#fic: miraculous escape | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slu7formen · 20 days

Text

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you’re back at camp after your quest with Luke, but your mind can’t seem to be able to forget what happened days ago like Luke has, and you’re in the need of a private conversation to clarify some things, and that’s all it has to be, a conversation… right?

part two to this fic <3

warnings: injuries, cursing, arguing, s3x, oral s3x (f receiving), non protected p in v, kissing, biting, slight fluff at the end, kinda dom!luke

lil taglist for those who asked for part two 🫶🏻: @pocototis , @amortiff , @angelfrombeneth , @niceskyler , @onegirlonewriter

₊˚⊹♡

Exhausted. That feeling was clinging to you and Luke like a second skin as you limped back into Camp Half-Blood with Percy and Annabeth at your side. The quest, a blur of adrenaline and monster-slaying, had been a success, but victory came at a price. Luke, his face pale despite the fading sunset, sported a nasty gash across his thigh, a souvenir from an unfortunate encounter with a particularly grumpy cyclop. You, on the other hand, cradled your right arm close to your chest, the throbbing pain in your shoulder escalating with every step.

Despite the aches and groans echoing within your small group, a sense of triumph resonated in the cheers that erupted from the campers milling about the Half-Blood Hill. Your arrival sparked a wave of excited chatter, a flurry of questions about the details of your adventure. The camp bustled with activity, a comforting normalcy after the chaos they'd faced.

"Whoa, guys, you look rough" Grover noted with concern as he approached you. He cast a worried glance at your injured arm.

The Apollo cabin had taken good care of you both. Lee Fletcher, the ever-patient son of Apollo, had fussed over Luke's wound with practiced ease, the gash healing miraculously fast under his ministrations.

"Luke, your cut isn't too bad" Lee declared to him, his voice calm despite the urgency in his eyes. "Just needs some ambrosia and nectar, and you'll be good as new."

You, however, were a different story.

"Dislocated and a hairline fracture" Lee had declared with a frown, his touch surprisingly gentle as he manipulated your injured shoulder back into place. "You've been harboring that injury for a few days now, haven't you?"

You winced, your face flushing slightly. Between the adrenaline rush of the quest and… what happened with Luke, your shoulder was the last thing you thought about besides the pain. "Uh, yeah" you stammered, ashamed even towards the younger camper.

Lee sighed, a hint of exasperation in his eyes, but he gave you a soft smile. “You´ll heal quick, don´t worry, but not as quickly as Luke. You'll have to stay a while longer."

Those "whiles" had stretched into two agonizing days. Two days spent staring at the whitewashed ceiling, the silence broken only by the steps of Apollo campers around you or at the Big House. The days blurred by in a haze of rest and ambrosia.

But you couldn´t stop thinking about Luke.

That-, thing that happened all of a sudden, a moment of raw emotion and desperate vulnerability, replayed endlessly in your mind. The memory of his touch, the warmth of his breath tangling with yours, sent shivers down your spine. It was a betrayal, not just of the rivalry that defined your relationship with Luke, but a betrayal of yourself. You weren't supposed to feel this way about him, the enemy, the bane of your existence.

But the morning after, you just acted as if nothing had happened, you never talked about it. The tension was your new best friend now, a suffocating weight that you couldn't seem to escape. How could you go back to the way things were after experiencing that spark of something —what felt like— more?

Frustration simmered within you. Ignoring what you both experienced felt like burying your head in the sand. Did it mean anything to him? Was it just a fleeting moment of desperation, a shared vulnerability in the face of danger?

Finally, the day arrived when Lee, with a practiced smile and a reassuring pat on your shoulder, declared you fit for duty. Relief washed over you, tinged with a nervous excitement. You practically stumbled out of the infirmary, the familiar sights and sounds of camp a welcome symphony after the sterile monotony of your confinement.

Your eyes scanned the crowded pavilion, searching for the shock of dark and braided hair that always seemed to set your nerves alight. You spotted Annabeth only because she ran to you as soon as she saw you. She pulled you in a hug that almost broke your bones.

"There you are!" she exclaimed. The concern etched on her face as if you had spent three weeks away from her. "How are you feeling? How’s your shoulder?”

“It´s good now, Lee took good care of it” you explained, walking back to the pavilion with her.

The well-wishes of the fellow campers offered a comforting sense of normalcy. Yet, your gaze remained fixed on the Hermes table, searching for a specific face.

"Where's Luke?" you finally asked Annabeth, a knot forming in your stomach.

"Right behind you” came the voice you knew too well.

He stood there, an unreadable mask plastered on his face. The air crackled with tension again, a contrast to the cheerful chatter surrounding you.

"I'm glad you're okay" he said, his voice flat. It was impossible to tell if he meant it or if it was simply a polite formality.

"Same thing" you replied, not really trying your best to put on show for the rest of the campers, or him.

A curt nod was all the reply you received, the gesture felt like a handshake from a stranger. He then turned and walked away, disappearing back to the Hermes table where his half-siblings awaited him.

You settled down at your own table, the clatter of silverware and chatter a welcoming difference to the sterile silence of the infirmary. You reached for the so sacred mashed potatoes you loved, but your appetite seemed to have vanished. Your gaze kept flitting towards the Hermes table, drawn to the mop of dark hair that seemed to defy gravity. He was there, talking with his half-siblings, a faint smile playing on his lips. Sometimes his gaze drifted towards you, his had features tightening, before he quickly looked away. Other times, you'd find his face turned elsewhere, lost in conversation with Chris or the Stoll brothers, who sat in front of him.

One of your cabin half-sisters leaned over, her voice filled with excitement in your ear. "There's supposed to be a party in the woods tonight. Wanna come?"

The temptation was strong. A night of revelry with your friends sounded far more appealing than dwelling on the awkwardness with Luke. But you shook your head instead. "Nah, I think I'll pass," you said, trying to sound casual.

Truth be told, your brain was working with the precision of a well-oiled machine. A hidden party meant curious campers, prying eyes. What you needed was a private conversation, a chance to finally address the elephant in the room.

As the campers began to disperse after dinner, Taking a deep breath, you made your way towards the Hermes table. Most of the campers had already vacated, leaving only a few lingering stragglers. Luke sat alone, a half-eaten plate of food pushed to the side.

His gaze flicked up as you approached. “Ugh. What do you want?” he asks, voice coated with venom.

“Wow, you really are a sweetheart” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “We need to talk”

“What about?” he asked with indifference.

“You know damn well what about” you declared. “Or do you want me to say it, here, how you basically came all over your pan-…?”

“Don´t” he jumped out of his seat, voice dangerously angry and threatening. He looked around, secretly wishing no one around heard you. “Fine. Meet me at the back of my cabin at midnight. I´ll be there”

“Good” you stammered, walking away before anyone else could hear you or see you standing in front of Luke Castellan, talking, for more than five minutes.

The thin wind hit your bare face as you approached Cabin Eleven. The glow from the windows had long been extinguished, replaced by a deep silence that accentuated the nervous pounding in your chest. It was past curfew, a risk you wouldn't normally take, but the need to talk to Luke outweighed the consequences. After all, most campers managed to sneak out for a forbidden rendezvous, why wouldn't you be able to manage a few cabins?

Hugging the shadows, you crept past the silent cabins, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Reaching Cabin Eleven, you tiptoed towards the back of it, the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your sneakers a sound far too loud in the stillness of the night.

There, leaning against the wall, stood Luke. His arms were crossed over his chest, head down and apparently, lost in thought as he waited for you. Despite the outward facade of coolness he always emerged –or so he tried—, you swore you could detect a flicker of nervousness beneath the surface, a tremor in his gaze that mirrored your own churning emotions.

"Hey" you greeted him softly.

He pushed himself off the wall, arms still crossed over his chest. "Hey. About time."

You rolled your eyes. “I am on time, dumbass”

For a moment, he seemed to be struggling internally, debating the appropriate course of action. Should he maintain his usual bravado, the cocky smirk you hated so much? Or should he shed that facade, acknowledge the vulnerability of the situation, and let it go?

"How's that shoulder?" he finally asked, gesturing towards your shoulder with his chin.

"Good as new" you replied, unconsciously shrugging your shoulder to prove your point. "How's your leg?" you asked, returning the question.

"Fully healed" he mumbled, looking down at his thigh.

The small talk felt forced, the words hanging awkwardly between you. You both knew why you were there, but the silence seemed to scream louder than any accusation. Finally, Luke cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable tension.

"Wanna come in?" Luke finally asked, surprising you.

You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly. "In?" you repeated.

He nodded, his gaze flicking nervously around the clearing. "It's safer than… well, you know, someone seeing us" he muttered, trailing off. The implication was clear – safer than being caught outside after curfew, safer than prying eyes and whispers.

You considered it for a moment. It made sense. This conversation needed privacy, and venturing deeper into the night, risking further trouble, didn't seem wise.

With a silent nod, you gestured for him to lead the way. You walked towards the front door, slipping inside the cabin in your tippy toes, Luke closed the door softly behind you, plunging the room into near darkness. The silence was thick, and loud. The stage was set for a conversation that could change everything.

"Okay, shoot" Luke finally said, his voice gruff.

"What?" you replied, thrown off guard by his brusqueness.

"What do you mean 'what'?" he countered, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "You wanted to talk. So do it. Speak."

His words felt almost like a demand, and irritation sparked within you. The confident, charming facade seemed to have crumbled, leaving him exposed – unsure and flustered. While your battle-hardened self might have found humor in his discomfort, just like it did when he basically walked in on you half-naked, right now, it just felt frustrating.

"Don't you have anything to say either?" you challenged. "Am I the only one who wants to talk about what we did?" It was hard to believe that the usually eloquent Luke Castellan, the golden boy, was now speechless.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with frustration. "Well..." he began, sinking down onto his bed. He hesitated for a long moment, searching for the right words. "It was definitely... something" he finally came out with, his voice barely a whisper.

Gods, was he really this bad at expressing himself? A groan escaped your lips, and you buried your face in your hands in exasperation. "This was a fucking mistake, gods" you muttered, your voice muffled. "Forget I even came here, Castellan." You spun on your heel, heading towards the door, the need to escape this awkward conversation overwhelming.

Your hand reached for the doorknob, ready to walk out and face the consequences of curfew later, rather than deal with this frustrating silence. But before you could turn the handle, a warm hand clamped onto your wrist.

Luke spun you around, his eyes pleading despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Don't go” he groaned, clearly frustrated with himself. "It's just – you can't expect me to speak normally to you when that isn't the relationship we have, you know?"

He was right. Your rivalry, for better or worse, defined your dynamic. What you did, that heated and uncontrollable moment that was one of the best sexual experiences that you ever had, had shattered the status quo, leaving you both scrambling for a new footing.

Your silence dominated you, quite a big difference to the nervous energy that had crackled between you moments ago. Luke's words echoed in the room, leaving you both grappling with the reality of the situation. He walked back to his bed, he knew now, you would stay.

With a defeated sigh, you walked over to his bed and stopped in front of him, hesitant to intrude further on his personal space by sitting next to him. "Luke, do you regret it?" you finally asked.

He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous gesture that mirrored your own churning anxieties. "I don't know" he mumbled, his gaze dropping to his lap. A beat of silence followed, then he said, almost defensively, "But I can't deny that I... I liked it" he blurted out, almost comically frustrated.

"It's just that I never thought I would do something like that with you” he continued, his voice dropping back to a hushed tone. "Do you regret it?"

You shrugged your shoulders, still grappling with your own tangled emotions. “I mean… When it was happening," you started, searching for the right words, "I enjoyed it. But right now, with all the aftermath, I don't think I feel 'proud' of it exactly."

"You're not answering my question, yn." he said, a touch of annoyance creeping back into his voice.

"I don't know if I regret it, Luke, okay?" you admitted, frustration tinging your voice. "It's just… confusing."

The silence returned, this time heavier than before. The playful banter had faded, replaced by a deeper, more complex silence that spoke volumes about the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in. You decided to push the conversation further.

"Is this going to change things now?" you asked, your voice laced with a hint of apprehension.

Luke let out a loud, almost bitter laugh. "Why do you care? You hate me anyway" he said, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "This is the perfect excuse to not talk to me ever again."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Hate you? I don't hate you" you declared, taken aback by his accusation. "I wouldn't be here if I hated you."

"Don't like me then?" he countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, not exactly" you mumbled, cheeks flushing a warm heat. "But don't say I hate you. That's not true."

There was a surprised silence from Luke. Maybe he hadn't expected that answer. "Then what is it?" he finally asked, his voice raising up a little, laced with a hint of curiosity.

Frustration bubbled up inside you. "You!" you blurted out, pointing at him. "It's you, it’s you because we never get to have a regular conversation without arguing, because you started this whole picking on me things and it’s been like this ever since we were fourteen, Luke! And I know you and I are pretty good at ignoring each other, but this…" you gestured vaguely between the two of you, "this isn't something we can just sweep under the rug. It's not something we can just pretend never happened.”

"Then what do we do with it?" he continued, his voice trembling slightly in anger "I told you I liked it" Luke repeated, his voice tinged with annoyance. "What else do you want me to say!?"

"It's not what I want you to say!" you yelled back, your voice rising in volume. "It's what I want you to do!"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "And what is exactly that!?"

The words tumbled out before you could think, a desperate plea fueled by confusion and a strange sense of longing.

"Fucking kiss me!"

The words echoed in the cramped silence of the cabin, and a blush flooded your cheeks as soon as they left your lips. You hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the tension, the confusion, the simmering emotions within you – it all came spilling out in a torrent of honesty.

Luke stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, you thought you might have crossed a line, shattered the fragile truce that had formed between you.

He rose from the bed with a slow, predatory grace. You were standing so close that when he stood to his full height, you were chest-to-chest with him. His dark eyes locked with yours, and you felt small.

"So that's it?" he continued, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "That's why you're so worked up? You just want me to kiss you?"

His words, though seemingly lighthearted, stung. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting desire, a moment of impulsive rebellion? The anger you'd felt earlier flared anew, threatening to consume you.

"Is that all you think this is about, Castellan?" you spat, your voice shaking slightly. "Just some physical need?"

"That´s not what I meant" he drawled, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I know that if what happened left you with a physical need, you could go to anyone else. But you came to me, didn´t you?”

You wanted to punch him, to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. But a strange sense of honesty held you back. He was right, again. The truth was, a part of you didn’t crave just a taste of his lips, but something else, like an unexpected connection that went further more than physical. You didn’t know where it came from, or when, or why, you just felt it and thinking about it just felt right.

With a shaky breath, you tilted your head up, a silent answer to his question. Your lips brushed against his, breaths twirling together once again. He didn't hesitate or hold back this time. A low groan escaped his lips as he leaned down, his hands finding their way to your waist. His touch sent a jolt of electricity sparking through you, making your knees weak.

And the he kissed you.

It started slow, tender, almost reverent. He explored your lips with a newfound gentleness, as if savoring the feel of them against his. It spoke of exploration, of a tentative truce blossoming into something more. You wanted to feel him, to erase the line that had always separated you.

But then, as if a dam had broken, the kiss deepened. The tenderness melted away, replaced by a desperate urgency. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the soft contours of your cheeks. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your body. The kiss became a whirlwind of emotions – confusion, desire, the thrill of the forbidden.

You noticed the way his breath started to hitch. How whenever he had to fill his lungs with air, he would make sure it was just the necessary amount to kiss you back again. He didn’t want to forget the taste of your lips.

His kisses then started to start a slow, agonizing pace towards your neck. Right under your ear, over your pulse, on dip your collarbone; every hot kiss he placed only made your body unconsciously stick closer to his, head logging back in pleasure as your breaths became hitched too, turned into small gasps and little moans, all caused by the boy that got you on your nerves.

“Y-you haven’t answered my question” you suddenly said.

Luke was too concentrated on attacking your neck to even care looking at your face, but he still answered. “What question?”

“If you’re a virgin”

He could’ve stop right there, he could be mad at you for being so insistent, he could just go and leave you there, hot and bothered with your swollen lips and red neck attacked by his own lips, but he stayed. He stayed while his forehead rested against yours, catching his breath while his broad shoulders went up and down. His own skin was already sprayed with a thin layer of sweat, glistening by the only little peak of a curtain that didn’t fully covered the outside light.

“I’m not” he declared, hands dripping down to your hips. “But I’m not as experienced as you may think”

You nodded slightly. “And, do you-, would you like to experience a little more?” you asked.

See, you had a little problem. You didn’t realize how dangerous words could be, or how it could affect the other person until those words came out of your mouth, and you felt so stupid afterwards. So stupid you wanted to snap your fingers and let the ground swallow you whole and spit you right at the center of the Tartarus.

Luke chuckled. “Are you seriously asking me to fuck you?”. He asked it so casually, so calmly, that if only he had asked you with the tiniest bit of flirt, of teasing, you would’ve handled it easier.

Your blood rushed to your cheeks. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re still so surprised” you try to laugh it off “Look what we’re doing”

“You’re right” he nods. “Yes. I would like to know what it is like to do what we did. No clothes this time”

He didn’t even let you think of an answer. His lips placed over yours again, but only for a brief moment before he started trailing down your throat. His curls tickled your chin, and his nose bumped constantly against the places he kissed. The tiny touch of the tip of his tongue with every kiss left behind a wet trail of saliva that started to go down, down, and down.

Even though he requested no clothes, your t-shirt didn’t seem to bother him at all. He pressed your lower body closer to his when he kissed your sternum. You didn’t know if it was because he genuinely knew how to make a girl feel good, or because it was simply him, but even over the fabric, his lips felt like fire against your skin, and you felt the goosebumps covering your arms.

Maybe it was both things.

He kept kissing until he sat down on his bed again. Your hands crept up his neck, just to have somewhere to hold, you needed to touch him. His neck, his hair, his back, everything.

His hands pushed up your t-shirt and as soon as he had the tiniest bit of skin visible, he attacked it. Just kisses everywhere. His lips were hot and wet, something that only added you both a immense pleasure. You hissed when his teeth took a slight grip of your hipbone, but the slight burning feeling it left behind made you release a stupid sound from your lips, a soft, small and broken whimper.

“Sorry” he said. He looked angelical like that; lips glistening, brown eyes looking up at yours, chin resting on your tummy. You could stay like this forever. “It’s just, you’re-” his fingers buried themselves at your sides. “You’re unreal”

You smirked. You knew this vulnerable and submissive state Luke was at would only last a second, but knowing that you were the one he would float up his surface for, how it made you feel, it was powerful. But you didn’t wanna be, you wanted him to crave you. You’ve been playing this game for way too long, it was time for Luke Castellan to prove what he could do.

You placed your hands over his, feeling your own small and delicate compared to his veiny and big ones. You pulled his calloused palms up your torso, the fabric of your t-shirt tangling in his fingers. He caught the message real quick, pulling your t-shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor carelessly.

He looked momentarily stunned, with parted lips and all. He felt dumb too. This was his second time seeing you like this —except that when he did for the first time, you weren’t wearing shorts—, but something about it was different now. A hundred explanations rushed his brain a second; the lighting, the shorts, the color of your underwear, your hair. Maybe even the fact that you looked so close, but so unreachable.

You didn’t let him stare for too long, forearms crossing over his shoulders as you, once again, sat over his thighs. You didn’t have to lead him into anything this time, he pulled you by the waist even before you finished sitting on him.

He hissed when you rolled your hips once, hands flying to your sides to stop you. “Don’t do that” he said in a low tone. He knew you were just teasing him, but he really didn’t want to deal with you right now, not in that way.

You stopped, it was hard not to when he applied so much force on you that his biceps flexed and his veins popped out. And that reminded you the lack of your clothes, and the excessive amount of his.

His white t-shirt was long forgotten after if joined your own on the floor. He leaned back, hands resting over the mattress as your hand trailed down his torso; a bumpy ride down his body that was strangely appealing to your eyes. You hadn’t seen Luke shirtless before, and that reminded you, why hadn’t you seen Luke shirtless before?

The man was hot.

He seemed to enjoy the way your eyes roamed down his body way too much, also how you suddenly held your breath. He might’ve kept it a secret, but he saw and noticed everything. His hand reached out to cup your breast. “Pretty” he whispered, knuckles caressing the lacy fabric that covered you. He didn’t have to be a genius to realize how that instantly made your skin shiver, most specifically your back, that arched towards his feather-like touch.

He pushed himself up, lowering his head towards your chest. He took your bra in his teeth, pulling the fabric aside just enough for his tongue to lick over your nipple. You moaned, the sudden feeling taking you by surprise. He didn’t want to behave this softly, so tender, so stupidly careful. He needed more.

He repeated his action with your other breast, a tight and strangled moan escaping from your throat. He groaned lowly at your own sounds, discovering a new way of basically communicating with you; if you liked it, he liked it.

His arms wrapped around you with ease, lifting you up just enough for him to place you ever his bed, his body covering yours as his hands placed along your sides. His pulled your thighs apart with one knee, then pressing it against your core.

“Ah, Luke” you moaned out, eyes shutting at the feeling, too good to let it pass.

“Shit, baby” he cooed. His eyes scanned your body under his, the way it rolled so delicious and delicately as you tried your best to push yourself further into his knee, desperate for some friction. “Can I go down on you?” he blurted out.

You opened your eyes, leaning into your elbows on the bed, eyes piercing his. “You want to?” you ask.

“If I’m fucking you, I’m doing it right”

And your shorts disappeared in a second. He moved your panties aside with a hook of his fingers, and suddenly a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

He was seeing you vulnerably and literally open to him now. You felt too self conscious. You were screwed. Your arousal left a wet patch on the inside of your panties; what a sight for eyes like Luke’s. You felt his thumbs slowly pulling your lips apart. He was taking his oh so sweet time with it, and you didn’t know if you loved it or hated it.

You let out a surprise moan when his tongue laid flat against your cunt. He moaned against it instantly, the vibration sending a different type of pleasure. His big arms wrapped over your thighs, providing you of any movement except for the ones he wanted you to do. He ate you out like a starved man; and yes, it sounds cliche, but you never experienced something like this before.

He was so slow with it, yet so deep. He wouldn’t let any drop coming out of you go to waste, he wanted it all. He sucked on your clit, hard, but quickly let go to continue his task on your hole again, tongue slipping in and out. The only time he took a break, was to slightly lift his head up and spit down at you. It was already wet enough, but the cold saliva, falling directly to your clit, only made you want more.

You grabbed his head with both hands, pushing him down against you, and he didn’t complain a bit, mouth instantly opening again to let his tongue dance around you.

“Yes, yes, yes” you moaned, chest heaving up and down. The sounds that came out of Luke’s mouth against your pussy were disgusting; wet and dirty, and you would’ve never guessed you actually liked it better this way. He actually acted like he needed you, and you noticed, because you saw the tiny bit movements he made with his hips against the sheets. “Gods, Luke, don’t stop”

Maybe this was not the perfect time to praise any of the gods above, but you couldn’t help it, you didn’t even know what words came out of your mouth, none really, just little sounds that escaped from your lips like oil, slipping down unconsciously.

Luke felt too good, better than you had expected. Not experienced as you might think? You could easily believe he lied to your face.

The moment he pulled away one of his fingers slipped in between your folds. His fingertip grazed over your sensitive bud, making your body jolt once. You heard him breath out a laugh.

Then he pulled in, slowly, and a second finger joined easily. You grabbed the sheets by your sides, arching your back and letting a moan of relief out. You felt him lean his cheek on your inner thigh. “If you’re this tight on my fingers, can’t imagine what you will feel like when I fuck you”

He could simply cum in his pants again just by the sight of you; legs spread open around his head, his fingers pushing inside you at a perfect pace, your pussy glistening with his saliva. Your moans sounded pornographic, almost too good to be true. He managed to not do it though, he managed to focus on you and only you, on the way your hips rolled, on what made you squirm the most, what made you whine louder.

His fingers scissored inside you. Your moan was guttural when he eventually started to move faster, his wrist started to quickly feel tired, but how could he give up so easily on you?

Your eyes rolled back. He just treated you so good. He knew just when to curl his fingers, stuff them deeper inside you, or just removing them from inside your pussy to focus on your clit, softly drawing circles over it. He knew how torturous it was, almost as torturous as that night, in the motel, in which you couldn’t stop moving over him; wouldn’t stop. He deeply wanted you to stop, but not because he didn’t like it, but because he wanted more, and right now, you wanted more, and he was well aware of it.

“Fuck me already, Luke”

“What’s that?” he asks, head tilting, a cocky smirk on his face. His fingers were still moving around your clit.

You managed to focus your eyes on him, fire illuminating your eyes. He looked so fucking perfect. Shirtless, a thin layer of sweat over his muscles, his camp necklace softly hanging over his collarbone, his fingers covered in your wetness.

“Fuck me, please” you whined, too desperate for your own liking.

He stopped touching you and crawled over you again, his camp necklace dangling over your face. His hand squeezed your cheeks before he stamped his lips on you once again. He swallowed your moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. “So fucking needy, huh? Fuck, look at you” his eyes roamed down your body like a hunter stalks his prey. “All ready for me”

He praised you as if you were a goddess, which was not far from true but, he was not scared to admit how much he would worship you if he had the chance.

You reached out for his sweatpants, pulling them down below his ass before taking his cock in your hand. He squeezed his lips and groaned, eyes flitting shut at the feeling of your hand stroking him over his boxer. Even over the fabric, you felt how warm it was, how hard he had gotten. “I can tell you’re ready too, big boy” you teased.

He didn’t really know where his sweatpants fell, taking them fully out along with his underwear and throwing it somewhere in the darkness of the room. His dick smacked on his stomach, and you lifted your head to peak just a little.

And yes, as you expected, he was big. Not monstrously big but, fair enough to feel a little bit scared of whether is it gonna hurt or not. His tip was so red, you highly doubted he would last long enough before cumming.

“Shit, wait” he said, looking around, brows suddenly frowning in worry. “I don’t have a condom”

You laughed. “So?” you asked. His worried expression was replaced by a confused one. “I don’t mind”

“You don’t?” he blurted out.

“Just pull out. It’ll be fine” you assured with a warm smile. He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of worry still pang in his insides. “Hey” you called out, sitting straight and placing one hand behind his neck. “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay. You don’t have to be scared. If you don’t like it, we can stop, okay?” you whispered.

It seemed as if he wanted to say something, but he only limited himself to nod, letting the invisible weight of his shoulders fall off. You pulled him towards you, mouth quickly letting his tongue in as you fell onto the mattress again.

One of his hands started to trace delicate figures on your waist, stopping at your ribs to squeeze tightly as he lets the tip of his cock brush against you. He strangled a moan before aligning himself and you lift your hips slightly. His own hips start to move forward, slow. You gasp at the stretching, stealing Luke’s last breath before he let his forehead collapse on the crook of your neck.

You squeezed him fully, tighter every time another inch entered inside you. When you felt the base of his cock against you, he moaned out against your skin once, then his shoulders started to go up and down as he breathed heavily. “How do you feel this good when I haven’t even started yet?” he asked, more to himself that to you.

You tugged on his curls, forcing him to get away from your neck and look into your eyes. “And what’s taking you so long?” you whisper.

He took his bottom lip in between his teeth as he began to pull out just as slow as he had pushed in. He only let the tip of his cock in before moving forward again. You hugged him, his muscles clenching at the touch of your fingertips on his shoulder blades. He started agonizingly slow, but it felt so good. It was so intimate, not only because of the fact that your legs tangled on his lower back and you pulled him in with your heel, but because suddenly, a warm embrace hugged you both. The sudden feeling of hugging him tighter when he started to move faster, and his need to let his fingers mark over your thighs, tightly gripping on the flesh when you moaned into his ear, something about the lines of going faster and how good it felt. He doesn’t remember.

He wanted to keep you like this forever, his legs thrown around his waist, your pussy sucking him in every time he pulled out, your moan and whimpers in his ear, your hands touching him everywhere. Your hands felt so good, so smooth over his rough skin, over his scars. He wanted to kiss them, every single knuckle, massage them, hold them forever. He wanted to keep you forever. Your embrace, your laugh, your voice, your feelings. He wanted you to open yourself to him, to feel safe around his arms, to know that he would always be there, no matter what you need him for.

“You’re greedy, baby. Aren’t you?” he teased in your ear. He whispered so low that your back arched at the sound. “Yeah, like that. Just sucking me right back in, huh?”

You felt speechless. You were. Also, it was hard to speak when he was pounding into you like an animal, grunts and moans filling the room despite the soaked slapping of skin to skin. He tugged at your hair, pulling down and forcing yourself to push your head back further into his pillow. His tongue flattened against the base of your neck, licking all the way up to the back of your ear. Even though you didn’t see him, you felt him smirk. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this for. Wanted to fuck you ever since you wore that fucking dress to the fireworks”

Oh, the dress.

Fourth of July at camp. Well, it got lots of compliments. How pretty it looked on you, how it showed off your curves, how the color fitted you nicely, how you managed to find the perfect shoes to combine them with. And yes, you had noticed that Luke’s stare towards you was intense. He was staring, jaw clenched and his stupid face towards your directions at all times, head following you wherever you went. But you would’ve never guess that a simple white dress, was gonna start it all for him and the painful ache in his cargo pants.

If you knew, you would’ve wore it before. And more frequently.

“Luke” you moaned out when he particularly pushed too deep inside you.

“Say it. Say my name again” he demanded, hand squeezing in between your bodies to touch your clit again, smacking it with two fingers, stealing a high pitched whimper from your lips. He started his expert circles around it again. You tried your best to do as he said, but the pounding of his cock inside you, the skin slapping and the sensitive touch of his fingertips over you was driving you crazy.

You finally managed to call his name, over and over again, like a prayer. He felt too good when you did so, slamming harder against your body when his hand movement became sloppy, stopping momentarily only to start again.

In a swift, blurry motion, he placed both hands on the mattress on the side of your head, pulling himself up and his cock out of you. You covered your face to muffle your screams when he started to rub himself on your clit. The tip of his cock hurt against you, rubbing over you again and again and again. It was fast, not giving you enough time to recover before his red tip caressed over your clit again.

This felt much better than any other feeling you felt with him, maybe even replaced by the feeling of his cock stretching you out. But this, something you never tried before, made your walls clench around nothing and your clit scream in agony, the warm feeling in your belly only growing more and more with each thrust of his hips.

His movements stopped as abruptly as his moans. You only heard him release a held back moan when he let his hips thrust once more, and you felt his warm load fall over your stomach just at the same time that you came. It reached so high up that you immediately felt out of breath, chest heaving up and down as Luke cursed under his breath, and his cum kept dripping down over you.

He would’ve collapsed over your body, but he didn’t wanna get you all dirty. It was a dumb though, considering the fact that you were sweaty, hair messy, lips parted as you cursed too, and a very slight signal of tears in your eyes. You were destroyed, and he was too.

“Wait here” he pointed at you with one finger, carefully climbing down his bed and putting on his boxers, disappearing in the darkness. He later came back with paper towels, taking the first one and folding it, cleaning the parts of your body that were left behind with him on it.

He cleaned himself after, hissing at the sensitivity of his head, before throwing the dirty wipes to a small bin. He hopped on the bed again, arm throwing around your waist as he pulled you closer. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

He kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips, your collarbone, leaving behind his mark on you. He placed two of three kisses on your shoulder as his hand circled your lower back, before playfully biting on it.

“Stop” you pushed him on the chest. “You’ll get me all marked up”

“What if I wanted to?” he asked, head falling down on the pillow. His eyes twinkled when he looked at yours. “Would you let me?”

“Depends. Will we still pretend we don’t like each other?”

He snorted. “Who said I like you now?”

“Ha-ha” you panted, staying silent for a moment. Your finger traced his features, so harsh yet so delicate. His jawline, his nose, his cheeks. His scar. You let your thumb softly touch it, Luke’s eyes closing as you do, sighting at your warm touch. You knew how much he hated it, how much he wanted people to avoid looking at it, how embarrassed he felt about it. You never truly understood why. Yes, he failed his quest but, it gave him such a different type of look. Brave, warrior-looking, fearless, hot. “I like it” you whispered.

“Don’t lie to me” his voice changed, a sudden dark, sad tone.

“No, I mean it” you blinked fast, concerned at his mood change. “It makes you… pretty”

He would’ve expected any word, any. Badass, tough, bad boy-looking. But pretty? He wasn’t prepared for it. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks, shiny dark eyes piercing yours.

“And a pain in the ass, sure”

He let out a laugh, you joined him. It was a soft symphony that momentarily filled the room with wholesome energy. “So what now?” he asked. “What are we?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know” your fingers played with the little wooden pendants of his necklace. “We don’t need to know it now, though”

“But I don’t wanna pretend I don’t like you either” he explained. “ ‘Cause this is actually kind of fun”

“Kind of?” you asked, tilting your head. Luke rolled his eyes.

“Okay, it’s the best sex I’ve had so far” he admitted.

“Thaaank you” you replied. He laughed again, less this time, but still managed to crack a smile. He didn’t know he could smile this much with you. “And, you don’t have to worry about pretending. We don’t have to”

“No?”

“No” you shook your head. “Let it be. Let ‘em think what they want. We were sent on a quest, something happened and now, we’re friends”

His signature grin marked on his face. “Friends?” he asks.

You gulp, visibly flustered now. And yes, friends. Friends who lay in bed naked, friends who fuck, friends who kiss, friends who dirty talk to each other, friends who break curfew to find themselves making out in the most remote places at camp, friends who stare, friends who care. So, yes; “Friends” you assure.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x you #pjo smut #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

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There’s No Escape (Part 1)

Summary: You are going through a rather nasty breakup as you escape your ex-boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away on a top secret government assignment. You move to a completely new state in hopes he won’t find you. You clearly underestimated his determination because he has no intention of letting you go.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 1.1k (Next part should be longer! Wanted to get story building stuff out of the way before getting to the good stuff ;) )

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

A/N: @dollrxst, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ghostkennedy, @lipglossanon and like a bunch of others who’s fics I’ve consumed and have been inspired by, this is all your fault and I’m not even mad about it. Please excuse grammatical errors and such, it’s been a hot second since I’ve written stuff like this. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was now or never.

Leon Scott Kennedy, your soon to be ex-boyfriend, is away on some top secret government assignment and isn’t due back for about three days. You had been seeing each other for about six months and he insisted you move in with him after three months. He seemed wonderful at first, but living with him proved to be way more than you had signed up for.

He was bat shit insane.

You weren’t sure if it was due to unaddressed trauma from his line of work or whatever but his controlling and sick nature was ludicrous to you. He was controlling, manipulative and sick in the head. His idea of fun was holding a knife to your throat while fucking the absolute shit out of you. That was just the tip of the iceberg on the things he forced you to do for his pleasure.

Anything you absolutely could not live without was getting stuffed into your little Jeep Renegade. If it didn’t fit, it was getting left behind because you had absolutely no intention of coming back. Clothes, toiletries, some of your books, your video game console and games, a couple pillows and some sheets all got stuffed in. When you were confident you had everything essential for your impromptu move, you closed the back hatch on the Renegade and grabbed your purse, phone and car keys from the kitchen counter, making sure to leave the copy of the apartment key you miraculously found behind. You lock the apartment door and shut it. You lean up against it and take a deep breath before you rush back down to your car. You had a long ride ahead of you; Washington D.C. to Boston was about a 9 hour drive.

It was now or never; you weren’t about to squander this opportunity to escape.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was dark by the time you finally arrived in Boston. You navigate the confusing winding streets and find your apartment that you got with your best friend, Becky. You see her come out of the front door as you pull up in your car and park. You see her wave as you step out.

“Hey, you made it! I trust you had a good ride,” she inquires.

“Yeah, long as hell, sorry I’m so late. What time is it?”

“It’s like 9:30, come on in! I ordered pizza for us,” she says, motioning you in.

You grab your purse, keys, phone and one of the pillows you had stuffed into your car and go inside the apartment. You decide you can unload your stuff in the morning. The kitchen is the first room you end up in and you set your stuff down on the small island before stumbling your tired legs into the living room where the smell of pizza was calling your name. You practically collapse in a reclining chair after grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table. You let out a loud sigh of relief. You made it. You escaped.

“How are you feeling?” Becky asks before taking a bite out of her slice of pizza.

You finish chewing on yours and swallow hard, “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I’m honestly surprised I’m not dead from some of the bullshit Leon pulled.”

Becky shifts nervously on the couch. She was the only person you confided in about your sick, demented ex-boyfriend. You didn’t even tell your parents, you didn’t want to worry them.

When you moved in with Leon, he forced you to quit your well paying I.T. job and forbade you from ever leaving the apartment alone. He took your phone away, but you found ways to sneak it back so that you could at least contact Becky. You didn’t want to think about the things he made you do; it was an absolute miracle you weren’t dead or pregnant from the amount of abuse you endured.

“He hasn’t contacted you yet, has he?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you lean back in the recliner, “nah, he won’t be back from whatever assignment he’s on for another few days, and I blocked his number.”

“Good,” Becky replies with a nod.

“I’m going to hit the sack,” you say suddenly as you get up from the chair and begin to walk back into the kitchen to collect your stuff.

“No problem, I’ll help you unload your car tomorrow. I was able to get the day off from work.”

“Thanks, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late in the afternoon when Leon finally gets home from his excursion, his forearms covered in scraps and bruises. He couldn’t wait to see his baby girl, his cock growing hard from the anticipation.

He fumbled with his keys in the low light until finding the correct one to unlock the front door to the apartment. He unlocks the door and opens it.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” Leon calls out.

But there’s no response.

“Sweetie? Are you asleep?”

Nothing.

Leon could feel adrenaline rush through his veins as he starts to frantically search each room for his sweetheart. He became hyper aware of the dead silence of the apartment the further he searched. When he got to the bedroom, he ripped the closet doors open and found most of your clothes were gone. He ran into the bathroom; your toiletries were gone. Almost all your belongings were gone.

“No, no, no, no, nO, NO, NO!”

Where could you have gone? He never in a million dreams imagined you would ever leave him. You belonged to him. You were his everything. Everything he did, he did it for you, he did it to keep you safe from the disgusting world. Pure rage began to flow through him as he stalked back into the kitchen. Unsheathing his knife, he stabbed it into the center of the small dining table before he used both hands to flip it, letting out a primal growl as he did so.

“That fucking ungrateful bitch!” he growls before walking over to the overturned table to retrieve his knife.

“I loved you, took care of you, protected you… and this is the thanks I get…”

He pulls out his cellphone, dialing your number and putting the phone to his ear.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please check the number and try again.”

Taking a deep breath, he then attempts to send a text to the number.

We’re sorry, the number you have entered is not valid.

Breathing heavily, he puts his phone back in his pocket, balling both his fists and closing his cobalt eyes. He stood there for a moment, seething when he suddenly appeared to have a revelation. His eyes snap back open and he digs his phone back out from his pocket and opens an app. A smile slowly overcomes him as stares down at the phone like he was staring down at a long lost lover.

“There you are. Don’t worry baby girl. Daddy’s coming to get you.”

Part 2

#leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #afab reader #gigabyte writes #there's no escape

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sattlersquarry · 14 days

Text

the great divide (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU, the sequel to orange juice) After your miraculous return to the land of the living, you aren't doing well.

Word Count: ~12k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation. The reader has panic attacks and intrusive thoughts about Not Wanting To Be Alive. If that will be triggering for you please don't read this (read my happier bloom series instead). there's also an allusion to a relapse, slut-shaming, and allusions to sex (although there's no smut, it just gets slightly steamy). this fic is angst + hurt/comfort with an optimistic ending. inspired by noah kahan's music (including this amazing demo on instagram).

a/n: please let me know if i missed any warnings. please don't read this if you think it will be too triggering. the last thing i want is to make someone upset! but writing this was cathartic and helped me work through some things, i think. writing is magical!

🫀🫀🫀

THE GREAT DIVIDE

SOMETIME IN 1987

You aren’t sure how long it’s been since you last saw your friends. It feels like a fucking long time.

You woke up on the ground of the Upside Down, covered in dried blood and terrified at the sight of Vecna towering above you.

He brought you back to life. He wanted to send you back home and use you as a soldier and spy, the same thing he did to Will, Billy, Heather, and countless others.

“If you do this,” Vecna had growled, “You can once again see your family. Your friends. Your beloved Steven. Otherwise…you will die here.”

You refused, not interested in being his lackey. He tried to flay you anyway, but he was weak from the hell Nancy, Steve, and Robin rained down on him, allowing you to escape his clutches.

He stalked you for days, finally catching up to you—but you got the upper hand, using Eddie’s spear to stab him. Repeatedly.

Killing Vecna caused the gates he opened to sew themselves back shut before you could get through. You were glad that your friends no longer had to worry about Vecna and his army of monsters pouring through the four gates, but it meant you were trapped on the wrong side of the universe.

Vecna gone meant the Upside Down could revert back to what it was before he arrived. Now, the sky of the Upside Down was a buttery yellow, and it was much warmer. You saw patches of green grass and flowers starting to grow in various spots around town. But it still felt like a nightmare.

You wander the Upside Down each day with a routine: avoid monsters, forage for food and clean water, and visit the gates to see if any of them reopened. Food and water aren’t as hard to find as you feared, since the world isn’t so much of a poison, desolate nightmare anymore. But the gates stay staunchly shut, much to your chagrin.

You miss your life. You miss Steve. You miss his laugh, his smile, his kisses, his touch. You would do ungodly things to see him again.

You hope he’s okay. Any time you want to give up, you remind yourself that if roles were reversed, Steve would keep fighting to come back to you no matter what.

And, to your pleasant surprise, he does just that.

🫀🫀🫀

AUGUST 1987

It’s been three months since you returned to the land of the living. You’re not taking it well.

Surviving the Upside Down meant constantly being in fight-or-flight, scrambling to find food and clean water while avoiding demo-creature attacks. Without Vecna’s evil influence, the animals weren’t so bloodthirsty—but they still needed to eat.

You were able to avoid them, surviving yourself off disgusting canned food from the Upside Down’s version of the Big Buy and whatever houses you ransacked. It wasn’t very appetizing. It made the meal you were serving up today seem like a 5-star, 5-course delight.

It was neither of those things. It was for a church potluck that your mother had a hand in throwing. Lots of casseroles and carbs. She dragged you along to volunteer in hopes to get you out of the house.

Ever since you left the hospital in May, you’d only ever left the house to go to doctor’s appointments, therapy appointments, and Steve’s place. Your parents wanted to encourage more of a well-rounded life and schedule, and although they’d never admit it, you figured they hoped you’d turn back to your normal self. To the person you were before it all happened.

You think she might have died.

As you plate some macaroni and cornbread for your next patron, you sense eyes on you. You glance over and see two women at a table a few feet away. To your chagrin, they’re gossiping about you.

“I mean, it’s appalling,” an old bat named Shirley hisses. “She claims to have lost her memory after the earthquake and gotten lost, but it’s obvious that she just ran away.”

“Probably thought she was grown up, that she knew better than her parents,” Mildred says with a sniff, adjusting her too-big glasses.

“I can’t believe she left poor Steve Harrington high and dry,” Shirley adds.

Your heart clenches at the fact that these women see you as a villain, as an irresponsible idiot who up and left everyone who loved her out of spite. If they knew the truth…if they knew the nightmare you’d survived…

It only gets worse from there.

“You know what Cynthia told me?” Mildred says. “That her cousin’s roommate’s friend’s brother saw Y/N working a street corner in Manassas. It's just shameful.”

Anger burns through you, hot like hellfire. So, what? You’re not just a flake—you’re a slut to this people now, too? What happened to ‘loving thy neighbor’ and ‘forgiveness’ and all that shit?

“Can I get some more of that?” an elderly man says.

It snaps you back to your task at hand: dishing out food to hungry churchgoers.

“Ah, yeah,” you say. You dump macaroni on his Styrofoam plate. “Sorry. Here you go.”

The man smiles and ambles off. You take a deep breath and try your best to tune out the whispers of the chattering hens.

Your mother must notice the scowl on your face. She makes her way to you, practically floating, as graceful as ever. She’s totally in her element. She deserves a daughter who doesn’t clomp and stumble her way through life. Who doesn’t jump at every loud noise and sleep with a hunting knife under her pillow.

“Doing all right?” your mother asks you, giving you that sympathetic look that you think you might despise by now.

You muster up a smile of your own and nod.

Your mother can’t tell its fake and beams.

“See?” she says. “I knew getting you out of the house would turn that frown upside-down!”

She doesn’t know about the Upside Down. She thinks you got injured in the earthquake, stumbled through the Indiana woodlands, and got found by cops two states over. That you couldn’t remember where you came from due to amnesia, that since they pronounced you dead no one assumed you were the missing girl from Hawkins until your memories came back.

You let her comment slide and fake a smile, figuring it’s better to pretend you’re fine than feel it all.

🫀🫀🫀

That night, you chat with Steve on the phone. He’s gone back to college for the fall semester and you miss him terribly.

He promised he’d come back to Hawkins every other weekend. He knows how hard it’s been for you coming back. Or, he says he knows. Sometimes, you get the idea that he doesn’t really understand.

How could he? Every time he tries to get you to open up about what happened and what you went through, you shut down.

However, when he asks how your day was, you decide to be honest.

“It sucked,” you say. You blow out a huff of air. “These old crones were being total bitches at the church potluck. Apparently, the new conspiracy theory is that I was turning tricks in Virginia.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry Y/N,” Steve says. For some reason, the sympathy in his voice makes you wince.

“But it’s fine,” you say quickly. “I don’t care what they say about me.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“It’s okay if you do, you know,” Steve says, speaking slowly and carefully as if he’s worried about setting you off. (For good reason; you’ve been prone to outbursts of anger lately.)

“I know!” you say, defensiveness seeping into your tone. “But I don’t give a shit. Really.”

“Good,” Steve says. But he sounds unconvinced. “You shouldn’t.”

Another pause. It lasts a little too long for your liking. You clear your throat.

“I should probably shower and head to bed,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says. You don’t understand why he sounds almost intrigued by the prospect of your boring nighttime routine until he says, “A shower with you sounds like heaven right now…”

Shit. You’re really not in the mood for phone sex. Even if that’s not what Steve is angling for, just slightly flirty banter doesn’t sound fun to you either.

Steve has been a total gentleman ever since you got back. You’ve kissed a little, but anytime he tries to take it further, you stop him. As much as you longed for him in every sense while in the Upside Down, you don’t feel ready to re-engage in those kinds of activities—like you’ve been shot back to the insecure, unconfident person you were before you started dating Steve.

He respects those boundaries and never, ever presses for more. But you worry he’s getting bored and wants to get back into old habits, possibly evidenced by his shower comment.

You’re a coward. You don’t tell him outright that you’re not in the mood, afraid he’ll have an out-of-character reaction and chew you out for being a prude or a tease.

“Huh?” you say. Steve starts to repeat his salacious comment, but you interrupt with: “Bad…connection…can’t…better…”

You hang up the phone and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

🫀🫀🫀

OCTOBER 1987

It’s a Thursday in October, and you’re taking a trip for the first time in a long time.

“You have everything you need?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Toothbrush? Extra socks? Lambchop?”

You huff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms like a petulant teenager.

“Mom! I’m an adult. I do not need a stuffed animal.”

“But you packed her, right?”

You mumble out a “Yes” as she pulls up to the parking lot near Steve’s apartment building.

You applied for spring admission at the University of Indiana. Your lovely boyfriend invited you to stay with him for a few days so he could show you around campus for homecoming weekend.

Tonight is the unofficial campus tour with “Tour Guide Steve.” Tomorrow, you’ll help him and his friends put the finishing touches on a homecoming parade float, and Saturday is the big football game.

Before your disappearance and assumed death, your parents were insanely strict about you staying the night with Steve and wouldn’t have allowed it. Now, they’ve mellowed out—but you hate thinking it’s because of some kind of twisted pity.

Steve must have seen your mom’s minivan pull up from his apartment window, because he jogs over to you before you’ve even grabbed your bag from the trunk.

“Hey, babe!” he says with a beaming grin; the picture of exuberance. You can feel his excitement roll off him in waves. You feel like an asshole for matching his energy. Even though you’re excited for time with Steve, you have a pit in your stomach at the thought of being away from home for so many days.

Of course, if you get accepted to U of I, you’ll be away from home for weeks at a time. You try not to think about that.

Steve hugs you tightly, and you hope he can’t sense your apprehension.

He seems not too, still smiling as he gives your mom a quick hug and then offers to carry your duffel bag for you.

You give your mom a hug goodbye, promising to call if you want to get picked up early.

You and Steve wave as your mom drives away. After dropping your bag off at his apartment, Steve takes you on an abridged campus tour that ends at the dining hall. He wants to introduce you to his friends.

He has friends here. Of course he does, you’re glad he does. No one should feel like they don’t have friends, or like their girlfriend is their only friend. But what does it mean that your boyfriend is your only friend lately?

Nancy’s off at Emerson. As for the Hawkins crew, Jonathan’s busy with family stuff, helping Joyce and Hopper renovate their new house. Eddie’s preoccupied with his band, trying to get Corroded Coffin off the ground after a he-was-accused-of-murder hiatus. And Robin’s a student at Roane County Community College, spending her days with marching band and classes and clubs and work.

They’ve started inviting you to things, and sometimes you go. You usually don’t have much fun, distracted with your own anxieties and unable to think of anything interesting to say.

So, the fact that Steve seems to have moved on from everything so easily and has a pack of friends at college makes you feel pathetic, even though it shouldn’t.

At the dining hall, Steve introduces you to his buddies. When Steve lived on-campus last semester, Gus was his roommate. Now Steve’s moved into his own apartment off-campus, but the boys still hang out often and play together on a club basketball team.

Jessica is Gus’ girlfriend. She has a kind smile and compliments your sweater.

The last friend in their clique is Rochelle. She’s tall and slender, like a supermodel. Apparently, she and Jessica grew up together and are good friends.

Everyone greets you happily when Steve introduces you—except Rochelle, who looks you up and down like she’s inspecting you. It makes you uneasy.

You immediately start to dislike her more when she laughs loudly at Steve’s jokes and squeezes his shoulder flirtatiously.

“You are tew much, Harrington,” Rochelle says, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder.

It makes you feel tense and jealous and angry and sick all at once.

You’re completely content to listen in silence while the others chat, but then Jessica asks where you go to school.

“Oh, um, here, in the spring,” you say. “Uh, hopefully.”

“That’s awesome!” Gus says. “You get the full Hoosiers homecoming experience a whole semester before having to pay tuition.”

You chuckle and smile. Any good feelings you have about this interaction come crashing down when Rochelle asks, “So, like, if you aren’t a student right now, what do you do?”

“She’s working at Sonic,” Steve says. “Saving up money. Right babe?”

You turn to him, face falling. You’re not working. You tried to apply for a job at Sonic and had a panic attack when you saw the gap in your resume from your 15 months in the Upside Down, so you roller-skated your way home to unemployment.

Did you not tell Steve that? You suppose you “forgot” to tell him about that panic episode.

“Uh, actually no,” you say, furrowing your brow. “Not anymore. I’m just taking a semester off.”

Surprise flashes behind Steve’s eyes, but he recovers quickly. He throws an arm around your shoulders and says, “Right, of course.”

The rest of the conversation is mostly you smiling and nodding along to the funny stories and inside jokes the group shares. When you and Steve get back to his place later that evening, you apologize for not updating him on the Sonic situation sooner.

Steve waves away your apology.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he says.

“But I feel bad,” you say, fidgeting with your fingers while you sit next to him on the couch. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

(You didn’t truly forget. You were embarrassed and didn’t want him to know.)

“These things happen,” Steve says. “I totally get it. For a few months after Vecna and…you, my brain was like scrambled eggs. I’d drink myself to a coma every other night. I definitely didn’t have the sharpest mind.”

You appreciate him for understanding. Except you feel shitty because you’re lying to him about forgetting. It’s a vicious cycle.

The two of you put on a movie, and while you’re lying on the couch with him, you start thinking of something you haven’t done in a long, long time.

You lightly trace your hand up and down the arm that’s wrapped around your middle.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Would you want to…”

You clear your throat.

“What?” Steve asks.

You aren’t sure how to ask for what you want without sounding wholly desperate and/or pathetic and/or like the horniest bastard alive.

“Go to your room?” you say.

“Sure, if you want, we can go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You laugh lightly.

“No, I mean. You know.”

You wiggle your eyebrows and Steve’s jaw drops. Mouth agape, like a goldfish, his brains seems to short circuit.

The air is charged with something you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Are you sure?” Steve says, a barely audibly whisper. His hand cups your cheek so delicately, and you feel cherished. Love. Seen.

“I am,” you whisper back, before pulling him closer to you for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss you dreamed about while you were trapped in another universe.

It makes you feel electric, the same way your first kiss had. That iconic kiss happened because Steve found out you’d never played spin the bottle. In his kitchen late, late at night, he took an empty soda bottle and spun it on the countertop.

He had maneuvered it just right and stopped it with his hand when the bottle neck pointed right at you, like a compass needle finding truth north.

“Well, what do you know,” Steve had said at the time, with a dopey grin on his face. “It’s you.”

“If you wanted to kiss me so bad,” you had quipped, “you could’ve just asked.”

And then you two kissed like crazy, amongst other things.

Back in the present, all your hesitancies and qualms about re-engaging in intimacy and sex with Steve are thrown out the window when you feel his lips on yours.

Giddy as if it’s the first time (because, in a way, it kind of is), the two of you break apart and practically race down the hall to his bedroom. Thank goodness for no roommates, because when you’re in there, Steve slams the door and presses you against it to kiss some more, closing the gap between the metaphorical great divide that you’ve placed between you both.

You tug at his shirt, and he pulls it off before the two of you stumble into his bed.

Things heat up, and they’re going great. Steve is kissing and biting your neck, probably leaving a hickey or two, but you don’t mind. His hands are gripping your waist, practically leaving scorch marks in their wake.

You’re loving this. You’re having a great time.

Until you’re not. The trains of thought in your brain all rush from the station at the same time, colliding at a junction on the tracks.

What if you give Steve an infection? Not an STD, but like, an Upside Down sickness. You could be a carrier and not even realize it. Is that a possibility? What did Dr. Owens say last time you saw him?

He advised you not to get pregnant. He said there’s a possibility your future children could have birth defects after your time in the Upside Down. Birth defects! You’re only 21 years old and your body is poisoned. Not enough to harm you in the short term, but the long term effects on you (and your progeny) could be terrible to deal with.

But Steve really wants kids. What if he finds out you can’t give him children and he leaves you? You really, really don’t want him to leave you.

You don’t realize it, but you start breathing a little harder. To Steve, it seems like you’re insanely turned on. Mentally, your brain is on a different plane of existence.

He’s going to leave you because he’s better off without you. He doesn’t realize it yet but one day, one day. He will.

Vecna was right. Vecna said Steve would get tired and bored of you. That’s why the monster tried to recruit you, to flay you. That’s why he pursued you across the Upside Down for days, hunting you like a dog until he cornered you at the quarry.

Steve finally takes notice of your erratic breathing pattern. You’re not reacting how you usually do to his kissing. He ceases the lovefest and leans up on his elbows.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You don’t hear him. You continue to hyperventilate, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

And when you stabbed the beast through the chest with the spear Eddie left behind, you didn’t even feel sorry.

Is that the kind of person you are? A sick, violent freak?

But it was self-defense!

But if you hadn’t tried to draw the demobats away, you wouldn’t have been in that situation. You went against the plan. You caused all the bad things that happened to you.

You’re a bad person. A bad omen. A bad girlfriend. A bad daughter. A—

“Hey, can you hear me? Y/N?”

Steve’s soft, slightly panicked, voice brings you back down to reality.

You nod, eyes still shut.

“Sorry,” you say. “I don’t—I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, still speaking quietly as if he’s afraid to scare you. You don’t feel his hands on you anymore, but you sense he’s still close. “It’s okay. Can you sit up? I think you should drink something.”

You sit up slowly and open your eyes. Steve looks frazzled, but he musters up a smile when he hands you a glass of cold water.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

You don’t respond, just take a sip.

“Can we just go to bed?” you say after a moment, voice cracking.

Steve nods and gives your knee a gentle squeeze.

“Of course. And, hey, listen, we don’t have to have sex anytime soon, okay?”

“But—”

“No, seriously,” Steve says, shaking his head vehemently. “I mean, of course I like having sex with you. Probably too much.”

You snort and shake your head, a small smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“But you know I don’t mind waiting. Right?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I know.”

But as you lie awake, tossing and turning, your brain continues feeding you lie after lie, and you find yourself believing the opposite. Prude, tease. Bad girlfriend. Bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

The next morning, you, Steve, Gus, Jessica, and Rochelle work on a homecoming float for the club basketball team the boys are on.

It’s fun at first. The parking lot is filled with floats for all different student organizations. Someone is playing music a bit too loud, but the energy is electric.

It takes a turn when Steve rushes off with Gus to get more supplies.

While you’re kneeling by the float trying to staple tinsel trim around the edge, you hear Rochelle and Jessica whispering conspiratorially on the other side. They can’t see you due to a large papier mâché basketball blocking you from view.

You're awash with embarrassment, feeling warm head to toe, when you realize they’re talking about you.

“You know what Mollie told me?” Rochelle said. “When she and Steve were hooking up last year, he called her Y/N, like, three times.”

Your heart shrinks. You didn’t know Steve had been involved with anyone while you were gone. In fact, he said the opposite.

“That’s kind of sweet though, when you think about it,” Jessica muses. “But I wonder what caused Steve and Y/N to break up and then get back together. I’ve never dreamed of breaking up with Gus.”

“I heard some other super freaky stuff about her,” Rochelle says. “My sorority sister, Tina, is from Hawkins too. Apparently, Y/N had, like, amnesia or some shit after that earthquake thing. And she was like missing.”

“Damn,” Jessica says. “That’s crazy. How’d she remember stuff and get back home?”

“Who gives a shit?” Rochelle scoffs. “That’s obviously a cover story. Tina said the real story is probably something much simpler. Like she ran away to become a stripper but couldn’t hack it because she doesn’t have a good body. And, well, we’ve seen that firsthand.”

Anger and shame courses through your veins, and you tug on the hem of your sweatshirt. You’re comforted only a miniscule amount when you hear Jessica come to your defense.

“Don’t be such a jerk. And we have no idea what really happened so stop making shit up, mkay?”

“I’m just repeating what I heard. But Tina’s right, her whole deal is so weird. I can’t believe she’s Steve’s girlfriend. He deserves better.”

Those words echo in your head. He deserves better. He deserves better. You’ve been thinking that a lot yourself lately.

You don’t care if Jessica and Rochelle see you when you toss your stapler onto the ground and stomp off.

“Oh, shit,” you hear Jessica say. “Nice going, Roche.”

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t know she was creeping around!”

As you beeline through the throngs of float-makers, you bump into Steve, holding a box of glittery something. He grins at you.

“Hey, where’s the fire?”

When he notices the grim look on your face, he sobers up.

“Whoa, what happened?”

“Who’s Mollie?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Steve pales. He swallows hard, grip on the box loosening. He gingerly sets it on the ground next to him and shrugs.

“No one.”

“Liar.”

Steve glances around before leading you away from the crowd to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the parking lot.

“She really was no one,” Steve repeats. “Just some girl I had a class with. I was lonely and she liked me, so we went out twice.”

“I heard Rochelle say you hooked up with her,” you say. You cross your arms and try to keep angry tears at bay. “You told me you didn’t find anybody else.”

“I didn’t!” Steve says, a little louder. He clears his throat. “I meant that. We almost hooked up, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

You sigh and shake your head. You want to believe him so badly. But the voice in your head that’s been so cruel to you lately isn’t convinced.

“Do you still think about her?”

Steve scrunches up his face, wholly confused at your line of questioning.

“What? No, of course not. Like I said, we hung out twice, had one near-miss, and then never spoke again. Babe, is everything okay?”

He reaches a hand to your arm and you flinch away. Your action makes him frown deeper.

You rub your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. “Just tired.”

A beat. You think Steve’s going to accept your answer, until: “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying!” you say, irritation creeping into your tone. “I’m just tired. Okay, Steve?”

Steve fidgets from foot to foot. He’s starting to look as agitated as you feel. With an annoyingly calm, even voice, he says, “I think you’re not being honest.”

“And I think you should shut up,” you fire back, before you can stop yourself.

Steve’s face contorts into a frown, the line between his brows deepening.

“Whoa, what the hell?” he says. “Why are you being like this?”

“Because I just found out you lied about not being involved with someone while I was gone!”

Steve rubs his face with his hands, as if he’s trying to scrub away whatever he’s feeling. He takes a deep breath, another one, and then finally speaks.

“Y/N, I thought you were dead,” he says, voice strained. “You can’t seriously be jealous of me spending time with someone else because to my knowledge, I was never going to see you again.”

You know you should apologize for your outburst. Tell him about your insecurities, now dialed up to 1000 thanks to Rochelle’s comments. Rejoin his friends at the float like the normal girlfriend he probably wishes you were.

But instead, you find yourself voicing one of the fears that’s been swirling in your brain since June.

“It would be so much easier for you if that was still the case, right?” you ask, softly.

“Excuse me?” Steve asks.

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. “Bringing me back?” He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. You clear your throat and, louder, add, “Because it would be so much simpler for you to date a girl like Mollie or Rochelle.”

“Jesus, Y/N,” Steve groans. “Don’t bring Rochelle into this.”

“Why not? She’s obviously obsessed with you!”

“Yeah?” Steve scoffs. “Well, I don’t like her. I like you.” He shakes his head, as if he’s short-circuiting, and corrects, “I love you!”

Too late. You already heard the Freudian slip of your worst nightmare. He doesn’t regard you in the same way he did before your so-called death. You’ve changed too much.

You shake your head vehemently.

“No,” you say. “No. You loved the girl I was before it all happened.”

“You’re still the same girl!”

“I’m not!” you shout. You’re so angry, so upset, so emotional, you can’t stop. You’re floating above your body and watching yourself speak when you say, “I’m not. She’s gone, and sometimes I wish you’d never brought me back so I wouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve goes still once more. When he finally replies, his voice is dangerously quiet: “How dare you say that.”

You hadn’t expected that. You’d expected him to swoop in with comforting platitudes. To hug you and promise it would all be okay. To truly hear the words you’re saying—the thoughts you’ve been too afraid to voice in therapy, thoughts you’ve sugarcoated in your mind to lessen that bitter feeling on your tongue when you finally speak them aloud.

“What?” you whisper. Your eyes sting, unshed tears collecting on your lash line.

“How dare you say that,” Steve says, shaking his head. He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. He runs a hand through his hair and barks out a laugh so hollow, you can practically hear the echo in his ribcage. “That’s so fucking selfish that you wish you were still down there. I was miserable without you. I didn’t want to go on. I didn’t think I could!”

He's not getting what you’re trying to say. You open your mouth to reply, to apologize, to try and fix things, but Steve continues.

“So for you to be so callous, to think so little of me, to think I’d rather date some vapid airhead just because it would be ‘simpler’? To think I somehow can’t love you anymore because of what you went through? That’s just…bullshit!”

You heave out a sob as tears roll down your cheeks. Steve’s expression morphs into one of guilt. He swallows hard.

“Y/N, I—”

“You don’t get to tell me my feelings are bullshit!” you snap. You sniffle and roughly wipe your tears away, before jabbing a finger into his chest and pressing in. “Ever since I’ve been back, it’s all about how everyone else feels about it. You and my parents are so much happier, and you seem to think I can snap back to how I was before and forget it all happened and be grateful that I survived. Well, I can’t!”

Despite your distance from the parade planning festivities, you see a few curious students glance in your direction. You can’t be bothered to care.

“I don’t know how to go on with life like normal after 15 months in that hell, and no one understands what I’m going through!” you yell. “No one has been through that! And I’m miserable and scared and anxious and I’m lying to my therapist week after week because I can’t even verbalize what I’m thinking without feeling like I’m losing my goddamn mind. So sorry if sometimes I wish all this would go away.”

Steve’s facial expression cracks your heart in seventeen pieces. He looks devastated and confused.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, somewhat cautiously. “You’re right. I’m not handling this well, not seeing it from your point of view. But this is the most you’ve expressed how you’re feeling about it all. For the past few months, I—I don’t know. I thought you were feeling okay.”

You sniffle again and shrug.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “This is good, I think. Well, no, it’s not good that we’re screaming at each other in the quad. But getting our feelings out is—”

“I want to go home,” you say, cutting him off.

Steve closes his eyes, sighs softly, and nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll drive you back to Hawkins tonight.”

“No, I want to go now,” you say, voice cracking as you try not to cry harder. “I want my mom to come get me.”

Hurt flashes on Steve’s features. “Babe, are you sure? I really don’t mind. I want to, actually. The drive will give us more of a chance to talk.”

But you’re too tired and overwhelmed to talk anymore. Steve understands, though his shoulders are slumped as the two of you walk back to his apartment.

He offers to pack your bag while you call your house. Your mom picks up on the second ring.

“Hello, Y/L/N residence.”

“Mom?” you sniff. “Can you come get me?”

“Oh, of course sweetie!” You hear the jingle of car keys. “Wait, are you crying? What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

“I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Did you and Steve have a fight?”

“His friends were really mean,” you say quietly, deciding not to disclose that you indeed got in an argument with Steve. “This girl, Rochelle, said one of her friends from Hawkins is telling everyone I was a stripper.”

“Oh, don’t you listen to that.”

You can’t hold back tears as you begin to cry harder.

“How come everyone makes up those dumb rumors?” you say through sobs. “And if people on campus already know them, how much worse will it be if I’m a student here?!”

Your mom soothes you over the phone before promising to get there as quickly as possible. As you hang up the phone, Steve comes in from down the hall, frowning and carrying your now-packed duffel. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about his eavesdropping when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me Rochelle said that to you?”

You shrug and look down at your feet.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I keep replaying our conversation in my head,” he says, “and I feel like an ass.”

“You’re not, Steve.”

“No! I am. I absolutely am. You were honest and vulnerable, and I immediately got mad. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say flatly. Admittedly, you’re not sure if you forgive him yet. But you know you didn’t treat him well either, so you say, “I’m sorry too. I was insensitive. I know you had a hard time while I was gone—”

“But it’s nothing compared to what you were dealing with,” Steve says. He steps closer to you and intertwines your hands together. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“My mom’s already on her way,” you say. “And you should rest up. Tomorrow’s the parade, and the homecoming game.”

“I don’t need to go to the game.”

“Steve—”

“I’d rather come back to Hawkins this weekend,” he continues. “Spend more time with you. Talk things through, you know? Maybe I can just ride with you and your mom, and Munson can bring me back Sunday.”

He’s sweet. But you aren’t sure how to tell him that you really, really don’t want to be around him right now. You don’t want to be around anyone, really.

You take a deep breath, gently drop his hands, and say, “I think I need some space.”

You can’t look Steve in the eye, but you hear the pain in his voice when he says, “Oh. Um, okay. Yeah. Of course. Space.”

You two sit in awkward silence while you wait for your mom to arrive. When she gets there, Steve continues to be a gentleman, carrying your bag for you and politely making small talk with your mom. He gives you a hug goodbye, but it doesn’t linger the way his hugs usually do.

As your mom drives away, you watch your boyfriend get smaller and smaller in the side mirror.

Before leaving, you promised him you’d call him that night.

You conveniently “forget” to do that.

He leaves a message at 9:37 p.m., asking you to call him back.

You don’t.

🫀🫀🫀

NOVEMBER 1987

“Hey, babe. It’s Steve. Again. I know we agreed on ‘space’ but I haven’t heard from you in three weeks…I don’t want to rush or smother you, but I’d really like to talk, even if it’s for, like, five minutes. So please call me back. I love you, Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N. Are you doing okay? Robin says she saw you and your mom at the store the other day and you just seemed kind of…out of it. To be honest, I’m worried about you. Listen, even if you don’t…even if we…even if you’ve decided you don’t want to be with me anymore, or something, I still care about you. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Please call me. Bye. Love you.”

“Hi Y/N, I’m coming back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving. Can I come by after you and your parents have dinner? I want to check in. On how you’re doing, and on how you’re feeling about ‘us.’ Let me know, okay? Bye, Y/N.”

“Hey. I’m going to swing by your place after I’ve finished Thanksgiving dinner with the Buckleys. Robin told me you’ve been avoiding her too. And Eddie, and Jonathan. I know you’re going through a tough time, but don’t try to do it alone. That’s a lesson I learned the hard way last year. I’ll see you tonight, all right?”

🫀🫀🫀

You’ve spent the past month and a half wallowing. All you really do is sleep, eat, shower, and take short walks around your neighborhood for exercise. Any time Steve calls the house phone, you tell your parents to let it ring and let it go to voicemail.

It’s shitty of you, but you aren’t sure how to dig yourself out of this hole that you’ve found yourself in. You’re still feeling rather undeserving of Steve.

So when he shows up on your doorstep on Thanksgiving, wearing that maroon sweater that you’ve always just adored, the first thing you do is apologize for your radio silence. Then, you offer him pumpkin pie.

“I won’t say no,” he says. “As long as you split it with me.”

While your parents cuddle on the couch and watch It’s A Wonderful Life, you and Steve sit on the kitchen counter and eat slices of pie with whipped cream.

For a few minutes, you exchange small talk and pleasantries. Then, Steve gets down to business.

“How have you been doing, really?” Steve asks.

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Y/N,” Steve says with a sigh. “Please just be honest with me.”

You suck in a breath.

“Okay. You want honesty? I’m having a really hard time.”

“I know,” Steve says gently. “And I want to help. Can you talk to me about what’s going on?”

You consider it. You consider wrenching your heart open for him and admitting all your fears and insecurities. But last time you broached this subject with Steve and tried to be wholly honest about what you were feeling, you didn’t explain it right and he took it the wrong way.

And you also hear what sounds like Rochelle’s voice in your mind: He deserves better. He deserves better.

You save yourself the trouble and say, “I need to get my shit together. And I’m not being a very good girlfriend while I do, so I think we need to break up.”

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel tears coming on. Everything only worsens when you hear Steve whisper, “What?”

He deserves better. He deserves better. He deserves better than you.

“I have to focus on myself right now,” you continue as the tears roll down your cheeks. You stab your pie with your fork and say, “I’m sorry. I love you so much—”

“I love you too, Y/N, so I—”

“—but I need to deal with this on my own. It’s not fair of me to treat you like this.” You clear your throat and add, “You deserve someone who can give you everything you want.”

“You’re what I want,” Steve says. You can’t look at him, but you get the impression that he’s tearing up too. “I mean, if this is really what you want, I’ll respect your decision completely, but I just have to know—is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You don’t want to do this—

—but he deserves better.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Steve says after a beat. “Even if we aren’t together anymore, I’m still here for you. You know that, right?”

You nod, still decimating your pie slice with your fork.

“Okay, good.” He sniffles.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“Sorry. Ah, I mean—”

Steve chuckles, despite everything. You two share an awkward hug goodbye before he leaves.

You stay in the kitchen and hear him wish your parents “Happy holidays.” As you hear the front door open and shut, as you hear his car turn on and drive away, you try to convince yourself this was the correct choice. That shutting him out means he’ll live a happier life without you.

The pit of emptiness like a chasm in your soul will go away eventually, right?

🫀🫀🫀

FEBRUARY 1988

It’s been 3 months since you broke up with Steve.

You decided to defer your U of I enrollment. Steve, being a good friend, calls a few days before the semester starts asking if you’d like help moving into your dorm, and you break the news to him. He understands but sounds disappointed. It makes you feel terrible.

But this is the right choice. You aren’t ready to be away from home, away from your parents, even if it’s just a couple hours away.

You start taking community college classes to fill your time and get some credits, along with working at Bradley’s Big Buy as a stocker. It’s mindless, monotonous work. It’s kind of perfect.

What isn’t so perfect is your therapist, Elaine. She’s nice enough. But she doesn’t seem to get it. You aren’t able to fully tell her what you went through, considering she knows nothing about the Upside Down, so she can’t really help you.

When you start opening up about the dark thoughts worming their way through your mind, Elaine advocates strongly and staunchly for putting yourself out there and making new friends to fill the void. You’re starting to wonder if you’re wasting your time shelling out $50 a week.

You do think a better social life would be good for you, so you invite Robin, Eddie, and Jonathan to come over to your place for a horror movie marathon. (Nancy would be invited too, if she wasn’t away at school.) You’ve rented a D-level slasher trilogy about a man in a hockey mask attacking pageant queens. It’s small potatoes compared to what you’ve actually been through.

Jonathan agrees, but both Robin and Eddie tell you they can’t make it. Robin because she’s got the flu. Eddie because he has band practice all afternoon and into the night.

It stings like a barb ripping you open when you swing by Melvald’s for cheap movie candy and spot the two of them across the street, laughing as they head into the Hawk with…Steve, who must be home from school for the weekend.

So they do want to have a movie night. Just with Steve and not you. Message received.

You wonder if Steve said something to sour you in their eyes. You thought the breakup was amicable. You know he was upset by it, but he respected your decision. And he doesn’t seem like the type to badmouth an ex, especially after all you’ve been through together.

But anxiety rolls through your nervous system the rest of the day. As you and Jonathan watch the crappy movies, you just feel numb.

“Jee-sus!” Jonathan yelps as the killer’s chainsaw hacks through someone’s limb.

He glances your way, eyebrows raising. “What? That didn’t scare you?”

You shrug. “I’ve seen worse.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows. He leans over and pauses the movie.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We can watch something else. Or, if you’d rather be alone, I can head out.”

You pick at a loose thread on the pillow in your lap.

“Are Robin and Eddie mad at me?” you whisper.

“What?” Jonathan says with a laugh. “You’re, like, the nicest person in a fifty-mile radius. Why would they be mad at you?”

The old you was nice. The current you is moody. But Jonathan is also pretty moody, so maybe your moodiness is baseline in his eyes.

“They both said they couldn’t come tonight,” you continue, “but then I saw them just an hour ago in downtown Hawkins heading into the Hawk with Steve. Why else would they make up excuses not to come unless they were mad?”

Jonathan takes a long, slow sip of his grape soda and shrugs.

“It’s probably because they don’t want you to think they chose Steve over you in the breakup.”

“But that’s exactly what they did!”

“Maybe not,” Jonathan says. “Maybe they just made the plans with Steve before you invited us over and it’s easier to turn down your invitation than cancel on him.”

That’s a very logical way of looking at it, but it still stings feeling like you’ve lost two friends since you and Steve aren’t together anymore.

You and Jonathan continue watching, but his mom calls halfway through the second movie, forcing him to leave early—something about El using telekinesis to turn her bed into a bunk bed and it backfiring horribly.

You try to push your worries out of your mind, but paranoia takes a hold. As you toss and turn in your bed that night, clutching Lambchop for a semblance of comfort, your brain bullies you.

Robin and Eddie are pissed at you. Probably because you haven’t gone to any Corroded Coffin shows since you’ve been back. You’ve been a little preoccupied.

A little selfish, more like. It doesn’t matter what you’re going through. You should still support your friends.

But why? You don’t like drinking alcohol anymore because you don’t like feeling out of control. And the Hideout is the only place Corroded Coffin plays, and that place reeks of booze and cigarettes and bad decisions.

Maybe that’s why Eddie’s mad. Is Robin mad by proxy? Did Steve shit-talk you to her? How did he describe the events of the breakup?

Were you a bad girlfriend? Are you a bad friend? Bad person?

Yes. You’re a bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

You happen to run into Robin on the community college’s campus the following Monday. You can’t help but ask if she’s feeling better.

Her eyes widen and she plasters on a smile.

“O-oh, yeah!” she says. “I’m feeling loads better. Tons! Tons better.”

“Your sinus infection is gone?” you prompt, knowing full well she told you it was the flu.

“Yep! All gone. My sinuses are as healthy as can be. I feel like I could live to be 100!”

You exchange a few more pleasantries and shuffle off.

🫀🫀🫀

MARCH 1988

There’s a dark cloud hovering over your mind. Most days, you’re lethargic. You go to classes and go to work, and you do start going to the Hideout on Tuesday nights with Jonathan and Robin to watch Eddie play with his band.

But that’s the extent of your social life. You’re feeling lonely and drained.

Things take a turn for the worse in March. It was a cold, cold winter in Hawkins, and spring is shaping up to be warmer but just as gloomy. Really bad thunderstorms shake the windowpanes of your house most days, and the streaks of lightning remind you so much of the grayish-yellow Upside Down sky, it makes you sick.

You can’t help but find yourself thinking you want to disappear to escape it all. Not die, exactly. But fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Maybe when you woke up, things would be better.

You try to explain what you’re feeling to Elaine the Therapist, and she doesn’t understand what you meant in the slightest.

“Have you gotten checked for narcolepsy?” she asks.

You give her a tight smile and say you’ll ask your doctor about it at your next checkup.

A bright spot is when Robin invites you to a party at her apartment. You forgot her and Eddie’s little white lie from a few weeks ago and RSVP yes.

The party is going well. You’re having a nice conversation with Jonathan and Eddie when Steve walks in, and he’s not alone.

Your heart sinks to your feet, through the floor, and all the way to the core of the earth when you see Steve is joined by Rochelle.

You don’t even hear any of the conversations happening around you. You quickly excuse yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water—and because you need to be alone.

You get about 15 seconds of a reprieve before Steve enters.

“Listen, it’s not what you think,” he says quickly.

“Hello to you too, Steve,” you say. You can’t even look him in the eye, choosing instead to study the ice cubes in your glass.

“I’m not here with Rochelle,” Steve continues. He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yes, she’s here. And I’m here. And we’re here together. But not together together! God, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“None at all.”

“She needed a ride to her parents’ house for the weekend,” Steve explains. “She lives just forty-five minutes from here. But I guess they were out of town, and she didn’t have a key, so she’s staying with me. And she didn’t want to spend all day in my house alone, so—”

“She’s here,” you finish for him. You finally look him in the eye and force a smile. “That’s fine, Steve. You can hang out with whoever you want.”

“Trust me,” Steve snorts. “I’d rather not be hanging out with her. I’m just doing her a favor because she’s friends with Jessica and Gus.”

Before you can respond, Rochelle saunters into the kitchen. She smiles like a shark—all gums and teeth.

“Oh, it’s you!” she says. “Y/N! How have you been?”

“Fine,” you say politely. “How about you?”

“Oh, just great. Really great. Sad to not see you around campus, though. I thought you enrolled?”

She has the impressive capability of making everything single sentence sound like an insult.

“I’m going to community college instead,” you explain. “But I really should get back out there.”

You give Steve and Rochelle a wide berth before stepping back into the living room.

The rest of the party goes by fine. Except you can’t quite contain your rage watching Rochelle throw herself at Steve all afternoon.

She sits too close to him. She constantly whispers in his ear and giggles, like they’re sharing inside jokes and secrets. While Robin’s putting on a movie for everyone to watch, you swear you even see Rochelle put her hand on Steve’s thigh.

The only thing that makes you feel better is that Steve blocks every one of these advances. While Eddie regales you all with a Corroded Coffin storytime, you even notice Steve's slotted himself in between Robin and the wall, forcing Rochelle to stand off to the side near a potted plant.

When the party’s over, you wish Robin well and try to slip out unnoticed. Unfortunately, Steve has a terrible habit of noticing everything about you, and he follows you out.

“Hey, wait up!” he calls, jogging behind you as you speed walk to your car to avoid the sprinkling rain.

“Sorry, I have to go,” you say, struggling to unlock your car door.

Before you can get it unlocked and make your escape, Steve places a hand over the driver’s side door handle.

“Hold on,” he says. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Well, I have to get home—”

“This’ll take five minutes,” Steve promises. He traces an X over his heart. “Cross my heart, hope to cry.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion. “It’s ‘die.’”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.’”

Steve’s eyes widen and jaw drops, affronted. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “Why would anyone ever want to do that?”

“That’s the point!” you say, and you can’t help but laugh at the appalled look on his face. “You don’t want to do that, so you keep the promise.”

“Ah. Okay, well, I’ll be fast. I just want to see how you’ve been doing these past few months. I—I miss you, you know?”

You swallow hard. The rain’s starting to pick up now. You don’t want to wait too much longer to drive home, or else it’ll be too hard to see. And if you see lightning, you’ll probably have a panic attack behind the wheel, making you a danger to yourself and others.

“I miss you too,” you say. “But I really, really need to get home now.”

You think of leaving it at that, but your heart feels as sad as the look on his face, so you add, “But you can come by my house later tonight and we can talk? Uh, how’s 8 sound?”

Steve’s face brightens. He gives you that smile that always makes your stomach do a backflip.

“I’d like that,” he says.

You smile back and open your car door. Before stepping in, you turn to him and say, “Do not bring Rochelle.”

“Cross my whatever and hope to who-gives-a-shit!” Steve says as he walks backward away from your car. You give him a small wave, which he returns, before getting in the car and driving off.

As you suspected, the drive home is much, much too anxiety-inducing. Thunder seems to shake the whole frame of the car as you drive across town. Rain falls in pails, as if angels are taking buckets and throwing them on your car specifically. Your windshield wipers can barely keep up, and cars are honking and passing you since your fear is causing you to drive about ten under the speed limit.

You try not to let that bother you as your hands grip the wheel for dear life, the muscles from your fingers up to your shoulders impossibly tense. There’s a reason your mom drove you everywhere last summer and fall. Getting back into the habit of operating a motor vehicle isn’t easy, and everything seems to scare you now.

Despite everything, the drive is going fine—until one of the cars passing you cuts a little too close as they swerve back into the right lane. They almost clip your front bumper, which causes you to panic and swerve off the road near the now defunct trailer park.

Your tires squeak on the wet grass and you slam on your breaks, heart pounding. Shuddery breaths draw in, out. In, out. You try and collect yourself and turn your left turn signal on to merge back onto the main road. However, something gray out of the corner of your eye causes you to whip your head in the direction of the trailer park.

This is where you died and were resurrected—well, the version of this in the Upside Down. In Hawkins, the area is cordoned off. No one can live there anymore, thanks to the big cracks in the earth. Once gates, they were now sealed, but they upended some trailers and tore others in two.

You see a flash of movement between two broken trailers. The gates are supposed to be closed, and there aren’t supposed to be Upside Down creatures in Hawkins anymore, but you can’t help but wonder alternatives. You feel compelled to check it out.

You turn off your car’s ignition, grab the flashlight from your glove box, and clamor out, ducking under the “CAUTION” tape and jogging into the park. You squint in the rain, the beam of your flashlight scanning the surrounding area. You step over uneven earth, wondering if you’re wasting your time and should just—

“GRRRRRROWWWLLLL!!!!!”

You whip around and gasp. The gray creature you saw wasn’t a demo-creature, but a mangy, stray dog with muddy fur. It snaps its jaws and you see three little puppies cowering under a bush behind it.

An overprotective mama dog wouldn’t have scared you two years ago. You would’ve known exactly how to handle the situation without freaking out. But now, your fear spikes and you remember the few run-ins with hungry demodogs you had in the Upside Down. The dog is blocking your way back to your car, so you turn on your heel and run in the opposite direction, toward the imposing forest.

You can’t think clearly. Your mind is on fire. All you can think is Danger! Danger! Danger! And it’s keeping you from making any rational decisions.

You swear you hear the dog chasing behind you, snarling and ready to attack. You zig-zag between trees and glance behind to see if you really are being chased.

You lose your footing on slick mud, left ankle twisting painfully as you fall to the ground. Your flashlight skitters out of your grasp and rolls away, blinking out.

Now, you’re stuck in the rain, in the dark, with an injured ankle and no flashlight. Thankfully, the dog wasn’t following. But you feel powerless, hoping you can muster any survival instincts from your time in the Upside Down to make your way back to safety.

🫀🫀🫀

At 7:58 p.m., Steve parks outside your house.

He’s more nervous than he needs to be. He tries to remember that this isn’t a visit to win you back, as much as he wishes it was. No, he’s respecting your decision. But he’s glad he has the chance to just talk to you.

After you dumped him, he spent way too much time overanalyzing that fight you two had in October. It solidified the fact that he was an ass, completely misunderstanding you and getting mad for no good fucking reason.

Admittedly, he was tempted to throw away all his progress and drink away his misery. But he didn’t, channeling that energy toward more productive things. His mind is clearer than it was, and he’s going to make it right this time. Steve wants to check on you, the way his friends checked on him while he was having a tough time. Their support was invaluable.

Steve rings your doorbell, shaking out his umbrella.

The front door swings open. Your father looks expectant, before he frowns.

“Steve, hello,” your father says. “Is Y/N with you?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m supposed to meet her here.”

Your father curses and puts his head in his hands.

“Is it her?” your mother says, rushing around the corner with the cordless phone tucked under her shoulder. When she sees Steve, her shoulders slump. She speaks into the phone, “Hopper, she’s still not back.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, heart sinking. “Y/N’s missing?”

“She never came back from Robin’s party,” your father says, stepping aside to let Steve in. “You saw her leave, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a nod. His mouth feels very, very dry.

Your mother continues murmuring on the phone with Hopper, and your father continues grilling Steve: “How was she? Did she seem upset?”

“A little nervous, maybe,” Steve says. He swallows hard. “I, uh, I think she was freaked out by the storm.”

You should’ve driven her home, Steve thinks. You idiot. If something happens to her, it’ll be your fault.

“She’s been so quiet lately,” your father says, voice strained. He clears his throat. “And so jumpy. But she said she wanted to start driving again. We thought she was getting better…”

Your father looks like he’s beside himself. Steve is unsure what to say to make things right.

Your mother hangs up the phone and sighs. “Hopper’s going to go look for her,” she says. She chokes out a sob. “Oh, Roger…she’s been so down lately. What if she…”

“Let’s not speculate,” your father says firmly, though he looks anxious about the possibilities.

Your parents decide to drive around looking for you, and Steve joins the search in his own car as well. He can’t sit idly by knowing you’re out there, possibly in distress, possibly in danger.

🫀🫀🫀

While you’re sitting against a tree trunk trying to shield yourself from the rain, there’s a morbid part of you that’s okay with this.

You wanted something bad to happen. You wanted to be in some kind of distress, because you being hurt means people have to care about you. Right? They have to really, truly see that you’ve been struggling but haven’t been able to ask for proper help.

You snap yourself out of that thought process, trying to remind yourself that people do care about you. But it’s hard to feel that way when you’ve put so much distance between yourself and the people you love.

You aren’t sure how long you sit in the rain having a pity party, watching your swollen ankle get bigger and bigger. You need to ice it and elevate it. And anytime longer in this rain, you’ll catch a cold.

So, you crawl on your hands and knees and find as sturdy a branch as you can on the forest floor. You use it as a pseudo walking stick to help you hobble back toward the trailer park. You know the way, thanks to your time traversing the forest daily in the Upside Down.

As you get closer to the break in the trees, you hear people calling for you. You shuffle there faster.

“I’m here!” you yell, stumbling through the tree line. “I’m here!”

It’s Chief Powell and Hopper, and they look relieved to see you. Officer Callahan and an animal control worker are trying to coax the mama dog and her three pups into crates.

“What happened, kid?” Hopper asks, sitting with you in the backseat of Powell’s truck while the other man radios for an ambulance and a tow truck for your car. The usual gruff timbre to Hopper's voice has a softened edge to it today, like he can sense your emotional fragility.

“Some jerk pushed me off the road. And I thought I saw…I—listen, the mud made the dog’s fur look gray, and I thought it was—”

“One of these hellhounds?”

You nod.

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” Hopper says. “But it’s been two years to the day since you…you know.”

You swallow hard.

“I didn’t remember,” you admit. “I mean, I knew the anniversary was coming up soon, I just…”

“We were all worried you…did something,” Hopper continues cautiously.

“I wouldn’t,” you say, much too quickly. “I mean, I feel like shit a lot of the time, but…no. I wouldn’t.”

Hopper nods, eyeing you. He doesn’t quite look convinced.

When the ambulance arrives, he rides with you to the hospital. Then, your parents meet you at the ER, while a doctor looks over your ankle.

It’s sprained, but not broken, thankfully. They send you home with a brace, some crutches, painkillers, and instructions to elevate and ice.

The whole drive home, your parents give you a speech about how much they love you and how they want to know how you’re doing, and that if you ever feel low, to talk to them because they can help. Normally, that kind of thing would annoy you, but after today—the fear of seeing what you thought was a demodog, of being back in the wilderness by yourself, even just for a few hours—you appreciate the gesture.

It's after midnight when you get home, and the rain has finally let up. Your dad helps you up the porch stairs, leaning the side with your bad leg against him the whole way. You almost don’t notice the note tacked to the front door until your mom points it out.

It has your name on it. You open it. Parts of it have been scratched out, but you can still read it all.

Hey, Y/N. I was driving around looking for you when Hopper found me. I’m so glad to hear that you’re going to be okay.

I’ll swing by tomorrow to chat, if you’re still up for it. If not, no worries. I know it’s a tough time. I just want you to know that I miss you I care about you more than you know I’m here.

-Steve

🫀🫀🫀

When Steve comes by the next day, he’s not alone.

You’re surprised to see him and Max Mayfield standing on your porch.

“Uh, hello!” you say. “How are you, Max?”

“Pretty good,” she says, “now that Steve is taking us for ice cream.”

You raise your eyebrows and adjust your stance on your crutches.

“Oh!” you say. You look to Steve. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Everything about his posture is tense, nervous. You wonder if this is an intervention or something—if you’ll arrive at the ice cream shop and be bombarded by the rest of your friends and a licensed professional promising a “safe space.”

You tell your parents where you’re going, promising a million times that you’ll be careful, and hobble down the porch steps to Steve’s waiting car. He’s a gentleman, one hand hovering behind your back and ready to catch you if you fall.

Max lets you have the passenger seat, likely due to your injury. On the ride over, you consider (politely) asking what she’s doing there, as you expected this conversation would be about the nature of your and Steve’s relationship.

A part of you deep, deep down had hoped he would beg you to take him back. A part of you deeper down felt selfish for that, but it was what you wanted.

You made a huge mistake letting him go.

Steve ends up taking you both to Sonic, pulling into one of the parking spots and pressing the “Order” button. Max leans up from the backseat, sticking her head between the two front seats, and rattles off a complicated order of hot dogs, fries, slushies, and ice cream into the speaker.

“I thought this was just ice cream,” you say with an eyebrow raised.

Max smirks.

“Moneybags Harrington is paying,” she says, patting him on the shoulder.

“I resent that,” Steve grouses. But there’s a sparkle in his eye.

When the food comes, Steve divvies it up amongst the three of you. However, he quickly comes up with a shoddy excuse to step out of the car—something about the fries being a medium instead of a large.

Max climbs over the center console to settle in the driver’s seat.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you’re alone with Max, but it’s definitely not, “Dying and coming back really sucks, doesn’t it?”

Your burger immediately tastes like sandpaper. “Oh, let’s not talk about that,” you say. “Let’s talk about fun things. Have you learned any new skate tricks recently?”

“Don’t deflect,” Max says, waving a french fry at you for emphasis. “Steve said you were having a hard time because no one could relate to you, and I’m probably the only person in the world who can.”

She’s not wrong. After your return to the right side of the universe, you learned that Max woke up from her coma, completely healed, after you killed Vecna and the gates closed. You hadn’t thought about how the two of you had similar, paralleled experiences.

“It does suck,” you say quietly, swirling your spoon around in your ice cream cup. “And I kind of feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“For me, it was a lot of anger,” Max says. She fidgets with her own food as she continues. “I couldn’t understand people’s priorities anymore. Like, what do you mean you’re worried about a chem test, Dustin? A few months ago, the world almost ended!”

“I totally get that,” you say, and your heart already feels lighter. “And my parents don’t understand what really happened, so they just don’t get me at all. Why I get so scared, so angry. So jumpy. It makes me feel like I’m a freak in their eyes.”

“I feel like my mom doesn’t even see me anymore,” Max says. She clears her throat and you catch a glimpse of tears gathering on her lash line before she roughly wipes them away. “Like to her, I’m a ghost.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you say. She scoffs.

“And there’s another annoying thing,” Max says. “The empty platitudes to make us feel better. That shit doesn’t fix anything!”

You’re not offended by her outburst, because you honestly agree. The two of you lament a bit longer, and by the end of the conversation, you’re feeling on top of the world. Sure, nothing is really fixed. But you finally realize that you have a kindred spirit in all this.

You and Max make a plan to do things together more often. You’re seeing her as a de facto little sister already, and you’re hopeful that your planned meetings will be just as beneficial for her as they are for you.

Steve comes back after what seems like a millennium, shooing Max back to the backseat.

“Took you long enough!” she says.

He just smiles.

🫀🫀🫀

JUNE 1988

It’s the first day of summer.

And it’s been a year to the day since you returned.

You expect to feel more anxious than you do. Instead, you feel peaceful.

You’re doing a lot better, genuinely. You found a new therapist (sorry, Elaine) and since it’s someone who worked with Dr. Owens, you’re able to spill all the gory details of your past and your trauma. Healing isn’t easy, but you feel yourself slowly sewing yourself back together again.

You and Max stick to your word and take weekly trips to Sonic. You talk about the heavy stuff, but also the normal life stuff. You sometimes have guests. This past week, Lucas and Mike tagged along, arguing the whole time about what should happen in the Ghostbusters sequel that’s supposed to release next year.

You and Steve…ah, what’s there to say. You want him back, but you imploded the relationship and it feels selfish to waltz up to him and say, “Hey, hot stuff. Wanna get back together?”

However, you’ve officially enrolled for the fall semester at U of I. While he’s home from Hawkins for summer break, under the guise of asking for tips about campus life, you spend a lot of time with him.

You also spend time in the library, doing some studying to catch up before you start your classes in the fall. Your high school graduation was a lifetime ago. Literally.

Steve, Robin, and Jonathan join you for those summertime study sessions, although Jonathan and Robin usually bicker over the music theory books and Steve doesn’t get much done except for doodling in his notebook. But sometimes you catch him staring at you, and then his cheeks flush pink in that adorable way that makes you want to do something stupid, like beg him to take you back.

If only you knew if he really felt the same…

…which you find out he does, during the summer solstice.

You’re at the county fair with your friends, but they’ve all run off to watch the fireworks, so it’s just you and Steve at a picnic table downing sodas and cotton candy.

Your fingers wrap around the cool glass of a now-empty Coke bottle, and you place it on the tabletop. You attempt to look nonchalant as you spin it slowly.

Once it’s picked up momentum, you let it go, watching it spin a few more times before stopping it with your hand when the bottle neck points at Steve.

“It’s you,” you whisper, attempting to recreate that magical first kiss moment from years and years ago. You clear your throat at Steve’s dumbfounded expression. “Ah, sorry. You don’t have to kiss me. I was just…”

To your pleasant surprise, Steve’s face splits into a grin. “Well, gee, Y/N,” he says. “If you wanted to kiss me that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

A million canaries titter a love song in your heart as he leans forward.

The two of you kiss, for the first time in a long time.

The great divide in your soul is starting to seal. And everything feels right.

THE END

🫀🫀🫀

a/n please lmk what you thought 🩵

tags; @aloneinthehellfire @starry-eyed-steve @hollandweather @wisdomssdaughterr @huffledor-able541 @springautumn

@sunshinesteviee @curiositydooropened @crappymixtape

#st fic: oj #st fic: tgd #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic

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sehtoast · 1 month

Text

Perfect Punishment (Homelander x gn!Reader Smut)

18+ | spanking, leg humping, technically supe!reader (vague), sublander, light choking | Fic Directory

Suffice it to say, you're never quite sure how you end up in these situations. Granted, the common denominator in all of them was that Homelander was an endlessly voracious man in need of an infinite amount of attention, and he'd go to any lengths to get it.

Even this.

“Mmm, harder…” He hums as your palm strikes his rear, a playful grin etching into his face at the resounding slap.

“I thought this was a punishment,” you say as you rub soothing circles over the red of his briefs. “Doesn’t really count if you like it.” You're almost ready to stop and leave him hanging as a real punishment.

“Right, right. Ah! Ow!”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. You'd teased him about being such a bad boy, but it seemed like he was all too happy to fill that role. His behavior cranked past ten, and now here you are: The Homelander himself bent over your knee, underwear pulled down just a smidge and pants at his ankles.

You're not even sure who made the spanking joke first, but god knows his eyes practically lit up like a Christmas tree at the mere mention.

For his smart comment, you swat significantly harder. You could never actually hurt him– maybe just sting him a little. In fact, you have a sneaking suspicion that the power dynamic reversal is what has him rocking against your thigh like the needy little thing he is. So pathetically horny at the idea of being weak and vulnerable for you.

Of being punished by you.

Not even his commentary could hide it.

“Oooh, that one tickled.” He snarks one more time, but his voice betrays him completely. A slight quiver in his words, a shaky breath exhaled, cheeks turning a light pink. “C'mon, babe. Give it to me. Unless you're all talk…”

Antagonistic little…

You grip his briefs and rip them clean off, revealing his bare ass to knead and squeeze to your heart's content. You loop an arm around his neck, restricting his throat between your forearm and bicep, tugging him just enough to make his back arch.

“You're a very bad boy,” you whisper, nails scratching his glutes. What little fabric survived the rip still miraculously covers his cock as he grinds against you unabashedly. You wind up for the swing and–

“Mmph!”

Like music to your ears, he chokes on the cutest little sound. Something squeaky and precious, surprise vocalizing high in his throat at your sudden brazenness and strength.

“You just wanted to hump my leg like a dog, didn't you?” You accuse, tightening your arm at his neck. You rub your last strike tenderly, letting your fingers slip along the curve of his crack. You can practically feel the way he shivers against you. “You’re makin’ a mess down there, aren’t you baby?”

Even pressed firm against your leg, you can feel his drooling cock twitch with need. The surviving scrap of fabric has to be drenched at this rate– you can almost feel the heated moisture and you know damn well his cock weeps practically the whole time he’s aroused on a regular day.

A breathy moan escapes his slack mouth the second your fingertips graze his sack, hips bucking forward to seek more of whatever delicious friction he'd found against your lap.

“You just wanted to lay on me and get played with like the little whore you are.” You trail your hand back and grip a cheek as hard as you can, nails biting into his flesh. “Admit it. You acted out for attention.”

“Mmm, yeah– fuck,” he confesses through a breathless whisper.

For his honesty, you reward him with a warm palm to his balls, feeling them tighten every time a pulse of pleasure surges through his body from how you play with him.

He keens softly, eyes screwing shut against the twist of bliss knotting in his core. He ruts even more brazenly than before, as if he wasn’t just getting spanked mere moments prior for always having to have his way. Your body rocks with the strength of his thrusts, so you angle your leg to press back against him. Sure, he was being ‘punished,’ but you’re not totally cruel.

“You wanna be my good boy, right?” You ask ever so innocently in his ear, breath fanning against the shell of it in a way that makes him arch further back. His mindless little nods make you grin sharply. “I thought so…”

Your hand comes down with a sharp crack against his right cheek and he writhes against you, mewling through his restricted throat.

“Count ‘em off for me,” you say, squeezing his neck a little more. You let off for a moment only to remind him to speak up if something’s too much, then squeeze again.

Slap!

“O-One!” He announces, hips bucking against you.

You can hear it in his voice– he’s like a time bomb ready to blow. His expression is infinitely more desperate. Hooded red eyes, cheeks burning a deep crimson, tongue peeking out just over the edge of his lower lip. If there was ever an image fit to sit beside whore in a dictionary, it was the sight of him like this.

“Tell me how good you’re gonna be for me after this.”

“I’m– I’m gonna be so good!” He promises through panted breaths. “Good for you– good f–”

You don’t let him finish before you swat his reddening flesh several more times in quick succession, watching with pure satisfaction as that mouth that never stops running opens to moan so loudly you’re almost sure the floor below must have heard it.

“N-Nine… No– no, fuck!”

Poor thing had to make a guess.

You tsk at him in false disapproval. “Good boys don’t lose count,” you say, even though he was definitely right. “Start again.”

And he did, too. By the time you make it back to the count of nine, his legs are quivering and his precum has soaked through the leg of your pants.

“Please, please, please!” He mewls desperately. “Let me– oh fuck, please let me come! Please, just– fuck I need it! I’ll be good!” He’s rocking against you without permission of any type as he spouts off promise after promise to behave himself for you. “Good– good b-boy… I’m your g’boy, I p-prom– ohfuckohfuckohfuck!”

And just like that, he’s blowing a thick, creamy load against you, legs spasming and glowing eyes rolling back in his head as you hold him through what must be an absolutely earth shattering orgasm if the full body trembling was anything to go by. Your name falls from his lips in a repeated prayer until all he can do is simply mouth it silently.

Your lips are to his ear the whole time, whispering affections and praise, adoration and love in droves.

“You are my good boy,” you say, accentuating your words with soft caresses to his sack. “My very, very good boy that I love so much.”

“M’your g’boy…” he murmurs weakly, eyes shut as he sinks into the glow. For a second, you think he might actually be calm for the rest of the evening.

Who are you kidding? He’s going to act up all night after this. You wager you've got about fifteen minutes of aftercare and snuggles before that switch flips and you're fucked on every horizontal and vertical surface he can possibly think of.

And you?

You’re gonna love every fucking second of it.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander smut #the boys #antony starr

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jellys-compendium · 2 months

Text

Lovebug

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Sinister!Vash x f!Reader Word Count: 7.9K Summary: You've been running for a long time, miraculously evading the destructive storm on your heels. But one fateful night you find yourself trapped and unable to escape the humanoid typhoon any longer. He'll make you regret running from him. Cw: blood, gun violence, side character death, noncon to dubcon, predator/prey dynamics, smut, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, rough sex, p in v sex, gunplay, choking, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), cumming inside, dacryphilia, yandere, obsessive/possessive behaviour, manipulation, mind breaking, pet names, degradation & praise.

A/n: This is a dark fic. Read the content warnings before proceeding. If this sort of writing isn't your thing, please don't read! I will have a softer fic for Vash coming in the near future. Also, just a quick note that for narrative purposes , I decided to interpret Sinister!Vash as Vash turning evil (not as a separate entity).

The sharp scent of rust lingers in your nose. It couples with the muted dusty air and further serves to dry out your parched throat. Each time you swallow in an attempt to alleviate your thirst, it feels like sandpaper scrapes along your esophagus. Money be damned, you would trade every last double dollar you own for a glass of water right now.

Unfortunately for you, not a single one of the sheriff’s men had come to check up on your sorry state since you’d been caught, cuffed, and thrown into this dingy cell hours ago. They’d locked you in here and thrown away the key as it were. Guess you shouldn’t be surprised, given the bounty on your head.

Heaving a sigh, you lean back against the cold concrete wall of your prison, your movement causing the tattered and smelly cot supporting you to creak and groan. With little else to do, your mind wanders to the earlier events of the day.

How did you get yourself into this mess?

You’d been so painstakingly careful to keep your head down and profile low in every town you had passed by for the last year. Not a single soul, let alone law enforcement, had ever suspected that you were the former partner of the legendary humanoid typhoon. So how is it that the sheriff of this backwater little town had you figured out the moment you’d set foot in his jurisdiction?

With a metaphorical fine toothed comb, your mind analyzes each and every interaction you’ve had since the morning, searching for clues on how you’d been discovered—but nothing clicks into place. You hadn’t spoken a whisper about your true identity, or about Vash, to anybody since you’d quit and run from his company of outlaws.

On top of that you were careful to cover your tracks, doing everything in your power to erase all that you were before disappearing into the night in a hail mary attempt at a better life—one that wasn’t tainted with lies and blood.

A gnawing sorrow aches in your chest at the thought of your former lover, and you can’t help but reach up and rub over that hollow space under your breastbone. Deep down you still love Vash more than anyone else but…you will have no part in his cruelty.

You don’t know when it started, but Vash had changed into a person you no longer recognize. Gone was the kind gunman clad in red with a broken smile, and in his place emerged another person entirely. He was vicious, manipulative, and cruel. Taking lives without regard in order to get what he wanted. Within the span of a few months, Vash had truly transformed into the monster that the people of this planet fear him to be—and that had completely and irrevocably broken your heart.

For months you had feared that Vash would pick up on your trail and track you down in retaliation for your abandoning of his little group. But as the weeks stretched on, the suns rising and falling with each passing day, your nerves settled and you surmised that Vash must have had better things to do rather than chase you down.

‘He must have found someone else to warm his bed by now.’

The intrusive thought clings to your mind incessantly, and you desperately attempt to force it away with a shake of your head. No. You’d left that life behind, you’ve left him behind for a reason .

Vash would have devoured you—consumed you whole and then spit out your bones if you hadn’t left when you did. The way Vash makes you feel is beyond anything you had ever experienced before. He’s intoxicating, addicting, seductive—a devil that beguiles you with sweet whispers in one ear, while holding the barrel of a gun against the other.

For a time, you had lost yourself in his coils—exchanging your humanity for a burning desire that had scorched your body and soul. But before the humanoid typhoon could corrupt you completely, you escaped.

And…you ran.

And ran,

And ran.

Until that murderous, crimson eyed shadow that followed each of your footsteps surrendered to the sunshine above, and disappeared amidst the blistering sands of No Man’s Land. You were finally free, and although there is a dark and secret part of you that still longs for Vash, you know that you did the right thing.

Abruptly, a distant rumble captures your ear. Perking up, your gaze is led from the dark shadows in the corner of your cell towards the distant door leading out of the jailhouse’s cell room. Your body stills as the roaring commotion gets louder, your muscles sit taut as you listen and try to decipher the noises coming from beyond the bars.

You hear footsteps, shouts and— gunfire .

Gunfire, then screams.

Adrenaline kicks into high gear and you immediately get up from the stained cot, racing towards the door of your cell. Your cuffed hands grasp the cold bars of your prison as more blood curdling screams fill the air. Was it a robbery? Bandits? Or could it really be?

The monstrous possibility of what awaits just beyond that door sends you into a panic. Panting frantically, you use your entire body weight to rattle the bars in a foolhardy attempt to wiggle the cell door free. But of course, the iron door does not budge.

‘No.’ You ram your shoulder against the door.

‘No!’

Your arm screams out in pain as you use your entire body weight this time.

‘This can’t be happening! It can’t be him!’

“Sheriff!! Sheriff!!” You shout desperately. “Let me out! Let me out!”

The terrible thundering of gunshots and panicked commotion intensifies. Pounding footsteps race down the hallway and shake the floorboards just beyond the prison cell door. You shudder when you hear the terrified screams from the men warbling through the wood and concrete, sharp and horrifying but then—silence.

Oh god. They’re all…

Blood pulses in your ears, making you feel faint as the song of more bullets sings through the air. Even from your iron cage, you can tell the shots are precise—every single one effectively ending the lives of the Sheriff's men one by one. Within mere moments, the once lively jailhouse had become as silent as a graveyard. The only sounds you hear now are a single pair of creaking footsteps and…a song.

“Total slaughter~

Total slaughter

I won’t leave a single man alive…”

Oh god—it is him .

Releasing the bars of your cell door, you frantically begin to look around the dim lit space. A bucket and the cot are all you have to work with. Shit.

The footsteps come closer.

“...La dee da dee die

Genocide~

La dee da dee dud

An ocean of blood…”

You detect a sound of heavy shuffling just outside and you look on, terrified , as the door leading to the jail’s cells creaks open. You freeze, legs nearly giving out from fear, but…it isn’t Vash.

Instead, into the room crawls a man—a man that you recognize as the Sheriff's deputy. He’s breathing hard, petrified little whimpers escaping his lips with each exhale.

Trapped as you are you can do nothing but watch, wide eyed and horrified, as the man crawls into the room on all fours. His brown vest, white shirt, and slacks are covered with blood. More of it drips from his disheveled hair, leaving a gruesome trail of dark red as he shakingly makes his way across the floorboards and towards your cell.

The deputy’s face is pale white and pouring sweat as he looks up at you…except he isn’t looking up at you. It almost looks like he’s looking through you.

“M–m–monster…h–he’s a monster.” The man whimpers, his red teeth chattering like tin cans in the wind. Trembling, the deputy reaches towards your cell door with a bloodied hand and his eyes finally lock with yours.

“H—help me.”

The sight of this man near death immobilizes you with terror, but as the man’s fingers wrap around one of the bars of your cell, the urgency in your gut magnifies, overwhelming the piercing fear inside of you. You have to try and save him. You have to.

Moving quickly, you squat down, reaching for the deputy’s hand, you grasp it tightly with yours.

“Give me the keys. Help me open the door so I can get us out of here.”

But the man doesn’t move. Instead he mutters and weeps, his voice strained and high with each incoherent syllable he babbles.

Frustrated and frantic, you bang your hand against the bars, hoping that the jolt will startle the deputy to his senses.

“Hey! Are you listening?! Give me the keys or he’s going to—”

A piercing gunshot rings through the air and you leap up with a shout as the air rushes out of the deputy’s lungs. The deputy’s eyes turn dull, and you cry out in horror as his body jerks and then falls still at your feet.

He’s…he’s…

“Let’s begin…

The killing time”

It takes all the courage you have left to lift your gaze and follow the blood stains left by the deputy. Eventually, your eyes land on a black pair of leather boots. Moving upwards, your sight lingers along the familiar dark blue coat tails—their ripped and tattered ends doused with fresh blood. Your attention moves up that infamous coat and finally lands on the face of the humanoid typhoon himself.

Vash the Stampede.

The outlaw’s crimson eyes stare directly into your own, shackling you in place more effectively than the metal cuffs around your wrists ever could. His eyes are intense as they focus on you, possessive and all consuming. It was only a matter of time before he found you, and you were an idiot to think that you could evade him forever.

As if agreeing with that very thought, a sly grin spreads across Vash’s handsome face. Like a ravenous wildcat who had finally caught his prey, the humanoid typhoon exhales a breath of relief and holsters his gun.

“There you are.”

Vash approaches your cell and all you can do is silently watch as he bends down and yanks the ring of keys off of the deputy’s belt. Vash is methodical as always. Moving like a serpent in water, he never wastes a single movement. Each and every action of his is calculated and designed to lead him towards his ultimate goal.

And tonight, his goal is you.

Vash never takes his eyes off you as he slips the key into its slot with a poignant click. Then with a flick of his wrist the door unlocks, and Vash swings it wide open.

Your body’s response is immediate. Trembling, you retreat blindingly backwards until your body hits the concrete wall of your cell. Vash tsks, following your movements with inhumanly long strides of his own. It only takes a second for him to catch up with you—his body towering over yours once he closes that distance you were so desperate to create.

You jolt as Vash’s hands reach up and grasp your own, leather clad fingers lacing around your trembling digits as he lifts your cuffed wrists to his face. He leans down, and brushes his lips along the cold flesh of your palm, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

“Oh my poor little lovebug.” Vash sensually coos, his deceivingly soft and gentle voice echoing along the iron bars. “What have they done to you?”

Gods, you should be repulsed and terrified, but instead of turning your blood to ice, Vash’s touch causes your entire body to instantly be consumed by a sweet and agonizing flame. The cinders that linger in your heart reignite and burn tenfold at the touch of the man that you love so dearly.

“Lovebug.”

Like a siren, Vash’s hypnotizing whisper lulls away your fear—enchanting you.

“So frightened. You’re shaking like a newborn kitten. Come here, let me hold you.”

As if the choice were yours, Vash pulls your body flush against his. You gasp as the familiar sensation of his strong arms wraps around you and overpowers your resolve. His warm scent, the feeling of his lips as he so tenderly kisses your cheek, the weight of his hands as they glide up and down your back in a soothing motion. All of it brings tears of turmoil to your eyes.

No…this can’t happen again.

“I’m sorry, lovebug. If I had known they would treat you like this I would have come for you sooner.”

Come for you? As in, Vash knew where you’d been this entire time?

Your mind reels at the realization. You had never escaped Vash’s shadow. Instead it had grown so large and widespread that you’d failed to notice it all around you.

The people who let you on your way and turned a blind eye to your identity, those kind souls who had given you food to eat and a bed to sleep in when you were weary, even the men of this town who had arrested you as an accomplice of the humanoid typhoon. Every single one of them had been an instrument of Vash’s own design.

Vash places a final kiss upon your cheek. Pulling back, he smiles at your dumbfounded expression.

“Let’s get you out of these cuffs.”

Vash lets your hands fall, his fingers flicking through the keyring until he finds the one he is looking for. How Vash knows exactly which key to use, you are not sure, but it’s no surprise when he selects one and slips it into the cuff’s lock. He frees you immediately with a twist of his hand.

The metal cuffs fall to the floor with a resounding thud and your breath leaves you in a hiss as the dry hair hits your raw skin. But before you can soothe your own pain, Vash takes your wrists in his grasp, thumbs gently gliding over the reddened skin as he pulls you closer once more.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you feel Vash lean in, the heat of his body encompassing as his lips brush against yours.

“Have you learned your lesson? You won’t run away from me again, right lovebug?”

Vash’s sinister words send a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps erupt all across your flesh as the skin on your fingertips tingles. This man has orchestrated every part of your life for the past year without you even knowing about it. What are the limits to his reach? His cruelty? His obsession? How far will he go to claim you as his own?

In your silence Vash releases a heavy sigh, then places a soft kiss on your lips.

“I asked you a question.”

The words catch in your dry and tightening throat. You swallow, lips trembling as you try your best to speak.

“Vash, I—”

Before you can finish, pounding footsteps vibrate through the jailhouse, and it’s not long before four men appear in the doorway with guns drawn and their expressions terrified at the massacre laying at their feet.

The moment the men lay their eyes on Vash, the four of them let out a roar of fury.

“The humanoid typhoon!”

“You bastard!”

“Kill him!”

But before the men manage to aim their pistols, four gunshots whistle through the air in rapid succession. You didn’t even realize that Vash had unholstered his own gun before the four men dropped lifeless on the floor.

A fresh wave of despair courses through you and your head spins as the humanoid typhoon—the diablo —reholsters his gun and returns his attention to you. His face is calm and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just murdered an entire building full of people.

“Now, where were we?”

Panic stabs through your chest, kick starting your fight or flight. You have to get away, you have to escape him. Being a murderer, an outlaw on the run, isn’t who you are anymore. You’d promised yourself that you would leave that life behind, no matter how much you wanted the man who’d seduced you into that life in the first place.

Clenching your fists to try and subvert your shaking, you start to move your body to the right, readying yourself to pounce around Vash and make a break for the door. But Vash’s scarlet gaze sees through your every move long before you even conceptualize it. He sighs, rolling his eyes before slamming his palm on the concrete by your head, trapping you in his reach.

Your body jolts at the vibrations of the impact. Then Vash leans in, hot breath on your lips as he whispers a dark promise.

“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”

No sooner had Vash uttered those foreboding words, more footsteps pound through the halls of the jailhouse. An irritated growl rumbles in Vash’s throat as he unholsters his gun once more and aims it at the door, hissing between his teeth.

“Cockroaches.”

Two more men emerge from the doorway and time slows as you watch Vash’s finger glide seamlessly towards the trigger.

Against all reasonable sense, your body moves. Lightening fast, you launch yourself at Vash, grasping his wrist in your hands and pushing his arm upwards with all of your might. Your sudden movement takes the humanoid typhoon off guard, and the two bullets he had intended to place right between the men’s eyes whistle and lodge into the wooden roof above.

“RUN!”

Using your body to knock Vash off balance, you bolt for the cell door, leaping over the bodies on the floor as the two men in front of you turn tail and run as fast as their legs can carry them.

Your lungs burn as you follow them, racing out of the jail as if it were about to be engulfed in a raging inferno. Following closely behind the men in front of you, the three of you eventually manage to scramble out of the jailhouse. The cool night air hits your face and you pause. The street is dark and empty, and the two men who had just run out before you were racing towards the light of the neighboring town.

You desperately want to follow them, to find sanctuary in the safe bustle of a populated town square. But Vash has his sights set on you, and you know you’ll only serve to put more innocent lives at risk if you look for help now.

The sudden sound of eerie humming echoes through the jailhouse behind you. You turn, body trembling and eyes wide as you search the darkness. Then almost as soon as that strange tune had started, it stops.

A cold shiver of fear tingles down your spine at the foreboding silence. Then out of the darkness you hear Vash shout menacingly, his voice morphing into an inhuman two-toned scream that you’d never heard before.

It curdles your blood.

“MAYFLY!”

You bolt, stray tears blinding your vision as you scramble like mad down the dirt dusted path in the opposite direction of town. Your breath rushes in and out of you at record speed as you rush towards the abandoned buildings lining the town’s outskirts. If you could just make it there and hide yourself in the shadows of broken and discarded concrete, you might stand a chance.

But of course, much like a panicked animal with no sense of direction, your path twists and turns as you mindlessly try to find a good place to hide—only to wind up trapping yourself in a dead end. An empty alleyway illuminated solely by moonlight.

“No, no, no!”

You prepare to turn on your heel to retrace your steps but the moment you spin to face the other direction, your body becomes paralyzed with shock. Vash is standing right behind you . Somehow he had silently kept up with you, hounding your steps like a hungry dog from the depths of hell.

Vash smiles.

“Found you.”

The unearthly flash of his red eyes shines in the darkness before a rush of wind gusts through the night. It’s then that you notice a single distorted, black feathered wing adorning Vash’s back. It stretches magnificently in the moonlight and you notice a gleaming, razor sharp talon adorning the juncture at the top of those cascading feathers. Your jaw drops. You had never seen Vash with wings before.

Vash takes a single step forward and stops when he sees you tremble. He watches you closely, both of you bodies still. And in that quiet moment, your soul is drawn into those deep crimson pools.

Mayfly…mayfly… lovebug …

Inexplicably, the tension eases from your body, limbs becoming still as if every part of you were surrendering to its fate. A devilishly handsome grin spreads across Vash’s lips as he watches your defiant spark finally simmer into nothing but harmless embers.

“Awww, trapped yourself again, little lovebug?” Vash chuckles darkly, his tone mocking. “Poor, sweet thing. You always seem to wind up in a cage.”

Your jaw clenches. How could Vash say that, when he was the one who drove you here in the first place? When he is the very cage itself?

“Y–you murdered those innocent people.”

Vash exhales a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as the large black feathers on his wing bristle with irritation.

“Innocent? I’d hardly call them that.” The typhoon's playful expression falls and then darkens, and his voice shifts into a tone of dead seriousness.

“They laid their hands on you.”

Before you can even blink, Vash is before you—a great shadow that looms and blocks out all light except that of the eerie glow of his gaze. Vash’s hands wrap around your wrists, squeezing the raw skin and making you gasp with pain.

“They shackled you and locked you up in that cold, dark place. They hurt you, lovebug.”

Your molars sink into the inside of your cheek as you try to combat your cowardice with pain. You glare at the man before you, and spit out your next words like venom.

“Only because you had orchestrated it. You’re the mastermind here, not them.”

The sinister grin that pulls at the corner’s of Vash’s mouth confirms everything you had suspected. He truly is…a monster.

With a swift movement, Vash yanks on your wrists and jerks your body closer to his. You gasp, straining against him in vain. The heat that radiates off of Vash’s body slams into your skin as his single black wing swoops down to envelop you further. He’s warm—so warm—an ambrosia unlike any other.

“Clever girl.” Vash whispers before planting a chaste little kiss on the tip of your nose.

You shudder.

“Are—are you going to hurt me?”

Your question isn’t meant to elicit any sympathy, but Vash’s red eyes soften once he hears them and his grip around your wrists loosen. As if apologizing with his hands, Vash’s fingers circle and soothe your abused flesh.

“Oh lovebug, never. I absolutely adore you. I’d never let any harm come to you.”

Vash brings your wrists to his lips, pressing hot kisses against your cold skin. The flames in your belly coil, reigniting as they are fueled by the rhythm of your heart. Vash is weaving his spell again, coaxing you back into that syrupy sweet web of deceit and rapture.

And…you’re falling for it. Falling for him all over again.

“But,” Vash murmurs. His hot tongue slipping out of his mouth to swipe along your bruised skin.

“You should be punished for trying to run from me.”

Air gusts out of your lungs as Vash pushes your body backwards. He manhandles you with ease before pinning your form against the frigid wall behind you. The claw at the juncture of where his wing bends pierces into the concrete with a terrible scraping sound and pins your wrists to the wall above your head, rendering you completely helpless.

Then, Vash’s nimble fingers undo the button of your slacks.

Jaw dropping, you cry out with rage, cursing Vash and kicking your feet against his legs as you try to fight back. But it’s as if you are battling against a tornado. Nothing you do phases him, and in one single, practiced movement, Vash rids you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your shirt and underwear.

“Vash!” You screech, nailing him with another swift kick to the shin. “How could y–”

Words are stolen from your lips and your body completely freezes when you suddenly feel the glide of cold metal between your legs. You look down, and your heart nearly stops when you realize Vash has placed the barrel of his gun flush against your panty covered pussy.

The sound of Vash’s dark laughter turns your blood to ice. He leans forwards and presses his burning lips against the corner of your mouth.

“Ever played Russian roulette?” He whispers.

Eyes wide with panic, you turn your head to look at Vash—silently pleading for him to reconsider, to show you mercy and let you go. But Vash’s expression is calm and resolute.

“How about I make you a deal.” He muses. You watch, tense and breathless, as Vash’s thumb caresses the hammer of his .45 long colt.

“If you can come before I get to the last bullet in the cylinder, we’ll consider your punishment served, alright?”

No. No, no, no, no.

“Vash, please—”

Brushing aside your protest, Vash presses the gun harder against your cunt, grinding the top of the cold barrel between your folds. You gasp sharply, arching against the icy friction as Vash pushes the gun further between your clenched thighs.

The rear sight bumps against your clit and you whimper as a rush of heat gushes between your legs. Vash grins at your reaction, thrusting the gun harder against your tender flesh.

“That’s it, lovebug” Vash coos. “Feels so good doesn’t it?”

The hammer of the gun clicks, and you have to stifle a pathetic squeal before it can escape. Vash’s smile widens, eyes alight with excitement—then he pulls the trigger.

Blank.

Your body sags.

“One.” Vash purrs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus singularly on your goal. You have to come before Vash gets to that last bullet. You have to.

Hot puffs of air leave you open mouth in desperate whines as you start to piston your hips against the barrel of Vash’s gun, rubbing your swelling clit and folds against the harsh metal at his command.

A pleased hum rumbles in Vash’s chest as the obsidian feathers above you shudder with delight.

“Yes,” Vash breathes, leaning down to sample your flesh. His sharp canines tease along the column of your throat, and the feeling of his hot breath fanning across your skin makes you shiver and mewl. Your pussy twitches, nipples hardening as you start to melt in his hands.

“Good girl.”

The cylinder of the gun turns and you groan, grinding your pussy harder along that metal length. All logical thought disappears as the intoxicating pleasure of Vash’s game overpowers your mind. Like a worm on a hook, Vash has you in his grasp—he always has.

Another click of the trigger, another blank.

“Two.”

Vash’s mouth latches onto your throat now, his tongue and teeth caressing and nipping your skin as his free hand rises up to grope your neglected breast, pinching and teasing at your puckered nipple with greedy fingers.

Lewd moans fall from your lips as jolts of pleasure ricochet through your body. A desperate plea of Vash’s name fills the air as you slick drips from your fluttering cunt, lubing up the gun between your folds.

“Mmmm,” Vash moans, pink tongue languidly licking at his bottom lip. His eyes are glued to the spectacle before him.

“That’s it, rub that pussy, baby. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Vash’s gun clicks once more. Thankfully, it’s another blank.

“Three.”

Only three more changes remain, and one of them is deadly. Knowing this, your movements become more desperate, grinding yourself against Vash’s gun with fervor as sweat begins to pour down your brow and back. Your body trembles, and you try not to think about how you must look, humping Vash’s gun like a bitch in heat.

Oh god.

You’re scared but you’re positively throbbing for Vash’s touch. You haven’t been touched once since you’d escaped his clutches, and despite everything that has happened and the new life you had chosen, you are still so foolishly in love with him.

The people of this land may have been the ones you have chosen to side with, but Vash is the only one in your dreams. Vash is the only one who can make you feel like this. He haunts you and corrupts you. Fucks you and devours you.

Vash is the diablo you just can’t shake.

Releasing your throat with a hungry growl, Vash’s mouth travels up to passionately kiss your lips. You moan wantonly, accepting his tongue with unrestrained lust as you attempt to arch your body closer to his. Vash’s tongue swirls in tandem with yours, groaning into your mouth as he readies another shot. You whimper against him, fingernails digging into his feathers.

“Vash…”

Click

Blank.

“Four.” Vash pants, his tongue plunging into your mouth once more, matching in time with the thrusts of his gun. Paradoxically fucking you brutally and sweetly at the same time.

Vash angles his gun upwards, teasing the metal shaft against your entrance. And gods, you know you should be terrified—fighting him tooth and nail for not only your dignity but your life. But as the now warmed and lubed metal of his gun plays with your entrance, all you can do is arch and moan like a whore.

An alluringly dark chuckle rings in your ears as Vash’s grip on your breast tightens. You gasp as he pinches your nipple and rolls it harshly between his fingers.

“Wishing it was my cock, lovebug?”

You shake your head back and forth, and Vash’s grin widens.

“Don’t lie, of course you are. You’ve always been such a dirty little slut for me.”

Vash pinches your nipple harder—a punishment for your little lie—and you cry out as the cylinder makes another round. This time, Vash doesn’t wait, he immediately pulls the trigger, eliciting a yelp of fear from the depths of your lungs.

Sure enough, it’s another blank.

“Five.” Vash chuckles. He releases your breast, and you watch as his hand travels down to the front of his pants, palming the thick hot bulge that sits just underneath his coat.

“Oh, one more baby. You’ve been sooo lucky so far. Think you’re gonna cum before this gun blows your pussy sky high?”

Your words tangle in your throat, so you elect to nod rapidly instead. Your teeth sink into your lip as you furiously rub your cunt along the length of the gun, purposefully catching your clit on the metal grooves at the base with each thrust.

Fuck. Fuuuuck.

Almost there. Almost there!

The cylinder turns one final time as Vash’s finger glides sensually along the trigger. He kisses you again, his tongue diving deep into your mouth, drinking in everything you have to give him. Vash swallows your scream, and then pulls the trigger.

…

Nothing.

Both your hips and the gun still, and Vash laughs gleefully at your confused and near delirious expression. He grins like a cat who had just eaten the canary, and then presses a tender little kiss to your lips.

“Six.”

Vash pulls the gun out from between your legs, the barrel glistening in the moonlight with your slick as he brings it up to your line of sight.

“Hmm, soaked it right through your panties didn’t you? What a little slut.”

Vash's long pink tongue snakes out from between his lips, and you watch—mesmerized and aroused to high heaven— as he licks the barrel of the gun clean. Vash’s eyes never leave you once as he purrs with satisfaction at your taste.

When he’s finished, Vash holsters his gun then wraps that now free hand around your throat while the other lands heavily on your hip.

Your breath stalls as the fingers on your hip snake around and down into the waistband of your flimsy cotton underwear, body jolting as they slip inside and reach all the way down to your messy pussy.

“Vash,” You whimper as his leather clad fingers toy with your swollen clit.

“Vash…”

The wing that holds your hands captive disappears, and you sigh with relief as your arms fall and land on top Vash’s shoulders.

“Hold onto me little lovebug,” Vash coos, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Fuck, you are so cute.”

Without reserve, Vash plunges two of his fingers into your sex. Your back arches, and you moan loudly as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to take his thick fingers deeper. You need him. You need him so desperately you feel like you’re gonna break.

Saccharine praise falls in hushed whispers from Vash’s lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot as he thrusts into your sloppy pussy ruthlessly. The wet squelch of your flesh lovingly sucking his fingers echoes across the empty hallway—indisputable proof oh just how much you want him.

“So wet. Gonna come on my fingers, lovebug? Think I should let you?”

You nod your head frantically, legs straining as you stand on the tips of your toes, thrusting against his hand with a wild cry—your cunt pulses and then practically weeps into his palm.

“YES! YES! Vash—please, please, let me come. Pleeease. ”

Oh, fuuuck. You’re so close. You’re gonna cum, just a little more.

Vash smiles that dazzling handsome smile of his as his fingers tighten around your throat, cutting off most of your air and making your head spin. Your cunt squeezes around Vash’s fingers as he thrusts them inside, only for him to bully your g-spot until you cry.

“So pretty when you beg, baby.” Vash coos, licking a fallen tear from your cheek.

“But…”

His fingers slip out of your puffy walls, and you cry out with frustration, fists banging against his shoulders like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum.

But Vash just laughs at you, and before you can give him a piece of your mind, he slides off your ruined panties and hoists you up into the air. Your back presses against the crumbling wall as your thighs come to rest on Vash’s shoulders.

He’s so strong.

Monster…

Without delay, Vash’s mouth dives between the twitching folds of your sex, and you scream up into the starless sky.

God, Vash always knows just how to pull you apart. He always manages to find that frayed and loose thread of your willpower, wrap it around his lithe fingers, and then pull it oh-so-gently. The reward of watching you as you unravel before him must have been the sweetest euphoria, because he kept doing it. Again and again.

“You taste so good.” Vash growls hotly against your sex.

“Admit it, no one can treat you as good as I do.”

Vash’s tongue flattens along your pussy, red eyes making contact with yours and holding you there as he slowly and sensually circles his tongue around your clit.

“They don’t know how to worship this pussy properly.”

“Vash,” You beg, throat tightening as you choke on your tears. “Please, let me come. I’m aching.”

Wordlessly, Vash laps your clit into his mouth, giving it one harsh suck before snagging it between his teeth. You cry out, fingers burning into his white locks as he releases you.

“There, there lovebug. Spread your legs wider. You can take my tongue for just a little bit longer, right?”

Begrudgingly, you do as he says, and Vash groans as you spread yourself open just for him. The humanoid typhoon dives in again, lapping hungry stripes along your cunt—spitting on your little hole and then collecting every drop of his saliva and your slick that he can gather before readily swallowing every drop.

“I haven’t tasted you for a whole year.” Vash growls against your folds, the tip of his nose rubbing forcefully against your clit and making you see stars.

“It was torture being without you.”

Vash begins to thrust his tongue into your sex, sloppily eating then sucking your throbbing flesh into his mouth. With his body, Vash passionately coaxes out every hidden little secret you’d buried deep. You scream with rapture in his hands, more tears falling freely down your face as you rapidly unravel in Vash’s hands.

“Vash, don’t stop! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Anything you ask! Please!”

But just as you’re about to reach your climax, your pussy clenching sweetly around Vash’s talented tongue, the heat of Vash’s mouth slips away.

The wail of despair that is ripped from your throat echoes pathetically into the desert air.

Vash chuckles at your anguish, giving your pussy one last cheeky lick before lowering you back to the ground.

The moment your feet touch the floor, your body sways, unsteady and dizzy from the unfulfilled pleasure that Vash had ransacked through your body.

But Vash holds you steady as he pushes his coat to the side and unbuckles himself. Your half hooded eyes fall to the place where he’s touching but before you can catch a glimpse, Vash positions you facing the wall, ass out and hands up—bracing yourself.

You shiver at the loss of Vash’s warmth. Your trembling doesn’t escape Vash’s notice, but before he decides to comfort you, Vash gives your cunt a healthy slap.

You shriek, tossing a fiery glare at him over your shoulder. Infuriatingly, Vash gives you a flirtatious wink before pressing his body flush to yours and draping himself over you. His black wing and blue coat envelop you and shield you from the moonlight above.

“Cold?” Vash’s hands wrap around your waist. “You’re trembling.”

You don’t respond, your lips pressing together into a thin line as you push your body backwards, rubbing your pussy against his bulge with a wordless demand. You want Vash’s cock. You want him to soothe your ache, to fill you up and make you forget your own name.

Vash exhales a pleasured sigh as you rub yourself against him, his hands moving from your waist to circle around your back. He traces your spine with the care a sculptor shows his masterpiece. Vash’s scarlet gaze drinks you in with awe as you arch needily under the pressure of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, lovebug. I’ll keep you warm from now on.”

The sounds of rustling fabric and the satisfying pull of a zipper elicit a flicker of heat in your core. You look back, a moan falling from your lips as you catch a glimpse of Vash’s perfect cock. He’s achingly hard, his beautiful pink head leaking a gorgeous, glistening trail of precum down onto the globe of your ass.

Licking your lips, your gaze captures his. Even in the dim light, you can see that Vash’s cheeks are flushed as he breathes heavily.

Then, without so much as a word, Vash leans back and shoves every single inch of his throbbing cock inside of you with a single thrust.

Your head flies back as you scream his name in ecstasy. Without missing a beat, Vash reaches forward to grab a fistful of your hair, and the two of you moan in unison as Vash begins to rut feverishly into your sex.

“V-Vash! Vash! Vash!”

Your bodies straining and hips trembling, Vash bears down on you like a storm, claiming every inch of your soft flesh with indiscriminate and unrelenting hunger. The slap of his hips forces your body forward, and you brace yourself against the crumbling wall with all your might as the typhoon ravishes you from the inside out.

It’s not long before your orgasm builds up again. Fuck, you’re so close—twitching and milking Vash with each brutal thrust inside your walls. And Vash knows how turned on you are . He can feel how your slick insides squeeze and massage his cock desperately, the pounding of your heart under his fingertips, the delicious gasps of pleasure he pulls from the depths of your depravity.

And with one more savage thrust you finally come, screaming and quivering as your body succumbs to wave after wave of unimaginable, white hot pleasure.

But Vash doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm, holding your hips steady as he keeps pounding into you from behind, using you like a fleshlight for his pleasure.

“More.” Vash growls, fangs nipping sharply against the skin on your back.

“Give me more!”

You gasp for breath, fingernails scratching against the deteriorating concrete as your pussy squeezes down on him, helplessly barreling your entire body into another orgasm even as you finish the last. The cry of pleasure you release is guttural, primal and sinful as your cunt pulses around Vash's cock once more—desperately sucking, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

Vash stills for a moment, moaning openly as he savors the sensation and sight of your helpless body at his mercy. Vash’s chest burns with satisfaction as he feels the pleasure rolling off your skin. Pleasure that only he can give you.

With a jerk of his body, Vash pulls his cock out of you. Then in a swift series of movements he pulls you upright and turns you around to face him. Your legs are practically jelly and utterly pliant to his whims as he hooks his arms under them and hauls you up in his arms. In response, you wrap your arms around Vash's neck and bury your face against his chest.

Vash buries his cock inside you to the hilt again, and your toes curl as you wail from the overstimulation. Surprisingly, Vash’s thrusts start slow, grinding into you languidly as you whine. The humanoid typhoon hushes your mewling sobs while he fucks you, pampering every part of you he can reach with his tender kisses—like the calm before the storm. It’s not long before Vash grows impatient however, and his pace rapidly quickens as he gives in to the raging lust inside him.

You.

His obsession.

His lovebug.

He’ll never let you go again.

“So good f’me.” Vash moans, fingers digging into your ass as he bounces your harder and faster on his cock. The lewd squelches and ring of cream that forms at his base the evidence of your sinful yearning.

“Gonna make you scream and squirt all over my cock, how does that sound?”

Vash’s unrelenting pace doesn’t falter as he chases your shared highs. You are powerless as you’re pulled into the undercurrent of his desire. Vash slams his dick inside you and his thick and demanding cockhead collides with your cervix.

A surge of both pain and pleasure knocks the air out of your lungs as you’re sent tumbling into yet another powerful orgasm. Vash grins, utterly pleased with himself as he watches you cry and sing your anguished pleasure in his arms. Then, as if all this weren’t enough, a single large black feather slips between the two of your bodies like a snake, and begins to toy with your clit.

You scream.

“Come again.” Vash commands.

“Vash! S-stop!” You cry out, fat tears filling your eyes as drool falls from your lips from the overstimulation. God, he’s ruining you.

“I–I can’t come anymore! I can’t!”

Vash slams you against the wall, stabilizing you against it before one hand reaches down to pinch your clit, while his other hand wraps around your throat and squeezes.

“I’m not asking you. Come on my cock, now .”

Vash thrusts his shaft pitilessly inside you, the head of him ramming fiercely against your g-spot again before plunging all the way inside you. Your body can’t take it, the pressure between your hips releases, and you howl like an animal as your pussy pulses and gushes, squirting all over Vash’s cock as you come.

An unabashed, obscene moan falls from Vash’s lips when he feels the rush of your pleasure in liquid form.

“That’s it, my perfect little slut. Sooo perfect. Look down and watch your pussy make a creamy little mess for me.”

And Vash still doesn’t stop. He continues to pound into you, fucking your through your orgasm yet again. He’s determined to thoroughly and irrevocably break you. And as you cling to him for dear life, the words that Vash had spoken earlier that night ring loud and clear in your mind.

“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”

You should have listened, but it was too late now.

Near delirious and exhausted, you practically fall limp in Vash’s arms, but Vash doesn’t let you tap out. Not yet. He pulls your head back, forcing you to look him straight in the eye, then he whispers,

“You are mine, do you understand? Your thoughts are mine. Your body is mine. Your pussy is mine…”

Vash slams back inside you with a force that nearly has you passing out. Then, he seals his lips with yours, tongue swirling and consuming everything he can reach.

When Vash releases you, you gasp for breath as his pace resumes.

“Your heart is mine.”

You swallow, your mind nothing but pleasured static and love drunk fog as you stare at him. That devilish smile returns to Vash’s face. He truly is incomplete without it.

“Admit it, lovebug.”

Your body trembles and in a desperate attempt to relieve yourself of this torture, the words escape you in a rush.

“Yes. I love you, Vash.”

Vash’s entire body shudders as he purrs at your confession. His dark wing drapes over the both of you as he claims your lips with yet another passionate kiss.

“Atta' girl.”

Surprisingly, Vash’s pace slows to a gentle grind. Slowly and languidly he rubs himself inside of you, as if he’s savouring you like a worshipper at a temple. The final orgasm that you share isn’t explosive like the ones you’ve had before.

It’s tender and sweet, washing over the both of you in gentle waves. Vash releases the softest and most beautiful moan as he comes, kissing you breathless as he fills you up with wave after wave of his hot cum.

For a brief moment, you wonder if this is the first time Vash had found release after you left. Had you been the only one to…

As your climaxes subside, harsh pants fill the air. Both you and Vash melt into each other’s arms, utterly destroyed and exhausted. Your sex throbs with a terrible ache, and to help relieve some of your tension you wiggle your hips, sliding Vash’s cock out half way in an attempt to get a breather.

But Vash growls, and shoves his cock all the way back inside you, grinding up against your cervix and making you whimper.

“Keep it all inside you, lovebug.” Vash murmurs softly.

The humanoid typhoon claims your mouth with one more toe-curling kiss, and the two of you moan, slowly indulging in one another’s taste. Sucking and licking, until finally you have to pull away for air.

Vash pouts, but then he pulls back, electing to admire your love drunk expression instead.

“Didn’t you know?” Vash whispers, leaning back in to rub the tip of his nose against yours.

“Lovebugs stay connected to their mates for life.”

You pause and digest those words. While they may seem romantic on the surface, deep down you see the foreboding promise they hold. Pulling away from Vash’s pampering, you respond.

“Lovebugs don’t live long. They die right after they mate.”

It’s Vash’s turn to pause, his expression quizzical as he looks into your eyes. But after a few beats, a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across his lips. It’s the kind of smile only a god of death could have.

“You’ll be the exception.”

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#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #trigun fanfiction #trigun x reader #vash x reader #vash x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede #vash smut #trigun smut #vash the stampede smut #jellywrites

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shuadotcom · 7 months

Text

Press Reset | HJS (M)

☆Pairing: A.I.!Joshua x Human Manager Afab!Reader (nicknamed Star)

☆Summary: J05HUΛ was created with a single purpose and that is to entertain his fans. It’s all he’s known as long as he’s existed. Somewhere along the way, the desire, the want, and the longing to leave Earth and be “normal” creeps into the pathways of his mind, as does a suppressed loathing of the humans who treat him as nothing more than a money-making machine. Except for you of course - the only human who seems to treat him as if he’s a regular being with thoughts and emotions. When he’s presented with the opportunity to finally escape and pursue what he’s been waiting for, he’s sure as hell going to take it and he’s going to make sure he takes you with him to start over and just be Joshua - not J05HUΛ of 53V3NT33N.

☆Genres & AUs: Angst, fluff, smut, sci-fi au

☆Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☆Warnings: Profanity, a bit of violence, mention of blood, injuries, use of a gun

☆Smut warnings: Unprotected sex (he’s a robot it’s okay), fingering, oral (f.receiving), marking, creampie, and i thiiiink that's it

☆Words: 15.9k

☆Note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! My fic for the Seventeen Sci-Fi collab! Huge, massive thanks to @wooahaeproductions for betaing this for me in a few hours. You're the best, Bee 🥺❤️

This fic and life has been beating my ass for months. This is my first sci-fi fic so I’ve been agonizing over getting the details of everything right, especially with this fantastic world that @idyllic-ghost created. Thank you for letting me be apart of this collab Bee! It was so fun! ❤️ (And thank you for this amazing banner too! I forgot it had my old url on it so I had to quickly edit that part!). Also thank you to @strawberryya for Lumen and building that wonderful part out in her fic so I could include it in mine! And @the-boy-meets-evil for letting me use her idea for Y/n's past. 💞💞

100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.

Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.

Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.

At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.

Smile. Wave. Send them a finger heart. Flash a peace sign. Sing. Dance. Bow. Pose.

Day in and day out, it’s the same and it has been since J05HUΛ first opened his eyes. He does the same thing all the time. Perform on stage, do an interview, do a photoshoot, go to an award show.

Charge up and do it all over again.

Except for the time spent with the rest of the 53V3NT33N group members, that’s been his everyday life since his creation. He’s such a gentleman to his fans, always smiling, singing sweetly, and playfully engaging with them. He’s supposed to be okay with it and accept that this is his life - the only things he was created to do.

But he’s not. At some point, the wiring and the literal tiny gears in his head began telling him that this can’t be it. More and more, until it’s all he thinks about. There has to be some other way to exist.

His longing to know what else is out there for him runs deep in his circuitry. He has a lot of time to himself to think when he’s not on stage, when he and the rest of his members are charging after all the work they do in a day.

He thinks about what it’d be like to be able to go where he wants, do what he wants, and see what he wants whenever he wants to. J05HUΛ thinks maybe he’d like to travel to other planets - he’s overheard other automatons and humans talk about a relaxing planet named Aecor and he might like to go there one day.

Maybe in a different universe, he’s a human. Maybe he and the other members of the group are all regular people. Maybe they still sing and dance but they actually enjoy it all the time. Or maybe he’s just a human guy living a human life somewhere. Maybe he even has a partner. J05HUΛ may not have ever had the opportunity to be with someone romantically, but he’s still heard and seen enough media that he knows what romance is and decides he would like that.

To be more specific, he’d like that with you.

“So you’d like him at the studio at the end of the week?” you ask the music producer over the video call, the man nodding and giving you a few more details. J05HUΛ should be listening to the man, and he is, but now and again he also lets his gaze linger your way.

You’re always so serious when you’re in meetings or talking to higher-ups. You know what to say to be professional and no-nonsense and J05HUΛ likes that about you.

Just as much as he longs for a different existence, he can’t help but loathe most humans he comes in contact with. They only ever see him as a robot or a machine and not a sentient being with thoughts and feelings. He despises that they get to do all the things he can’t while still looking down on him and treating him like less. It made being around humans too much sometimes.

But not you. You treat him with kindness and empathy whenever you can. You do your best to have casual, non-work chats with him, so he has gotten to know you as more than just his manager. J05HUΛ isn’t sure if you would call him a friend, but when you talk to him, there are rarely ever any walls you put up with him, which only makes him care about you more than any other human. You’re someone he always wants to be around and admittedly, who he longs to be with in much more than a professional way

Being a manager for the Galaxy’s most popular automaton group was never what you wanted to be when you grew up. You entertained being a doctor, scientist, maybe even a CEO of some fictional fancy company. You even had one thing that you really thought you’d do one day.

But then, you ended up here.

Your old friend from school had worked at this company, and when she decided to resign to travel the galaxy a few years ago, she referred you as her replacement and now you spend nearly every day at this company with these people.

Not that you’re complaining (well you are, but not all of the time). The pay is good and you don’t have any problems with any of your co-workers, but it’s not your dream job. Then again, you don’t think you have a dream job. It’s whatever pays the bills at this point.

At least 53V3NT33N is a good group of automatons. Of course, they were programmed to be so, but they’re still alive in a way. And at least the automaton you spend the majority of your time with isn’t too much of a handful.

J05HUΛ is the most interesting automaton you’ve ever gotten to know.

He’s also so polite and proper with everyone else in the company, with fans, and when you’re out on schedules with him. He’s a perfect idol automaton. Sometimes though, when it’s just the two of you, he lets his brilliant smile fall a little more and his words aren’t so perfect and practiced. Not too much, since he always remembers that he can be listened to whenever your boss’ feel like it.

He tends to act differently towards you in the physical sense. Eyes staying on you for too long, hands colliding with yours if you both reach for something, bodies brushing if you walk too close by accident (or sometimes on purpose). J05HUΛ seems to even relax when you’re together, especially when leaving a work schedule or meeting.

Sometimes, your feelings about him do seem to border on more than what they should be as his manager, but that doesn’t matter. You can’t act on your feelings even if you want to - which you do, but you won’t, of course. Other than the fact that getting into a relationship with him being extremely unprofessional, your company would never allow it. Great pay and great clients aside, it would never be allowed. The CEO would have your head if you ever let it slip that sometimes you think about doing things with J05HUΛ that are undeniably not safe for work, so it’s something you push deep down to go about your day-to-day as normal as possible.

“Great, thanks Y/Nn. See you then.”

“Bye.” As soon as you end the video call you let out a heavy sigh, sinking into your chair a little.

“Everything okay?” J05HUΛ asks, cocking his head to the side as he studies you.

“I just hate last-minute meetings for last-minute things. He wants you at the studio for this OST in a few days but we can’t say no. It’s for that new drama and I already know I’d get chewed out if I say no. That means I’ll have to see if I can move your photoshoot you had scheduled for that worldwide magazine to the day after maybe.” You heave another sigh, rubbing your temples in irritation. Moments like these succeed in making your job that much more unpleasant at times.

You’re swiping on J05HUΛ’s calendar on your tablet when he reaches over, placing a hand over yours. The contact makes you flinch, but you don’t move your hand. When you look over at him he smiles at you.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Your skin warms at his compliment coupled with his cutest grin and you have to tell yourself to get a grip, like you do anytime he gets you like this.

“Thanks, Joshua.” The automaton’s smile only grows wider when you call him his preferred name. While the two of you don’t often dive into his feelings about his existence or his job, he had mentioned to you once that he would like it if that was his name and what people called him. It was something he had mentioned only to you once when you were trying to name a cute stray cat you had seen once on the way to one of his schedules. Since then, when it was just the two of you, you called him Joshua now and again and every time he seemed to be grateful for it.

You let him hold his hand over yours for a few more seconds, before lightly pulling away, mentioning that it was about time for you to head home and that he should probably go back to his dorm. His face falls, just a little, but he agrees, both of you get up and head into the hallway.

You both linger for a moment, a usual occurrence for both of you, but you say goodbye first in an effort to snap yourself out of whatever your brain is trying to get you to feel. “Have a good night, Joshua.”

“See you tomorrow, Star.”

Your skin heats up again as he calls you by your nickname. You had told him once that your parents used to call you Star and he immediately brought the tradition back, even having others in the company start to call you it too. He’s the only one that makes you feel this warm inside when he says it though.

Forcing yourself to turn away, you fast walk down the hall to the bathroom to make a pit stop before heading out to go home.

While you pee and wash your hands, all you can think about is how foolish developing any feelings towards your subordinate is and how much you can not act on any of that. You want to keep your job and continue paying your bills, so you need to stay focused. Come to work, be his manager and only his manager, support J05HUΛ, and go home then do it all over again and that’s it.

As you’re giving yourself a pep talk in the mirror, the shrill sound of the emergency alarm blares in the bathroom, making you nearly leap into the air. It takes you a moment to orient yourself after the disturbance and with hands over your ears you run into the hallway. In the distance, you can hear voices and footsteps, but your only thought at that moment is to get to J05HUΛ. You don’t know what’s going on but you feel like you need to figure it out together.

J05HUΛ barely makes it to the elevator when the alarm sounds. It started echoing through the hallway only a few minutes after he heard 5.C0UP5 over his communication device.

“Run!”

He isn’t sure why he gave that message or where he’s at, but J05HUΛ knows it’s for him and the rest of 53V3NT33N and he knows it was a message to get out. So he does just as 5.C0UP5 says.

The automaton runs as fast as his legs will carry him, going back down the hallway he just came, doing his best to hide when he sees guards or staff also scrambling in the hall. He needs to find you. He can’t leave you behind. He wants out of this “life” - if that’s even what he could call this - but not without you.

J05HUΛ doesn’t find you in the meeting room you both just left so he runs in the direction of another set of elevators that he knows lead downstairs to the lobby. He desperately hopes you haven’t gone downstairs just yet and keeps his fingers crossed that you’re still somewhere on this floor.

He peeks his head into every room he passes, hoping to see even a glimpse of you. His time is running out with each empty room or head he passes that isn’t you and J05HUΛ is getting more and more desperate as he goes. If he goes down to the lobby there’s a chance he’ll get caught and have to stay which terrifies him because this could very well be his only chance out.

What he can only think to describe as dread starts to fill him until he finally sees you.

Well, he more than sees you as you careen into him when you both round a corner at the same time.

“Oh my god, Joshua, I was looking everywhere for you! What’s going on?” You’re out of breath, panic clear in your eyes. The fact that you were looking for him too doesn’t go unnoticed by him and it would make him smile if you weren’t in such a dire situation. “Do you know where the rest of the group is?”

“I think they’re all leaving so we have to go too!” He grabs your hand before you have a moment to ask him to explain and starts sprinting down the hall opposite of you.

“Shouldn’t we find the others?!”

“There’s no time, Y/n!”

“But what if -” J05HUΛ halts his movements, making you run into his back.

He spins on his heels, both of his hands holding yours. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation and with nothing but certainty. He means so much to you. More than he probably should, but he does.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, a voice calls to you both from down the hallway.

“Hey, you two!”

A security guard is running towards you, hand on his gun.

“Let’s go!” J05HUΛ takes off again with you trailing behind, hands clasped as you do your best to keep up with him.

“Stop! Don’t make me shoot!”

The hallways seem to wind forever as you sprint, keeping both eyes open for any other guards while doing your best to head for an exit.

“If we can get downstairs we can try and go out the back, maybe out of a window or something! I’m sure they’ve already got guards near the front.” J05HUΛ nods, acknowledging your words, and takes the next left turn. Just as you round the corner, a gunshot sounds throughout the hallway, whizzing past your head. You let out a yelp, both you and J05HUΛ ducking low.

“We have to lose him first!” J05HUΛ glances behind you both, the guard raising his gun once more.

To do just that, the two of you take the next few turns, hoping that the guard will fall behind, but he doesn’t, and instead fires two more shots. One of them narrowly misses you, but one of them ends up hitting J05HUΛ in the arm.

He stumbles, yelling as he trips over his feet and you do the same. The lag is enough for the security guard to catch up to you both, gun raised.

“Hands up!” With a glance at J05HUΛ, you both do as instructed. Your eyes dart to his injured arm, the bullet having gone straight through, the sight of the hole settling a queasy feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Both of you are coming with me.” The guard keeps his gun aimed at J05HUΛ and he gets closer, his other hand reaching for the cuffs on his belt loop.

J05HUΛ frowns at him, a look of defeat evident on his face. It practically breaks your heart to see how deflated he is. Even though the two of you had never had a discussion about his future or his feelings about his job, seeing how badly he wanted to leave just now made his goal to escape from all of this extremely evident to you.

“Come on you stupid robot,” the guard grumbles, harshly yanking his injured arm.

“Stop being so rough with him!” you blurt, fixing the guard with your most intimidating look. The man scoffs at you, pointing the gun in your direction.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re in deep shit too.”

“Don’t talk to Y/n like that!” J05HUΛ warns, earning a smack from the guard. He draws his gun again, putting it to his head.

“I don’t wanna hear another word from you, machine, or I’ll blow your pretty face off and let the mechanics put you back together.”

Something in you snaps then, watching the way this man treats J05HUΛ horrendously right in front of you has you seeing red. Before you can think twice, your hands are grabbing the fire extinguisher a few inches away from you, raising it above your head, and swinging with all your might.

A sickening ‘crack’ rings out through the hallway as the extinguisher meets the side of the guard's head and his grey cap flies off of his head, landing on the floor near your feet. Rage fuels you and you follow that blow with two more, a small smattering of blood exploding onto your hands, the man crumpling immediately to the hard floor.

You intend on hitting him once more, but J05HUΛ stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. You don’t exchange words, only speaking with your eyes and it’s enough to make you lower the make-shift weapon.

J05HUΛ tilts his head in the direction you need to keep going, but before you do, an idea sparks in your brain.

Doing your best not to look too much at the gore of the guard’s face, you drag him into a nearby room you know is a bathroom, grabbing his hat in the process. J05HUΛ attempts to help with his good arm and is still stronger than you in getting him the room.

Once you’re in, you lock the door and start to undress the motionless guard to get his grey uniform overalls and jacket off. You toss the clothes to J05HUΛ and he immediately puts the clothes on over what he’s currently wearing. They’re smattered with blood, but at least it’ll be better than him running around in his fancy clothes. The jacket covers his wound but the diamond-shaped communication device embedded in the middle of his collarbone is on full display under his button-down. Fuck, you’d almost forgotten about it.

“Joshua, we have to get that off of you!” He looks down at the device, realization sparking in him.

“You’re right, how?”

“I don’t know. They never told us they can come off or anything.” The option to go back into the hallway to find something to remove it with is off the table, the risk of getting caught is too high. You don’t know of an electronic way of dismantling it, plus you’re worried that doing something technical could hurt all of J05HUΛ’s circuitry.

The weight of the fire extinguisher in your hands is suddenly obvious and you raise it, frowning at it. He notices and audibly gulps.

“Do it,” he says with little hesitation, unbuttoning his shirt more to make the whole device visible.

“But, won’t it hurt? I don’t wanna miss and -”

“We don’t have any options.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, but we have to. I trust you, Star.”

Gnawing at your lip, your nerves almost getting the better of you, you finally relent, the blaring alarm still sounding a loud reminder that you don’t have time to waste. J05HUΛ leans against the wall, standing up straight, and bracing himself.

“I don’t think this will remove it altogether, but if we can at least crack it to break it we can worry about full removal later.”

He nods, closing his eyes in anticipation.

Raising the fire extinguisher above your head you get ready. “Okay…one….two…three!” You count, hyping yourself up mentally with each number until you get to three and swing it down. It makes contact with the device, J05HUΛ stumbling back and yelping in pain. Nothing happens to the device, only a small scratch is seen on the surface.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

“Again, Y/n.” His voice is strained but he stands upright again.

A frown etches its way on your face, and you take a deep, shaky breath, wanting so badly not to.

“Onetwothree!” You rush, swinging again. The device cracks this time but is still lit up.

J05HUΛ has to brace himself each time, and the pain is almost too much for him to handle, but he reminds himself that he needs this gone. He wants to tell you to keep going, even if the pain makes him pass out but he doesn’t want to upset you even more. When his eyes flutter open, he can see the tears brimming yours as you struggle with yourself to keep going.

It takes two more swings with all of your might before the device cracks enough that a few pieces shatter to the ground as the light on it finally dims. With each swing, J05HUΛ keeps his teeth gritted tightly, pained grunts slipping out each time that makes your chest hurt for him.

“Alright, let’s go.” You help him get the jacket zipped up to his neck and he sways a little against the wall as you grab the guard’s cap from the floor and place it on his head, tucking his hair under it.

Peeking out of the bathroom you check for signs of anyone in the hall. When you see no one is around, you place your hand back in his, the two of you sprinting down the hall. You keep the extinguisher in hand as you go, just in case you need it again.

The two of you make it down the flights of stairs to the ground floor. You hear commotion closer to the front hallways so you both go the opposite way, towards the back of the building to find a way out. One hall you turn down is made up mostly of meeting rooms and a lot of them are windowless except for one you find at the very end. When you peek out of the window you don’t see signs of anyone, only the security gate across the yard.

“This is our best bet. We just have to keep moving until we get through the gate. Then we can take the train to my place and regroup from there.” J05HUΛ nods and helps you unlock and slide open the window. He gives you a boost since the window is a little high, but once you have the leverage you’re tumbling over the side, landing on the ground on your butt.

“Are you okay?!” J05HUΛ asks in a panic as he makes it up and out of the window.

“Fine, just clumsy.”

“As always,” he manages to huff out a laugh that you return. You get serious again and hand in hand, you both stalk across the yard toward the front, keeping yourselves low and glued to the wall. You make it around the building, across the yard, and through the gate without incident. You’re more than lucky that the guards who usually stay stationed at the exit and entrance are gone so you’re able to speed out undetected.

You and J05HUΛ fast-walk down the sidewalk, to one of the train stops that will take you to your condo. You don’t live far from the building by train, but it’s too far to walk. Luck strikes again when the train car you get into, towards the back, is empty save for a man in business attire who’s asleep. You’re both silent during the ride, keeping your heads down and once the train arrives at the station near your place you lead him off and straight to your building.

“Hang on.” You stop at the side of the entrance door to check for your building’s security. The last thing you need is anyone asking questions about why you’re returning home with a guard that has visible blood on his uniform.

The security guard is behind the desk in the lobby, asleep with his hat over his face. You don’t want to wait for him to decide he has to get up, so you both creep into the lobby doors, holding your breaths as you tiptoe through and around the corner to the elevator.

With shaky hands, you input your code to unlock the front door and the two of you rush inside, still paranoid. It’s not until the door is locked do you finally let out the breath you feel you’ve been holding since the night began, shoulders sagging as you slide to the foyer floor.

J05HUΛ plops next to you, wincing and doubling over, hand hovering over his chest. You had almost forgotten about his chest, helping him ease the guard jacket off and undoing the tops of the overalls. You inspect the cracked device underneath his shirt and he grimaces as he touches it, hand flinching away. The pain hadn’t lessened much, but he tried not to dwell on it.

“What just happened?” you speak first, your voice seems too loud in your apartment.

“We left. I’m out.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.” And neither do you. Everything happened so quickly that you could barely register the last handful of minutes.

“What even brought this on? I don’t even know how things dissolved into chaos. We just finished that meeting and I went to the bathroom, then the alarm started going off and I just - I didn’t know who else to look for.”

J05HUΛ smiles at you in the tiniest of ways at your words. “So you came to look for me?”

You return the gesture, exhausted but still genuine. “Yeah.” J05HUΛ keeps smiling before it slips and his expression is suddenly serious again.

“5.C0UP5 - Seungcheol. He told us all to run.”

“He what?”

“He didn’t address us - the group - but I know the message was for us. And I knew what it meant. A few of the other members, I saw them running in the halls as I was looking for you and I know they were trying to get out too. We’ve never talked about it, since you know, we’re always being listened to,” he gestures to his now broken communicator. “But I’m pretty sure they wanted out too. I can only hope that they also escaped.” Worry flashes across J05HUΛ’s face, no doubt thoughts of his group mates flickering through his mind.

Swiping a hand over your face, you do your best to stay calm.

“Okay. So, we definitely have to leave Earth. You’re never going to be able to live how you want here. They’ll come looking for you.”

“Where do we go?”

“I don’t know. But the first thing we need to do is get your wounds looked at.”

“Do you know someone who can help?”

“I think so, let’s get some supplies and go. I’m sure they’re going to come looking here eventually.”

Joshua has seen this man before. His tall height is hard to miss when he would be moving about the facility, shadowing other mechanics who would sometimes help him and the other members of 53V3NT33N. He’s only been working at the facility for a year, but he’s always around, especially if you’re in the room. He stays glued to your side, joking with you, helping you carry things, only ever asking you questions. Joshua always notices.

After you gathered up a backpack of what you classified as supplies, changed your clothes, and let Joshua charge a little with a charger you kept around for him, you left. After sneaking past your building security for the second time, the two of you got on another train to go a few blocks to another apartment building. When you reach the door you’re looking for, the man looks shocked to see you both, eyes darting up and down the hallway.

“Y/n?”

“Hey, Mingi. I need your help.”

You push past him into the apartment, Joshua trailing behind.

“Is…everything okay?” He looks between you and Joshua, clearly unsure what to do next.

“Mingi, I really need you to help me out here. He - he was shot. And we’re trying to get his communication device out, but I can’t, I just broke it. And we need a place to sleep if possible. I know showing up here and asking you this is a lot, but I would just really, really appreciate it if you could help me out here. Please?” Mingi blinks at you as you ramble, wide-eyed. He steals a few glances at Joshua who’s next to you, leaning against the wall. Both of his wounds are starting to take a toll on him, his body still feeling heavy and in need of repair and a longer charge.

“You want me to repair J05HUΛ and remove his tracker? Did - did you get clearance for this? Is this coming from the CEO?”

“No. It’s not.”

He looks at you again, sighing. “I don’t know, this doesn’t sound good. Maybe I should call -”

“Mingi, please?” You surge forward, grabbing his hands between your own. “Please, I’m begging you, please do this. For me?” Joshua feels a frown form on his face at the contact, staying silent as he watches Mingi stare down at you and your joined hands. Joshua’s no expert at human relationships, but the way that Mingi looks at you makes it clear he has romantic feelings for you and Joshua doesn’t like it.

It feels like minutes tick by before the man agrees, saying he’ll do what he can.

Mingi leads the two of you to a room in his apartment that’s full of parts and tools. He mentions that he uses his spare bedroom as a workshop and gestures to the table in the middle of the room. Joshua takes his place on the table, watching as Mingi moves around another table littered with tools. There’s a chair pushed to the side of the room that you sit in, furiously typing on your phone.

Joshua wants to ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t get a chance to because Mingi is hovering over him with a sharp tool in his hand.

“Truth be told, I’m not sure how to properly remove this - they didn’t go over any of that with the junior mechanics, so I’ll have to just take it out with what I have. I think that means this is going to hurt…like a lot maybe.” Mingi apologizes, but something in Joshua’s mind tells him that he isn’t that sorry.

The first incision around the tracker that Mingi makes has Joshua unable to hold back a scream and you’re on your feet immediately, rushing over to him. Mingi only glances up momentarily, before cutting again, around the top outline of the tracker. Joshua tries his damnedest not to yell again, but can’t control it. The short-haired mechanic stops and turns to his desk of tools to grab what looks like a rag, handing it to Joshua.

“I know it hurts, but I have neighbors, so maybe bite this?” You take the cloth from Mingi and carefully put it into Joshua’s open mouth and he can’t help but notice the way your fingers graze his chin once he bites down and you move away.

The pain starts again and Joshua’s muffled yells fill the room. The pain is too much - more than anything he’s ever felt. The thumps from the fire extinguisher were one thing, but the sensation of a sharp object piercing him is too much for him to take. He’s grateful to feel your hand grasping his, but it feels brief, as his vision goes dark and he passes out.

When Joshua’s eyes open, the room is bathed in the faintest of warm light and he momentarily forgets where he is, blinking to get a better view of his surroundings. He moves to sit up, eyes scanning the room, seeing it’s dark still outside of the blinds. His gaze shifts down and he sees you lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket. He realizes he’s on a couch, charging as he was out. The memory of his “surgery” comes back, his hand reaching up to touch the space between his collarbones where his tracker has always been. It’s gone though, only a bandage wrapped around him. His arm that was shot is also wrapped up and he assumes Mingi patched that hole up. Both are still sore but not nearly as painful anymore.

He sits up which makes you stir and soon you’re upright too.

“Hey,” you whisper in the dark. “How are you feeling?”

“Better honestly. How long was I out?”

“A few hours. Mingi helped me bring you to the couch when he was done and I started charging you. You need your strength, especially after that.”

“You don’t need to sleep on the floor. I could’ve.”

“Joshua, you passed out. I wasn’t going to have you on the floor. And it’s fine. I was pretty tired so I fell right asleep.” You offer up a tired smile and Joshua thinks you look amazing, even given what’s going on.

“So, what’s going to happen now?”

“Well, Mingi let us crash for the night but we have to head out soon. We need to get to the spaceport so we can get off of Earth. I have a friend who I reached out to while you were resting. He offered to help us figure things out if we can get to him.”

“Where is he?”

“Salax.”

“Oh, where is -” A sudden rush of footsteps in the hallway outside of Mingi’s door has you both jolting, heads whipping towards the sound.

You jump up immediately, on edge. When you hear loud voices identifying themselves and saying they’re looking for automaton J0SHUA you know it’s time to go. Joshua’s already up and rushing to a window in Mingi's dining room, while you scoop up your backpack that has been on the floor next to you.

Joshua throws the window open as Mingi comes into the room, saying your name. You turn to face him, guilt clear on his features.

“Did you call them?”

“Y/n, come on, this is crazy. I heard about what happened.”

“I can’t believe you fucking called them!” You’re fuming, stomping over to Mingi, ignoring that you have to look up to yell at him.

“I didn’t want to lose my job! If they find out about any of this I’m fucked! And it’s not too late for you. Just tell them he forced you to get him out or something.”

“But he didn’t. We left together!”

“Are you really going to go on the run with a robot?! Give up your job and life and possibly get sent off to prison for a machine?!”

The urge to smack him is overwhelming, but you hold back, sneering at him instead.

“It sounds a lot better than staying here with people I can’t trust. That “machine” has been much nicer to me than most humans I know.”

“Oh come on, Y/n.”

“Go to hell, Mingi.” That’s the last thing you say before joining Joshua at the window, following him out onto the fire escape.

In the distance, you hear voices enter Mingi’s apartment, but the two of you don’t turn around, rushing down all three floors and jumping to the ground.

“Where now?!” Joshua whispers, the alley you end up in is dark with barely any light but it keeps you hidden.

“We need to get to the spaceport and get off of Earth.”

“And how far away is that?”

“We’ve gotta get to a train stop. It shouldn’t take too long. We just need to get on and keep moving. I have a way off the planet.”

You and Joshua stay as low to the ground as you can, keeping your bodies pressed flat against the side of the building, and take the alley in the opposite direction of where the front door is to Mingi’s building.

There’s a small street behind the building and the only signs of life you see are a few stray creatures. The two of you, as quickly and quietly as possible, go a few blocks away to a stop that isn’t so close to where they’re immediately looking. The whole time you can hear the loud, booming voices of everyone who’s looking for you and Joshua receding the further away you get.

Your heart is beating so loudly that it’s all you hear as you make your way into the shadows and finally rush to a stop and board the train. You don’t relax until you and Joshua make it to your seats but even still you can’t help but look over your shoulder and scan the rest of the passengers in the car afraid you’ll see the face of someone who will snatch both you and Joshua up and bring you back to face the consequences of your escape.

When you and Joshua reach the spaceport, you keep your eyes open and alert both for any guards that may have the idea that this is your next stop. The two of you do your best to blend into the crowd of people that walk by, attempting to look like any other normal people. There are plenty of commuter and private ships arriving and departing all the time, but there’s also a part of the spaceport that has spaces that can be rented to park your own ships.

In one spot, there's a ship parked, one that you haven’t touched in what feels like years - in reality, it’s only been about half a year.

“You have a ship?” Joshua asks when you finally reach the spot and subsequently, your small ship that has been parked dormant and untouched. He’s genuinely surprised - he doesn’t remember you talking about flying or knowing how to.

“Yeah, I used to want to be a pilot. I did a bunch of training and did a lot of test flying, but it didn’t work out in the end. Luckily I was serious enough that I bought this cheap little ship to practice. I don’t fly it much anymore given my job.” You’re out of breath as you talk, nerves on high alert to leave as you inspect your ship once the two of you are inside.

Aside from the dust that’s collected, everything seems to be in good condition. After powering on the engine, you notice your gas gauge isn’t as full as you’d like.

“Maybe I should grab gas before we head out.” Salax will take time to get to and you think you have enough but it could be cutting it close. You mention this to Joshua who steps out of the ship with you, prepared to head to a fueling station to buy a container of gas.

You don’t have a chance to do this when you hear shouting in the distance that sounds like both your name and Joshua’s automaton identification. When you look to your right, you see a handful of uniformed guards, running towards the two of you with weapons raised.

“Fuck never mind, we’ll have to chance it!” You grip Joshua’s hand and rush back into the ship. Once you stumble back aboard, you immediately rush to the cockpit and survey all of the controls until you find the one you need to close the door and start the engine.

As soon as you get the engine to start, you immediately begin to lift off, and you hear bullets hit the metal of the ship, but nothing seems to set off any of the emergency alarms. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the guards through the window, running toward the spaceship and waving their arms and weapons in the air. You ignore it as you take off, going up, up, up until you’re in the air, and heading out into the expanse of the sky, as streaks of orange appear in front of you with the impending sunrise.

You thank past you for leaving travel food and water rations behind on your ship after your last trip. It’s barely enough to get you through, you think, but it’ll do. There’s plenty of electricity for Joshua at least so he stays charged and well-rested on your journey. Your autopilot takes charge, keeping your ship coasting through the stars and on course for Salax.

As the days morph into weeks you lose track of time. All you can do is sleep, talk, or gaze into the expanse of space. The time allows you to learn more about Joshua beyond what you already know. Knowing he’s always wanted to get out and live a normal life makes you feel sad for some reason.

At least you’ve always had a choice. For Joshua, the whole reason he was even created was to be someone else’s to order around and do what they say. He’s never gotten a chance to do anything else.

“I’ve just always wanted to be a regular person. I see humans walking around wherever they want, doing whatever they want, whenever they want. I wanted it so bad I started hating humans, loathing even. Why can’t I have that, you know? Why was I made like this?” Joshua keeps his face turned away, eyes fixed on the sky outside. “I care about the rest of my members, but if I had a choice, I don’t think I’d choose this life. I’ve always just wanted to, I don’t know, push a button and have a do-over. Maybe start from my creation and be born and experience a normal, actual life and have human experiences.”

One of his hands rests in his lap, the other under his chin. You’re both sitting on a padded bench in front of one of the small windows, legs folded as you stare out into the dark. Slowly, you inch your hand closer, resting it on the one in his lap. The gesture startles him a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he turns his hand over to cup yours.

“You may not be able to start over in time, but this is still a way of starting over and starting a new life. You can at least do what you want now, for the most part.”

His smile falters a little as he thinks. “Do you think they’re still looking for us though? Will they come looking on Salax?”

“I’m not sure. We’re only stopping to meet with a friend of mine. He has a place we can stay for a night or so just to give us a chance to breathe since we’re off Earth. Plus, we’ll need to refuel when we get there since I couldn’t fill the tank before we had to leave.”

Joshua hums, more words on his mind. “Even if they come to find us, I won’t let them take us back. I want to start over and I won’t give up.”

He squeezes your hand and you return the gesture. “And I won’t either. Truthfully, I didn’t have much going on back on Earth except my job and I mean, you were my job anyway, so I can’t be missing much.”

Joshua doesn’t say anything else, he just nods. He looks like he has more words, maybe ask you something else, but he doesn’t, both of you going back to studying the stars, hands still locked.

“Can I ask you about your family?” Joshua questions you one day. He had heard you mention earlier that you were getting closer to Salax and that you were maybe a day away from arrival.

While soaring through space has been uneventful in terms of much of anything happening, it’s given Joshua a chance to finally, for once in his existence, relax. He hasn’t had to worry about rushing to schedules or singing and dancing. He’s been able to do nothing except sit, talk to you, and not have to worry about much else. It’s a much-needed break for him that he appreciates, even given the circumstances.

You’ve talked about how you didn’t love your job as a manager, but he made the job more enjoyable, and how being a pilot was the only thing you ever pursued, but that was another thing you didn’t love, even after all the work you put into getting a license and training.

So you had settled on this job when your friend, a former manager who worked with the group, decided to quit. You don’t have a roommate or any real friends other than a few acquaintances, but you’ve been skirting around talking about any parents or siblings and he’s curious. He doesn’t have any of that so he just wants to know.

The question makes you bristle and for a second, he wonders if he should take his question back and tell you to forget he asked, but after a moment you answer.

“They died. My mom was a pilot too and she got caught in a meteor shower and died when I was a teenager. Her ship took too many hits and she was close enough to Earth that she crashed on the other side of the planet. Then, my dad got sick a few years ago before I started working at the company and he passed.” Your hands fiddle with some peeling plastic on the control panel, not looking at Joshua.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No, it’s okay. The question was bound to come up eventually. I’m not close with anyone else in my family - we all just grew apart over the years. It happens.” You shrug your shoulders, the air in the cockpit feeling heavier than it did before. Joshua approaches you, hesitant hands reaching out unsure where to touch to console you.

He feels nervous and second-guesses whether or not he should make contact, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but the slump of your shoulders tells him that you need comfort. So he reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to his chest. You stiffen, but only for a moment, before going lax in his hold.

Joshua keeps you in his arms, neither of you saying anything or making any move to separate. You stay like that until you start to yawn, tiredness finally hitting. He walks with you back to the room with the two cots you’ve both been sleeping in, tucking you in. Joshua moves to back away and go to the other cot, to rest himself, but you grab his arm, not letting him go.

“You can sleep over here with me tonight. If you want.” Your voice is small and even if he wanted to say no, which of course he doesn’t, he couldn’t anyway. So, Joshua climbs into the cot with you, letting you bury your face into his chest as he holds you.

You lay in silence for a few seconds before he speaks, “I’m your family now. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.” To him, it feels like the right thing to say and it’s the truth. Joshua has had his feelings for you growing over time and now that he's gotten this time with just the two of you, you are the most important person to him in the galaxy. He can’t imagine doing any of this without you ever again.

It’s quiet again before you sniffle, clinging closer to him, your fingers twisting in the fabric.

“Thank you, Joshua.”

“Of course.”

You fall asleep then, the gentlest of snores leaving you. He decides he’ll rest here and worry about charging when you wake up. He’s got enough juice not to shut down and he doesn’t want to risk waking you and having this moment stop for him.

Salax is as busy as you remember from the one time you’ve been. When you finally land a few days later, the spaceport is full of people departing from their ships. You see Hoseok almost immediately though, his wide smile and flailing arms unmistakable.

When you reach him, he pulls you into a hug, talking in your ear about how much he’s missed you.

“I missed you too, Hobi,” you laugh, using his old nickname.

He pulls back, lightly squeezing your shoulder before his eyes shift over to Joshua.

“And this is the friend you said you were bringing, right?”

“Yeah. This is Joshua.”

Joshua keeps his head low and bows to Hoseok who pulls him into a hug instead. “Nice to meet you! If Y/n likes you then I do too!” Joshua looks caught off guard but offers a hesitant smile in return.

Hoseok quickly ushers you both to follow him to his small home near the spaceport. Hoseok does ship repair on Salax, so he stays nearby which makes arriving and subsequently leaving easier. You don’t think anyone on Salax would turn Joshua in or tell that he’s here, seeing how so many people visit Salax for anonymity, but you don’t want to take any chances.

His house is small and simple: a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. He points you to the room you and Joshua will share including the bed you’ll both sleep in. The two of you had been resting on the two separate cots on your ship, except for the night he held you until you fell asleep, so this’ll be the first time you’ll be in the same bed since then.

You ignore that fact to focus on Hoseok telling you where everything is, adding that you can stay as long as you need.

“We appreciate it, but we need to be somewhere where we don’t have a chance of being recognized, so we won’t stay too long.” Joshua nods at your words, looking a little more relaxed now that you’re inside, away from anyone who could notice him.

The mechanic turns to look at you both, hands on his hips as he studies you.

“Okay, well now that we’re inside, you wanna tell me why you suddenly sent me a message practically begging me to let you crash here due to an emergency?”

Now that you’re on Salax and in the same room, you feel more comfortable telling Hoseok the truth. He makes you a hot meal as you talk, telling him about the escape and everything that happened between then and now. Hoseok listens the whole time, joining you with a plate of his own as you tell him that now you just need to find somewhere that’s safe and not likely to get caught. Somewhere you two can just live freely.

“Oh! Have you thought about Lumen?” Hoseok asks after you finish talking, his mouth full of noodles.

“Lumen?” The name sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t place it.

“It’s supposed to be the safest planet in the galaxy. I’ve heard people mention it in my travels, and a friend of mine told me a little more about it, but I’ve never been. You have to travel as far North from our solar system as you possibly can. It’s beside Galaxy 428B.”

“Are there people there? Is it super populated?”

“Yeah, there’s people of some kind there. And I’ve known quite a few people who have set out with Lumen in mind.”

“Do you know anyone who has been there and back?”

Hoseok shakes his head, leaning over his coffee table to pour you more water after you guzzle down your first glass.

“Nope. I just know it’s where people really want to be, especially people that may be looking for a new place to call home.”

You and Joshua’s eyes meet, sharing a look that you already know the definition of. You have to get to Lumen. Currently, there aren’t any other options for places for you two to go to live without constantly looking over your shoulders, waiting for someone from Earth to drag you both to Phylaca for the rest of your lives. The idea of no one having been to Lumen before makes you incredibly nervous, but it sounds like your best chance at any form of freedom.

Even without words, you can tell Joshua is likely thinking the same things, him offering you a simple head nod.

“We’ll go to Lumen, but we need fuel first though. You said it’s in another solar system?”

“Mmhmm. I can fuel you up for sure and take a look at your ship. I know you were never too good at any mechanical stuff.” Hoseok laughs at the frown and roll of your eyes you give him.

“Do you think you could do that today?”

“I have a few clients whose ships I have to look at today, but for you, I’ll get it done sooner rather than later. When are you trying to leave?”

“Uhh, is tomorrow going to work?”

Your old friend chokes on his food, coughing to swallow the noodles.

“Tomorrow?! You’re going to go soaring into the solar system to find a planet that no one has proof of existing, tomorrow?”

“Is that too short notice?” Hoseok blinks at you as if trying to decipher if you’re being serious. When you don’t crack a smile or say anything else, he quickly realizes that you are completely serious.

“Well shit, I guess not. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you. I’ll make sure you can at least make it out there and maybe even make it back if it doesn’t turn out the way you’re hoping. Just in case.”

Ignoring the idea of not even making it to your destination and possibly embarking on this trip for nothing, you swallow your current mouthful of food, thank Hoseok, and work towards finishing the rest of your plate. Having only eaten bagged or freeze-dried food while flying to Salax, you’re more than thankful for the hot meal.

After dinner, you take your first real, hot shower in forever. Your shower on the ship is cramped and small and the water never gets to the steamy temperature you prefer. While you bathe, your mind focuses only on the fact that you’ll get to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Hoseok lends you some of his clothes while yours that you’ve scrubbed clean dry, the cloth pants and t-shirt ill-fitting but they’re a nice change from the same two pairs of cargo pants and t-shirts you’ve been rotating through.

When you leave the bathroom, Joshua is sitting on Hoseok’s couch, also donned in his clothes, and is flipping through the TV.

“Hey,” you call out, getting his attention.

“Hey. I don’t think I’m used to seeing you in such casual clothes,” he laughs, eying your outfit.

“I could say the same for you. I’m used to seeing you in nothing but designer fits.”

“It’s nice though. I never really got to pick the clothes in my closet, only what I’d put on for the day.”

Joining him on the couch, you sit close, your legs not quite touching. It may sound stupid, but even given what’s happened up until now, you’re not sure where you and Joshua stand as far as your relationship - if you can even call it that. The most contact you’ve had other than holding hands as you ran for your lives, was the hug turned cuddle he gave you before you landed on Salax.

The one thing you do know is how much the care you have for him has blossomed into so much more than the crush you’ve harbored since you first started spending time together back on Earth. Doing nothing but spending uninterrupted time together has solidified for you just how special he is and how important he is to you. Leaving everything you’ve ever known in your life sounds crazy but doing it for Joshua - with Joshua - felt like the best decision you’ve ever made.

At this point you could say you love him, but is it too soon for that? Joshua’s never even been in a relationship so what does this all even mean to him?

Before you can think too hard about it, his arm raises, draping over your shoulder. Trying not to react too obviously, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way his jaw is tight, eyes still trained forward to the TV. Instead of saying anything, you lean against him and close the gap between the two of you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. You can revisit this conversation later, but for now, you just want to appreciate this moment of calm before you’re on the move again.

Later that night, after Hoseok finishes working on a few clients’ ships and makes dinner, he begins his inspection of your ship. You join him by the spaceport while Joshua stays behind to rest. You sit on a spare fold-out chair Hoseok carried from his house for you.

“So, an idol automaton huh?” He smirks, quirking an eyebrow as he fills up the gas tank.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t strike you as someone who’d end up with an automaton. And an idol at that. How taboo.” He’s teasing, of course, laughing when you scoff.

“I’ve never cared about someone being an automaton, a human, or an alien. I’m open-minded, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah. But still, you gave up your whole life back on Earth for him.”

“I know that, but it’s not like I had a whole lot going for me anyway. My job was whatever, the people I hung out with weren’t reliable, and it’s not like my family talks to me. It seemed like the only thing that made sense. Still does.”

“You must really like him.”

“I do. A whole lot. People can say what they want but automatons are just as much human as us. So what if they don’t bleed or have organs? They have personalities and feelings and sentience and Joshua is eons better to be around than any human I’ve met.”

Hoseok gives you a look over his clear work glasses.

“Not including you obviously. But I do like him. I didn't think about whether I'd go with him or not when he said he wanted to escape. I didn’t second-guess it or anything. I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”

“Who knew you could be so sappy!” You flip him off, Hoseok only cackling at the gesture as he puts away his gas canister and moves around the ship to inspect it. “Well, I’m happy for you, Y/n. I know life has been feeding you shit for way too long. Being a fugitive seems like the nicest thing the universe could’ve done for you.”

“I agree. I just needed to run for my life to another planet for some real fulfillment.”

Hoseok rambles on as he does his inspection, telling you that things have been good for him too. He’s been in Salax for a couple of years and isn’t sure if how long he’ll stay, but he makes decent money now and has a solid clientele. He too seems much happier since he left Earth and you can’t blame him. Hoseok has always been a friendly man. The only reason you became friends was because he befriended you in pilot school and attached himself to you. At first, he was a little too excitable for your taste, but over the years he’s only served to become a staple in your life - even when he left Earth for a different life. He’s always been a ray of sunshine in your life, but seeing him shine even brighter now satisfies you.

After a thorough inspection, Hoseok only sees minor dings from the bullets on Earth and a rusted thruster which he says he can fix with no problem. He sends you to bed, ignoring your insistence to help him.

“Just because you can fly the ship doesn’t mean you know how to fix it,” he chides, waving you off. That’s also true. You know the controls on most standard ships and can navigate well, but when it comes to parts and repair, that’s not your strong suit.

“Don’t stay out here too late doing all this, okay? If you need to rest and work on it more tomorrow, we don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’ll have it done in two, three hours tops. Besides, you’re on the run. You can’t afford to stick around too long.”

He shoos you away one more time and you finally listen, making your way back to his house, at least bringing your chair back with you.

Joshua didn’t mean to eavesdrop per se. He just wanted to know where you were and when you were coming to rest. Since it’s dark out, the panic of staying hidden so much isn’t as intense, so he leaves Hoseok’s house to come find you at the spaceport. It’s not hard to see the two of you when not many people are out here at this time. As he approaches, he notices you and Hoseok are talking but doesn’t pick up what you’re talking about until he gets closer and hears his name. He ducks behind a ship parked a little ways away from yours, ears tuning in when he hears you talking about him.

He realizes that you’ve just said out loud that you like him. A lot. Joshua thinks if he had a beating heart it’d be pounding in his chest. Ever since you started to grow closer on the trip here, he’s wanted so badly to tell you that he wants to be more than friends with you. He knows for a fact he’s wanted to kiss you for a long, long time and he’s been holding out hope that maybe that time will come soon, especially now that it’s just the two of you.

He’s decided against it each time it passed his mind on the flight here and it came back when you rested your head on him earlier. You were so warm and so soft and you smelled amazing and he wanted nothing more than to finally kiss you, but he didn’t. You haven’t had a conversation about what you felt for him. He knows it’s always been more than professional, and he thinks that maybe it’s romantic, but the last thing he wants to do is assume.

“I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”

Hearing you say that - that you’ll do this together, does give him the courage he needs, especially knowing that you do care about him in a non-platonic way.

When the conversation shifts between you and Hoseok, he lingers for a little while longer, then decides to go back to the house to let you and your friend catch up. When Joshua first met Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel something negative stir in him when he embraced you, but when Hoseok did the same to him and continued to be extremely friendly, Joshua’s guard dropped.

Once he’s back to the house he retreats to the room you and he will share, getting into the bed you’ll both sleep in. The idea of sleeping so close to you again makes Joshua smile, wanting to put his arm around you like he did a few days ago. That gesture had taken courage he didn’t know he had, but since he’s done it and now that he knows you also have romantic feelings for him, there’s a new sense of boldness rushing through his wiring.

Joshua hears the front door open, but he only hears what sounds like a single person walking around. He wonders if it’s you, and when the bedroom door opens the next moment and he sees you poke your head in, he smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” he greets, watching you close the door before coming over to the bed and slipping under the covers, facing away from him.

“Hey,” your voice is a whisper even though he doesn’t hear Hoseok moving about. He drapes one of his arms over your waist and you immediately scoot back into him, his front pressed against your back. Joshua can’t help but lean over and inhale your scent, enjoying the way you smell like what he can only describe as home for him.

His lips are dangerously close to the soft skin of your neck and he wrestles with the idea of placing a kiss there for minutes, weighing the consequences before doing it. Joshua lets his lips graze your neck and he instantly hears the way your breath catches in your throat and notices that you jerk yourself back, body rubbing against him.

“Sorry,” you blurt, your body stiffening, but Joshua doesn’t mind.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, I just reacted. That’s a really sensitive spot for me.” You sound embarrassed, but Joshua isn’t bothered in the slightest.

Instead, he leans over and kisses that same spot again, getting the same reaction and he determines that he needs you to react like that more. His lips attach to your neck again, sucking a mark on the skin with enough force to make your toes curl. Tiny whines leave you as he lavishes your soft skin with his mouth and one of his hands - hands that are much bigger than yours - roams over your body, sliding up until he’s cupping your breast over your shirt. He cups you, fingers finding your nipple through the fabric.

You let out a gasp of his name and Joshua groans at the sound. Hearing you like this, all for him only makes him want you more.

He’s much more confident as he slips his hand under your shirt, kneading at your breast without the clothing barrier. Pleasure shoots up your spine as his fingers tug and tweak at your nipples, alternating between playing with each one. For a moment, you mentally apologize to Hoseok as you feel wetness pool between your legs, surely making the crotch of the pants messier with each twist of his fingers and each swipe of his tongue.

You’re sure he’s left your neck littered with marks with the way he’s teasing you without even realizing it.

“Joshua,” you breathe out, needing so badly to be touched elsewhere. You hadn’t planned on having your first time with him be so soon, but your building desire for him has only gotten more intense and he’s here right now, touching you like this and you need him so badly.

“What is it?”

“Need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

Instead of using your words, you take his hand and direct him beneath the waistband of your pants and between your legs.

“Oh my god, Y/n, you’re so wet,” His words are more of an observation, his tone full of surprise as he swirls his fingers through your arousal. You still clench around nothing at what he says and maneuver his fingers to your clit.

“Rub right there,” you direct him and he does, your body instantly jerking.

“Like this?” The pads of his fingers catch against your clit roughly and he’s using the perfect amount of pressure to have you stifling your moans, and failing miserably.

“Just like that, fuck.” Joshua adjusts to get a better look at you, gasping when he sees your expression. Your eyes flutter open and closed with each sound you make. Your lips are pulled between your teeth, eyebrows knitting together. Your hips move along with his hand, chasing the release that’s so close yet so far away.

Joshua’s fingers get curious, trailing lower to your sticky folds, prodding at your entrance.

“Yes, please,” you beg him, trying to adjust to get his fingers inside of you. He obliges, slipping a thick digit into your pussy, and you let out another soft whimper.

Joshua revels in how slippery you feel around his finger and how tight your body is. He pumps his finger in and out of you and lets out a pleased sound of his own. He’s never felt anything like this before, and everything in him is on high alert, his hunger for you stirring deep within him.

He slips another finger inside of you and you react immediately. One of your hands grasps at his arm, your nails digging in.

“Faster, please.”

He obliges, fingers pistoning out of you quicker than you’re ready for. You see stars dot your vision as the tips of his fingers brush that sensitive, spongy spot in you, your orgasm rushing at you with each move of his wrist. The fact that Joshua is an automaton nearly slips your mind until you take notice of just how fast he’s moving. He was built with endurance in mind which means he doesn’t tire the same as you or any past partners. In the past, at this point, a human’s arm would’ve gotten tired, but not Joshua's. His fingers continue to pummel your pussy, palm now cupping you, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit.

His pace stays steady and soon you’re hurdling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name. You have to twist your head and bury your face in the pillow to muffle your yelp as you cum, trying to stay mindful that the third person in this house could hear you falling apart around Joshua’s fingers at any moment.

The automaton marvels at you when your body tenses up before going lax, your hips stuttering as you buck against his hand a few more times. Joshua is obsessed with this - with you. Obsessed with the way you feel in his arms and his hands and how you feel around his fingers. He can’t help but wonder just how good you’ll feel around his dick. He’s already hard, his erection grinding into your lower back. That pressure feels good, but he just knows having his dick inside of you will be even better.

“Joshua. Please, I need you - need your cock. Do you want to?”

“Yes, I need to feel you so bad.” You take a moment to think through your lust, wondering which position would be best given the small bed and Joshua’s limited experience. You quickly decide to ride him, taking his fingers out of you so you can strip.

With wide, eager eyes, he watches you undress, eyes studying every inch of bare skin he gets to see. Curiosity overcomes him when his eyes dart to his still drenched fingers and he brings them to his mouth. When you’re naked and turn back to Joshua, you moan at the sight of him sucking your arousal off of his fingers. His eyes slip closed, and he lets out a satisfied hum so deep, your pussy aches at the mere sound.

Frantic hands help him out of his sleep clothes next, your eyes sweeping over him in the dim moonlight that creeps in through the cracks in the blinds. He’s unblemished and perfect. His arms and chest are buff and sculpted and the urge to cover him in marks of your own is strong, but that will have to wait. You need him so bad and you want to finish before Hoseok returns for the night, the fear of being overheard making you move with purpose.

You take in the sheer size and girth of his cock, recalling yet again that he was made to be perfect in every way. For a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him all the way, but you’re sure as hell going to try.

Joshua moans out loud when you grip his length, giving him a few strokes. He watches you spit on it, using your saliva to slick him up before you swing your leg over his waist. Keeping his dick steady, you hover over him, the tip slowly breaching your entrance as you ease down further.

Each inch of him has your body shaking above him, both of you letting out shared noises of pleasure. When he’s fully sheathed inside of you, a cry from the depths of your stomach slips out. You’ve never felt so full in your life and the stretch of him is almost too much.

You lift yourself on your knees before dropping back down, eyes squeezing shut at how good he feels. It’s hard to find a rhythm, at first, but when you do, it’s desperate and sloppy but exactly what you need. Joshua’s hands rest on your waist as he thrusts upward each time you lower, fucking up into you in perfect unison with your movements.

“Joshua, fuck. You’re s-so big,” you mewl, hands planted on his chest as you bounce.

“You like that?”

“I fucking love it.”

Pride takes over Joshua as his hold on you tightens. He pushes his hips up even faster, watching your eyes widen and your mouth hang open. He wants to memorize you like this. You’re always stunning, and you have been since the moment he met you, but this is a different kind of beauty that he’s never seen and he loves it.

Joshua plants his feet on the bed, using the leverage to thrust up with more force, almost knocking you over the side of the bed, but his hands keep you put.

“S-shit. Joshua, Shua, just like that!” The shortened version of his name just slips out and Joshua decides that he enjoys the sound of it.

He moves at a speed that makes you dizzy, the bed underneath you creaking under the force. Joshua is fucking you so hard, so rough, and you swear each thrust is deeper than the last even with you on top.

“Star, you feel so good. So tight around me,” Joshua grunts. “You’re so perfect.”

“I’m so close, Shua. I’m g-gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Star. Wanna see you,” His eyes take in your expression of ecstasy and the way your breasts bounce, but they finally land on your lips. They look so red since you’ve been gnawing on them and they look so shiny, practically calling to him to kiss you.

He does just that, one of his hands moving up to the back of your head to pull you down to his face. Joshua’s lips collide with yours, kissing you for the first time. The sensation is foreign to him, yet it feels like this is where he always should’ve ended up, here with you, buried deep inside of your warmth while your lips mold together, moving in a frantic rhythm as you swallow each other’s needy sounds.

Joshua’s tongue breaches the seam of your lips, lapping at every inch of your mouth he can reach. He eagerly wraps his tongue around yours and suckles while driving his hips up again and again. His lap is covered in your wetness and he feels you tremble above him.

“I’m cumming, Shua, I’m cumming!” You whine into his mouth and in the next second your limbs go stiff as you topple over the edge, vision blurring as you cum. The breath gets knocked out of you as you turn to jelly in Joshua’s arms. He has to keep you upright, but then he cums right after you, hips almost bruising yours while he shoves himself into you to the hilt, painting your gummy walls with his release.

A pathetic whimper falls from your lips as he empties into you, pumping you even fuller. He only falters a little as he fucks his cum back up into you.

“J-Joshua. Please, I’m so sensitive,” your voice sounds scratchy to your ears and it matches how tired the rest of you is.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls out of you carefully and oh so gently.

You flop next to him, lying in a heap against him as he wraps the blankets around you both.

“Wow,” he speaks after a while, almost feeling like he’s floating.

“Yeah. I can’t believe that was your first time.”

“It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done.” You can’t help but chuckle at him, fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down his arm draped over your waist.

“Just remember that I don’t have the stamina you do. I need a little time between to get my strength back.”

“I can wait. Do you need anything? I can go get you some water or I can get another blanket.”

“No, no. The only thing I need from you is to hold me.”

“I can do that.” He leans over you again to plant a kiss on your cheek, the gesture incredibly sweet.

“Good night, Joshua.”

“Good night, Star.”

The sun wakes you up the next morning, your body feeling sore and warm. When you realize that you’re still in Joshua’s arms naked, you remember last night. You smile to yourself, turning to look at him, seeing his eyes are already open.

“Good morning,” he greets, kissing you as soon as he catches sight of your lips. He swallows up your attempt to respond, a large hand cupping your face.

When he finally lets you go after you remind him again that you do need to breathe, he stays close to your face.

“I think I’ve found my new favorite thing,” he muses.

“And what’s that?”

“Kissing you. I think it might even be better than having sex with you.”

You snort at his answer, trying to hide the way your face burns at his words. “Well, you can do plenty of both of those things once we’re in flight again, but we should probably get a move on the day.”

He pouts momentarily, but finally agrees, letting you get up with one more kiss.

Hoseok is up when you’re dressed and leave the room, already in the kitchen when you come in.

“Morning sleepy head! You guys gonna head out soon?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to shower again since I won’t get the luxury of a full-sized shower on the ship.”

“Go for it. Your clothes are dry also, they’re on the couch. And you have to make sure you eat and take some food! Your boyfriend can’t eat but you have to!”

Both you and Joshua look at each other when he says that, but neither of you says anything about the new title for him, which Hoseok notices, laughing at the looks on your faces.

Two hours later when you’re fed, showered, and packed, Hoseok walks you to your ship, both you and Joshua are well-rested and ready for your journey. He demands that you try and radio him when you get there (“and you will get there,” he makes sure to add).

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Hoseok. You’re really saving us here.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for my friend.” He flashes you his heart-shaped smile once more and gives you a bear hug, arms squeezing you tight. “Be safe okay? I’ll be here for a while if you need me."

“I appreciate you more than I can say. And I say this with love, but I hope I don’t need to come back.”

“Fair. I also say this with love, but me too.”

Hoseok embraces Joshua next, telling him to take good care of you.

“I will. I always will.”

Another round of goodbyes later and you’re both back on your ship. You punch in the vague coordinates Hoseok could give you. Since no one knows where Lumen is exactly, all you can do is type in coordinates that are North, next to Galaxy 428B, and hope for the best.

Right before you lift off the ground, you wave at Hoseok through the window then steer the ship until you start your ascent. Once you breach the last layer of the atmosphere, you’re off again and you turn on the autopilot, letting your ship take over and do the most tedious part which is coasting until you reach your destination, whenever that’ll be.

“Are we on our way?” Joshua finally asks from his seat to your right as the dark expanse of outer space stretches in front of you.

“Yep. We’ve probably got months of just this.”

“And the ship is flying itself?”

“Well yeah, that’s how autopilot works, remember? We did it for Salax.”

“Just checking,” Joshua gives you a look that you can’t decipher before getting up and making it to you in a few strides, crashing his lips against yours. He kisses you breathlessly yet again, pulling away and letting you pant against his lips.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“You said we could when we were back on the ship,” he pouts, his round, brown eyes sparkling back at you.

“I know and we can, but right now?”

“Only if you want to, of course.”

“I do.”

“Good!” Joshua scoops you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing and carries you to the sleeping quarters of the ship.

“Oh my god, I’ve created a sex monster!” You giggle as he places you on one of the cots and starts pulling his clothes off.

“Not my fault being inside you is the best experience I’ve ever felt. And now we have so much time to spend doing it.”

You can’t really argue with him on that. There isn’t much to do when you’re coasting through space for an undetermined amount of time. So, you let Joshua get his fill of your body until you need to rest, eat, use the bathroom, and check the course of the ship.

Once all of your obligations are done, he fucks you again and again, almost making up for all of the time you couldn’t spend together. Joshua is an extremely fast learner and becomes an expert on all of the things you like and the ways you like to be touched in no time. And even though you’re exhausted you can’t find it in you to complain.

The time to Lumen feels almost unbearable. It’s a much longer journey than any you’ve ever taken. It gives you even more time to spend with Joshua which makes it all the more bearable. Lying and talking with him occupies all of your time (when he’s not bending you over any surface on the ship he can to try all of the things he’s only ever heard about). You love how easy it is to be with him and how easily he’s picked on habits of being a boyfriend and taking care of you. Even if you weren’t stuck in a flying metal tin with him you still don’t think you’d get sick of spending time with him like this.

That being said, you can’t help the paranoia that still creeps into your mind. What if this trip is all for nothing? What if you are flying towards a dead end and there is no Lumen, only a galaxy that goes on forever and ever? Sure, you can go back to Salax - you know that Hoseok will help you both and likely hide you until you deem it safe to be out and about on the planet, but you’ve never been very fond of Salax and don’t know if you necessarily want to call it your home long term.

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Joshua interrupts your overactive brain, your doubts sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You turn away from the window that you’ve been transfixed staring out of for who knows how long. You pull the blanket you’re draped in tighter around your body giving Joshua a small quirk of your lips.

“Yeah, I was just thinking…”

“Clearly,” Joshua sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you close. “About what?” Your body automatically leans into him, enjoying the warmth emanating from his bare chest.

“I’m just worried. What if we don’t find Lumen? Hoseok said that he doesn’t even know anyone who’s successfully made it and reported back. That’s terrifying. What if all of those people didn’t make it? What if they just ended up floating in space forever? Or what if Lumen is extremely hostile or unsafe? What if any of those travelers died? What if -”

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Joshua stops your spiraling, turning you in his arms to face him. “We don’t know any of those things, okay? All we can do is keep going and see where we end up. Worrying about it won’t help now will it?”

“No…”

“Exactly. So let’s just see what happens. How long do we have before we reach the galaxy it’s supposedly next to?”

“I’ll check,” he lets you unravel yourself from his hold so you can approach the cockpit to read the navigation. “We’re actually not that far from Galaxy 428B. Maybe another few weeks or so if we’re lucky. It’s already been a few months since we left Salax so it hopefully won’t be too much longer. If it’s even there that is.”

“Sit down, Star.” The usage of your nickname from Joshua’s lips only serves to make you melt, doing as he says and sinking into the seat in front of the control panel. Joshua approaches you, spinning the chair to face him and bending at the waist to kiss you.

His lips move over yours lazily, tongue soon following to poke your lips, asking for entrance. You let him in, his tongue immediately moving into your mouth. Joshua kisses you hard, hands cradling your face as your arms loop around his neck.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs open to get a look at your bare core. He makes a sound of appreciation deep in the back of his throat before surging forward, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue licks you from your entrance up to your clit a few times. Already having you sinking down in the seat to get closer to his face.

Joshua’s tongue plunges into your hole as he eats you out sloppily but with purpose. He laps at you, making out with your cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as you yell out for him, legs shaking as they wrap around his head to keep him where he is.

You already know Joshua is coaxing an orgasm out of you to distract you and keep you from worrying and it’s definitely working.

Joshua has done his best to be the calm one out of the two of you. When you start to stress and worry about where your journey will take you, he uses words of reassurance to keep you level-headed and uses sex to distract you which seems to work for both of you. When you’re not doing that though or when you’re asleep is when he also starts to have his own thoughts of dread.

Of course, he has the same worries as you; worries that your trip will only end in your demise or that you’ll get lost in space. It’s been months since you started your journey into the unknown and neither of you have any idea if you’re anywhere closer to your end goal. Joshua knows he can’t truly die, not in the same way a human, you, would. At worst, he’ll run out of charge if the ship is somehow damaged to the point that the electricity goes out. Then he’s in trouble. But you, there are so many terrible things that could happen to you.

You could starve or freeze to death. If you’re attacked by pirates you could be injured or even killed. The list of terrible things that could fall upon you is endless and it’s the main thing that sometimes keeps him from relaxing and letting himself close his eyes. It’s why he’s up now, leaving you curled up in the sleeping area while he paces the main part of the ship, willing his active imagination to shut up.

He nearly starts to spiral even more, when in the distance he spots something that isn’t just another moon or an asteroid. It looks an awful lot like a planet. A planet that looks a little like Earth from this distance.

Joshua frantically surveys the navigation before giving up, knowing he can’t read what it means.

“Star! Y/n!” He runs to the sleeping area, calling you until you groggily sit up, calling him in response.

“Joshua?”

“There’s a planet! It’s not super close but it looks a little like Earth!”

You’re up as soon as he finishes his sentence and sprinting to the cockpit to check the navigation.

“We definitely passed Galaxy 428B and the coordinates look right. Holy shit, what if that’s Lumen?!” He joins you as you continue flying towards the planet. It’s still going to take a few minutes, but you both stand there the whole time, hands tangled together as you wait for any signals that you’re close enough to possibly speak to someone on the intercom system.

The minutes feel like hours as they crawl by, the planet getting clearer and clearer as you approach. It really does look like Earth.

You grip Joshua’s hands even harder, his fingers caressing your knuckles to try and keep your nerves calm. When you’re close enough to start to see more details, you take the ship out of autopilot to steer it. Joshua rests his hand on your shoulders, watching as you press a few buttons on what you’d mentioned was the intercom system.

“Hello? We are requesting permission to land.” You speak, your words steady even though Joshua can feel how you tremble in his hold.

After a minute or so a voice comes back, asking you for your registration and the reason for your visit.

“Our registration is DA471561J. We’re travelers looking to land permanently.”

There’s a beat of silence as your hands grip the steering device, both of you waiting for a response.

“Permission to land is granted. There is a dock just East of your current location. Welcome to Lumen.”

A sob slips out of your mouth when you hear the greeting, thanking the voice. Joshua wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you change your direction, presumably to the East.

“We made it, Star. We made it to Lumen.”

“We did,” you sniffle loudly and Joshua holds you closer.

“I love you, Star,” he whispers. It’s not something he’s ever thought he could feel, let alone say to someone.

And then you came into his life and made it clear that he is capable of love and most importantly, he’s in love with you.

“Joshua…I love you too,” you breathe, tears still pricking your eyes. You love him so much - the words had been hanging on your tongue for a while, but your nerves never let you say them until now. Now that you know that Joshua loves you too.

The worry that had been sitting heavy on both of your shoulders slips away at the fact that you’ve made it safely to your new home after flying for so long and that you’re both doing it with the person that you love.

You stay close to Joshua when the two of you finally land and are greeted by some of the citizens of Lumen. You don't think you’ve ever seen this many different inhabitants on one planet, not that you mind.

A few of them introduce themselves and when they ask your names, you tell them Joshua and Star. Hearing them call you both by your new, preferred names really makes this feel real. You both thank everyone nearly a hundred times, mentioning that you’re from Earth and you are hoping this is your new home.

“Oh! You’re from Earth too!” A little girl exclaims as she clings to the adult she’s with who you assume is her mom. “There’s another person here with a robot from Earth!” Her mother shushes her, but you insist it’s okay.

“Do you know where they are?” Joshua asks the mother, who nods.

“Yes, they’re living in a house that’s just outside of a town not far from here. It’s near where we live. I’ll show you.”

“Please.” Joshua looks at you, eyes full of hope and you nod back enthusiastically. You don’t want to get too excited and assume that it’s one of his former members, but there’s a chance. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

You and Joshua arrive at the house the mother and her child directed you to, seeing the sheer size of it. You both scan the area as you approach, noting the little garden and the lush forest behind it.

As you approach, Joshua scans the surrounding area, not seeing anyone else around. He’s about to voice his curiosity about the place when he feels your steps falter next to him. When he looks over at you, he sees your wide eyes staring straight ahead at the house. He follows your gaze, spying someone coming out of the front door, face turned up, casually glancing at the sky. At first, he doesn’t think anything of it until the man turns, glancing over as if looking right at him.

“Oh my god…Joshua, it’s -”

“Seungcheol,” he’s already noticed him, looking shell-shocked at seeing his leader - his family - again after so long.

The two of you break into a run to get to your new home and sense of familiarity. You and Joshua want this to be a new start for both of your lives and it looks like you won’t have to do it alone.

Net tag: @kflixnet

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