind you. You can feel his gaze eyeing you up and down, unsure if he’s upset with you or not. You’re startled when you feel his hand slip around you, cradling the side of your face, and turning your head to look at him over your shoulder. It’s an awkward position, but the intensity in his eyes is back, and you can’t force yourself to fight him.

“Except for you,” He hums, pressing his body lightly against yours. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks, not being used to this level of closeness with him, “You know what it’s like to be isolated, excluded, unappreciated… you’re different from them. You always have been.” You feel your eyes slowly slipping closed, not from exhaustion, more so letting yourself relax into him as he speaks, taking in every word.

“You’re so special, and much more powerful than the rest of them. Almost as powerful as me, you just haven’t realized it yet.” You don’t really believe it, but it feels nice to hear. It feels nice to finally have someone notice and appreciate you after all this time.

“I did this so I can be free again… so we can be free.” Your eyes peel open once more, confusion written all over your face. You? Free? That’s something you’ve never really known.

“Me?” You whisper timidly and he nods. You frown, spinning to face him, “You mean… we’re leaving?”

He nods again, a soft knowing smile resting on his face. Of course leaving would be scary for you. You’ve lived your entire life here, and now you’re being asked to leave it all behind for him. “I want you by my side.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, processing all of this. You’d never seen the outside world before, and frankly you’ve never given it much thought at all. But with Peter it couldn’t be so bad right?

“I-I don’t know if-”

He steps even closer, pressing his body completely against yours, and you’re cut off by your own surprised gasp as you look up at him. He smirks, seemingly knowing the affect he has on you.

“Oh but there’s so many things you’re missing out on sweetheart. So many things you’d never be allowed to experience here.” You gulp, widening eyes never leaving his as you chew on your bottom lip. Curiosity finally gets the better of you and you gather the courage to ask,

“Like what?”

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips as he leans down, gently cupping your cheek in his hand, “Like this,” he mumbles, before pressing his soft lips against yours. You can’t help but squeak in surprise as he kisses you, not really knowing what’s happening. He chuckles against your lips, wrapping his other hand around your waist, “Just follow my lead.”

You try you best to keep up, slowly beginning to get the hang of it. You’re loving the feeling of his lips on yours, never wanting it to end. You clench your fists a few times, not really knowing what to do with them, and he takes notice, gently guiding them up and around his neck.

His lips are soft and pillowy against your own, and a warm fuzzy feeling grows in your chest as he tugs you impossibly closer to him. He gently bites down on your bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours while the two of you catch your breath.

It isn’t until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed that you notice he’s moved the two of you backwards, and you fall onto the mattress.

He slowly crawls on top of you, placing kisses all over your face, your lips, cheeks, forehead, nose… and you’re a giggling mess underneath him. He slowly makes his way down your neck and to your collarbone, tugging on the collar of your gown to gain access.

“Mmm feels- feels so good Peter.” You don’t even think to stop the moans and whimpers that escape your lips while he gently suckles and bites your skin.

“Such pretty noises baby… and they’re all for me? What a sweet little thing you are.” He hums against your skin. Your eyes roll back, hips bucking up involuntarily at his words, and he cooes at you, “You like that hm? You like when I praise you? Such a good girl aren’t you?” You nod frantically, a whine leaving your lips. You don’t really know why you like it, or why you’re reacting like this, but you do know that you don’t want it to stop. You don’t want any of this to stop, no matter where it goes.

His hands slide down your body as he marks up the delicate skin of your neck, groping, feeling every inch of your gorgeous body. His fingertips finally reach the hem of your gown and he lifts his lips from your skin, examining the already fucked-out look on your face.

“Do you want me to take this off of you sweetheart?” He asks, gently tugging on the article of clothing. You look up at him, eyes blown out as you try to come up with a response, “What happens if you do?” You ask timidly.

He smirks, leaning down to peck a kiss against your cheek, “Well, then I’ll get to make you feel good.”

You squint at him, “But you’re already making me feel good?” You say, unsure if you meant for it to be a question or not. He chuckles at your naivety, touching his forehead to yours and pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Mmm but I can make you feel so much better than this. Is that what you want baby?”

You don’t even waste a second, nodding your head frantically, wanting nothing more than for him to give you pleasure. However he’s grabbing your chin lightly before anything else,

“Ah ah ah, let’s use our words. Wanna make sure this is actually what you want.”

And how could it not be? Sure, this is all brand new to you; it’s nerve-wracking and scary even… but it feels so good. There’s an intense pressure building between your legs, and you’d give anything for Peter to make it go away, to make it feel better.

After giving it maybe two seconds of thought, you’re nodding your head again as your lips part, “I-I want this. I want it Peter, promise.” He considers asking if you’re sure, but with the way your lips are pouted, and your eyes are so wide and blown out, he can tell you’re running out of patience.

“Okay sweetheart, okay.” He obliges, slowly lifting the hem of the gown up, helping you slide it up your body and over your head, disposing of it somewhere on the floor. His eyes rake up and down every inch of your exposed skin, taking you in. He practically drools at the sight of your breasts, reaching up to gently fondle them in his hands.

“Oh baby,” he watches as you preen underneath his touches, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”

You can’t even imagine how you must look to him right now. Laid underneath him in nothing but a pair of panties, chest heaving, eyes blown wide, and your mind so foggy and blissful as he begins to tug on your nipples. Your hips buck up yet again as he does so, and you react with a whine. You need him so bad, you need to feel him touching you all over.

He chuckles darkly, dipping down to place a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “I’ve got you baby.” One of his hands slowly trails down your tummy, making its way to the hem of your underwear. It startles you with how fast he dips his hand underneath the fabric, swiping two of his fingers through your folds. Your whole body jolts and you gasp in surprise. He slips his hand back out, observing the excessive amount of slick that coats his fingers.

“Mmm look at how wet you are darling, you’ve soaked through your panties entirely. What a messy little thing you are.” He places his fingers between his lips, moaning around them as he cleans his slick coated digits. You can’t help but watch, completely mesmerized by how dirty all of this is. He was right, this is something you’d never in a thousand years be able to experience if you were to stay here. Papa would have be so enraged…but you don’t have care about him. You don’t have to listen to Papa anymore.

He dips down between your legs again, both hands gently tugging your white panties down your legs. You almost feel embarrassed at the way he has to peel the cloth away from your soaked cunt, but he moans at the sight, instantly calming your anxieties.

He watches in awe as your messy cunt pulses, drooling from your tight little hole. He looks up at you, blowing cool air right onto your clit, watching in amusement as your pussy twitches and you whine. You look down at his position, feeling confusion feign through you once again, “What are you doing?” You squeak out, watching his eyes raise to meet yours again, amusement filling them.

“I’m going to make you feel good baby. But first-” He sits up just a little bit to gather your attention, “Hands above your head.” You squint at him, wondering why he could be asking such a thing of you right now. “You heard me darling, go on and put your hands above your head.”

You oblige, lifting them up and over your head, resting them against the pillow. He smiles, placing a delicate kiss you to inner thigh, and your hips buck again in pure desperation. “Good girl, now keep them there for me.”

You don’t have enough time to respond and ask why, before his mouth is on you, devouring your sweet little cunt. The sensation feels so foreign to you, yet is has you writhing around like a crazy person as he eats you out. You whimper and whine as he swipes his tongue from your hole up to your clit.

He loves how noisy you are as he makes out with your soaked cunt. Your moans fill the air as you take everything that’s he’s giving you, and the twisted part inside of him is so grateful that he’s the only one that can hear you. He can’t even stand the thought of someone else hearing you like this, some other guard pleasuring you between your legs as you writhe desperately.

No, these pretty noises and your body are his. All his, and nobody else’s. His tongue laps at your clit before flicking it through your folds, and looking up at you through his lashes. He dips his tongue down to your weepy hole, circling it around the entrance to taste you, and your back arches, grinding down into his face.

“Oh- Oh god Peter! Mmm feels good, feels so good oh fuck!”

That’s right, he thinks, moan my name while I take what’s mine. He knows just how good he’s making you feel, and he’ll continue to make you feel this good over and over again after you leave this place. He’ll have you weak at the knees with every gentle touch, ready to let him use you however he pleases. You’ll be his perfect little pet, needing him all the time, craving to be touched by him, tasted by him, filled by him-

But you’re not ready for that just yet. As much as he wants to see you writhe and moan like a perfect little slut while you take every inch of his cock, he doesn’t want to rush you into anything. This is all about you and your pleasure right now, not his. Though he does find it very pleasurable to be buried face first in your sweet little cunt.

You mewl as he swirls his tongue around your clit while gently suckling on it. Your hole continues to flutter and soak the sheets below you, so he can’t help it when he finds himself slowly rimming it with one of his fingers. He begins to push it inside of you, slowly pressing it in inch by inch, slowly lapping at your clit as he watches your whole body tense up, a broken cry escaping you.

“P-Peter!”

You’re so tight around his finger, and when he finally pushes it knuckle deep he cooes as your whole body trembles in ecstasy. You feel a coil in your lower tummy tightening dangerously, as you feel a high of sorts approaching. Your toes are beginning to curl and— oh god his mouth feels so good on you, sucking and devouring your clit like it’s his last meal.

The way he’s stretching you out on his finger feels otherworldly. If you’d have only known that this level of ecstasy was possible, you would have begged Peter for this a long time ago. And considering how much he’s enjoying this, you can’t help but wonder if he’s wanted this for a while as well.

You’re grinding your hips down to meet his tongue as high pitched whines and moans leave your lips. He can tell you’re getting close, and a wicked thought crosses his mind. He slowly curls his finger upward inside of you, and you cry out so loudly that your body snaps forward, and your hands are gripping his hair. You’re so close, chasing the high as you grip his hair between your trembling fingers.

But then it stops, and you’re pushed back down against the mattress by an unseen force.

“No!” You cry, tears instantly filling your eyes as all of the pleasure is ripped away from you, pulling you back from the edge you were teetering on, “No no no Peter- please!”

He hums waiting a moment to speak as he listens to your begging and whining. He knows how close you were to cumming, but you broke his rule and moved your hands.

“What did I tell you before I started?” He asks patiently, crawling back up your body, hovering over the top of you to see your face. You huff out shaky breaths as you try your best to think past your cloudy mind.

“I-I…I don’t- I can’t-” you stutter out, bottom lip wobbling as a few tears leak from your eyes, feeling everything becoming just a little too much for you.

“Shhh,” he shushes gently, wiping the tears from your face. His thumb moves to caress your temple and you hiccup, “Yes you can. Deep breath for me, c’mon.” You oblige, following his instructions as your chest rises and falls slowly, “You can do it sweetheart, what did I tell you before I started?”

“You-you said…” you press your eyes shut, trying to remember his exact words before he started eating you out so blissfully, “You said… to keep my hands up.”

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “My smart girl.” He mumbles, and your skin flushes a deep red at the praise.

“And do you know why I stopped?“ He continues, eyeing you carefully.

“Because I didn’t keep my hands up.” You grumble, he lets it slide for now, knowing you’re still a bit worked up.

“That’s right,” he strokes some of your hair from your face, “You didn’t listen, so I had to stop.”

The pout on your face only grows and you find yourself talking back to him, “But that’s not fair! It-it felt so good and I couldn’t help it! That was so mean and-” you’re cut off as he grips your chin, firmly squeezing your cheeks between his fingers.

“Hey,” he chides, “Where did this attitude come from hm?“

You don’t respond, you can’t really respond with the way he’s holding your face, but he can see in your eyes how your mood immediately shifts, melting for him once again.

“I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me? Cause you’re not being very good right now.” You whimper in response, nodding your head under his grip to show him that you wanna be good again, wanna be perfect for him.

“Yeah? You gonna be good again? Gonna stop giving me attitude?” He releases his grip on your face to let you speak, and you do, pleas falling from your mouth as you tell him just how good you’ll be.

“Think you can keep your hands up here this time baby?” He asks politely, tapping your wrists that rest above your head. You pause for a moment, before shaking your head, wanting to be honest with him.

“I-I don’t think I can…I wanna be good! Honest!” You rush out, “I just- I don’t think I can keep them here.” You pause, chewing on your lip as you try to think of how to ask the next part. Peter watches you closely, feeling like he already knows what you’re about to say, “Can you um- can you maybe help me?”

And god what kind of monster would he be if he didn’t oblige to you. The way you stare up at him through wide bleary eyes, the way you nervously chew on your trembling bottom lip, and the way you asked so sweetly…he can never say no to you.

“Since you asked so politely, yes sweetheart I can do that for you.” You sigh in relief as you feel him slowly climbing back down your body, situating himself between your legs once more. You feel a pressure against your wrists as they are pinned down above your head, and you whimper out a small, “Thank you.”

“Of course darling,” and with that his lips are attached to you again, tongue swirling around your clit mercilessly.

“A-Ah!” You cry out, unable to stop the way your legs are trembling around his head. The relief is so good, he’d left your poor cunt unattended and desperate for the last few minutes, and he intended to make up for it in every way possible.

His slips his finger back inside of you and you squirm underneath him, bucking your hips to fuck yourself on his digit. His finger continues to pump in and out of you as he devours your poor little cunt. Tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels.

You unintentionally try to move your hands every few moments, only to be reminded of the weighted pressure against them, as Peter keeps them constrained with his powers. The feeling of being pinned down beneath him as he pleasures you only makes everything more intense, and you can feel that familiar pressure building up once more.

Fear creeps in at the thought of him repeating what happened last time you felt that pressure building, and you begin to mindlessly beg, “Mmmm please don’t stop- god don’t stop Peter. I-I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good just please don’t stop.” You cry out, chasing your high again as you buck against his tongue.

And god he wouldn’t dream of it, in fact, he suckles on your clit even harder, slowly pushing another finger into your hole, desperately wanting you to come undone on his tongue.

The stretch around his fingers is what finally pushes you over the edge, and your back arches high as your orgasm tears through you like a white hot heat. You cry and your eyes roll back into your head as intense waves of pleasure shoot through your body. You’re rocking your hips desperately against his tongue, just riding it out.

He hums around your clit as you clench and pulse around his fingers, continuing to thrust them deep in your cunt as you ride out the high. He doesn’t stop until your back finally meets the mattress again, and your a panting sweating mess.

“God just look at you,” He slowly pulls his fingers from your hole, admiring the aftermath of your ruined pussy, “So good for me, look at how much you came.”

You whimper in response, letting his praise infiltrate your floaty, fucked out mind. You feel the weight let up on your wrists, but you keep them there, absentmindedly fearing his wrath. It isn’t until they’re lifted from their position, and gentle kisses are placed along your wrists that you open your eyes, meeting his fiery blue ones.

“There she is.” He smiles down at you, stroking your cheek. You smile back at him, still feeling floaty and euphoric.

“Hi…” you whisper, and he chuckles, admiring how cute you are like this.

“Hi.” He responds, utterly amused, “How was that?”

You hum in delight, nodding your head. “I don’t think I could ever get enough of that.” A smirk creeps onto his face at your answer, as he studies your naked body beneath him.

He’s done it, he’s finally done it. He’s going to leave this living hell, and he’s going to do it with you exactly where he wants you. Wrapped around his finger, and well, eventually his cock. And god he can’t wait for the day he’ll finally get to ruin and defile you.

“Peter?” You ask timidly, cutting off his thoughts. He hums in response, “Thank you.” You genuinely mean that, and he knows it.

“You’re welcome darling.”

Oh yeah, you’re his now, and he’s never letting you go.

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