#you'll all have to keep me updated on what's happening

[horsemeatluvr23]

skizz !!!! my partner pointed out that he lowkey looks like adrianne lenker in this drawing and i can't unsee it ..... also gonna be away the next 3 days (i'm doing a residential training programme to become a volunteer at a charity for trans youth !!) so i won't be online much and will schedule the next few drawings, i'll b back on monday :3

[tytonnidaie]

the most dangerous part of having a pet au that u never seriously work on except think abt it to ur writing playlist as u drive is that. you develop it. and it gets better. and then you really really want to write it. and you're in danger

[anonymouspuzzler]

HAPPY UPDATE DAY!!! 🏠

After all this time, all this hard work, I can finally tell you all more about my work on Welcome Home beyond "Dude Just Trust Me I Work On It I Swear" !!

I've been calling myself the "production manager" because a lot of what I've done has been in that realm - making checklists and spreadsheets, doing research, sending emails, and generally keeping our wonderful team on track to do the incredible things they do, with all the support they need! I'm very lucky and grateful to get to support Clown and all the incredible actors and artists we've brought on!!

that said, over the time I've been part of this project (I looked back and realized February 1st this year is when it all Officially Began, can you believe it), I've gotten to work on some more obvious, visible things you'll find on the site today as well! most prominently, I am very proud to say, I was the curator of the very real Welcome Home exhibition!! Clown was extremely generous and supportive in letting me bring his work into the world this way, and with their help it became bigger and better than I ever could have dreamed! Though this iteration was very small and private due to our venue, I hope the few of you I know who attended enjoyed it very much, and for the rest, know we hope to find ways to host the exhibition in other and more public venues in the future! (Where and when, I don't know, but I'll work hard to make it happen...!)

As part of the exhibition, I was able to create a lot of new props to help build the world of Welcome Home! Most excitingly, I was able to create a real working toy telephone, and help Clown to find our talented group of voice actors to provide the recordings! And of course, I was able to meet dear sweet Wally and Home themselves, who were the sweetest little peanuts and a true pair of professionals! Just delights to work with!!

Though this was my most prominent contribution, somehow, that wasn't all! You will find bits and pieces of my art and writing all over the newest website update (some places more obvious than others...), and I was able to contribute to building many of the new and updated site pages as well! We've all worked so hard on everything you'll find there, so I hope you all enjoy the exciting new additions to the neighborhood!

My final little statement while I have my sweet little soapbox here... every last one of you who has provided support, even just one ko-fi tip, has Directly made this update Possible!! Not only do these tips allow us very literally to pay for supplies, art, voice work and the like, it very directly Supports and Improves the livelihoods of every single person involved!! so if you have the means, and would like to do so, please do consider tipping or subscribing to Clown and/or any of the other artists and actors involved!

And with all that... thank you, neighbors!! And Welcome Home!!

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS JKK | DILF!NANAMI KENTO

A/N: It was very strange writing this to the sound of "snowy", sometimes I question my musical choices for inspiration ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

TW: afab anatomy, ftm reader, fluff, soft!dom nanami, hard!dom nanami, gentle sex, rough sex, v!sex, fingering, praise, body worship, age gap, vulnerable!kink, degradation, daddykink, eat out, mild bdsm.

♡ SFW :

He is a man so tired of the life of working and being a wizard at the same time that he just needs a release. You are his younger partner, a few years younger than the forty-year-old man. He was afraid at the beginning of the relationship because he didn't think he was as attractive as men his age, but as time went by he saw how much you loved that he was older than you, there was a charm in every dark circle cold expression on his frown that was too sexy in your eyes.

You'll also have to keep him updated on things that happen in your social circle ── he doesn't really mind but seeing you smile and talk so excitedly about a certain topic also makes him happy and much more relaxed from the daily routine. He doesn't understand half of the slang you and Gojo say when you get together, but he doesn't mind at all (just don't call him 'boomer' Satoru already does that a lot and it gets on the blonde's nerves.)

He likes to be greeted by you when he gets home. It may be a simple gesture but it fills your chest with a warm and fulfilling feeling as he kisses you on the top of your head, smelling you while an almost invisible smile appears on his tired face. "Did you behave while I was gone baby?" Nanami spoke with a hoarse and low voice, listening attentively to you about your day while smiling when he saw that at least his daily effort was worth it because it could give you a more tolerable and comfortable life. Even though he was tired, he would help you with dinner, lightly rambling about how tiring his day was and what you could do at the weekend.

If you mention that you saw something you liked in a store, Nanami will immediately write down the address and go buy what you want ── even if he works extra hours to pay all the installments, your smile is more important to him. "All for my boy right?" He would speak in a calming voice to your nerves, while his fingers tilted on your shoulder as a gesture of tender affection coming from the older man.

♡ NSFW :

The first few times you two fuck he will be a gentleman to you ── calling you "my sweet", "pretty little thing", "darling", "prince", "pretty boy"; talking about how your moans are the most beautiful thing he has heard. "Keep moaning boy... I want to hear everything from you." "What a beautiful voice you have, moan my name darling and let me hear more, say my name when you cum ok?" These would be some of the several phrases that Nanami would say while inserting two thick fingers into your swollen and wet pussy from the exaggerated stimulation he would do to your body.

He likes to eat out you, seeing you tremble and suffocate him between your soft thighs makes the blonde's cock practically cum without even entering you. He sucks your clit running his tongue in circles while his calloused hands keep your legs wide open for his warm ministrations ── Kento will whisper praises against your pussy making you shiver with each vibration welcome to your sensitive flesh. The blonde finds it cute the way you rub your hips desperately against his lips, making him place kisses on your abdomen and connect your lips, separating the kiss seconds later and looking directly into your eyes, watery with pleasure.

"Looks like you're in a hurry boy... Come on, come and ride my face, don't worry about your weight I can really handle it." Nanami moaned as he watched you obey his request and sat gently on his face ── your sweet smell and wet juices, the sound of your voice begging him 'not to stop' was like heaven to him. Nanami just wanted to make you ready for his cock.

When you reach your second orgasm of the night ─ crying and turning into a beautiful, stimulated mess for him, Nanami will finally shove his cock in your little pussy, moaning hoarsely and privately in your ear. "You can handle this, can't you little boy? You're going to cum on my dick again." Kento would groan, hands resting on the sides of your head on the mattress as he looked directly at every reaction you gave him ── from your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips, to the sight of your open mouth salivating and smearing your sheets, until your wet hole sucking his cock back into your throbbing heat. "Desperate to get fucked but too shy to do anything about it... my pretty little angel can't do anything but blush. Do you love my cock in you so much?" He smiled, as he accelerated his movements, intertwining your hand with his, feeling his balls hit your ass, making a slow, lazy wet noise.

However, if you want him to be rude and take out all the anger and stress on your body, Kento will do it with all the strength he has suppressed for years. Tying you with his tie and gagging your mouth with your own underwear ── you are not allowed to speak or ask for anything, at that moment you are his personal toy.

You saw Nanami's veins stand out from his forehead, neck and arms as he approached the edge of the bed, roughly opening your thighs ── your once gentle and sweet boyfriend gave way to a sadistic and cold dominator. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw your little fucked face just looking at him ── dazed and shaking, your pussy milking the air as he slapped your thigh hard, going to squeeze your breasts as you moaned against the fabric and tasted it of your own humidity. "That's what you get for being such a good boy." His voice was serious, as you watched him take the panties out of your mouth and take his cock out of his pants.

Kento would also have vulnerable!kink, meaning you will be totally naked while he will be clothed yet just taking his member out of his clothes and fucking you ── completely trapped by the weight of his body, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he pounds into your cunt, treating you like a personal cum dump. He would be rude and say the most vulgar things you had ever heard from anyone, the gentleman in him was gone with every thrust he made on your body. "You're nothing more than a pathetic cum dumpster," he hissed, his voice filled with biting contempt. "Do you like being degraded, my obedient whore?" he taunted, a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

He would fuck you to the point where you couldn't feel your legs anymore. With final painful strokes he breeds your pussy as he watches you cry his name. "shh... I got you boy, you were a good boy for daddy ok?" He spoke, returning to normal, holding your trembling body. After the rough treatment, you will be looked after like a prince by him ─ he will clean your body by giving you hot kisses on your face and offering you water. Kento would take you to the bathroom and clean up the traces of sex, while stroking your hair. "Sleep now, honey, I'll be here when you wake up." You knew he would be there like he promised.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[et6rnalsun]

DON’T, matt sturniolo

𝜗𝜚 pairing: matt sturn x fem! reader

warnings: unprotected & kinda rough sex (wrap it up rn), p in v, mentions of slighty toxic behavior in relationship, cheating (?)

A/N: dedicated to all the anons in my inbox asking for more matt fics 🎀 (requests are open. masterlist) ++ lmk if u guys want to be added to my inexistent taglist.

update: this has been in my drafts for 3 months

one moment you were resting your head on your boyfriend's chest, his fingers gently playing with your hair as you simply cuddled, and the next you were screaming the worst things at each other as you rushed to get your things scattered across the floor of his room.

he didn't have to say much more before sobs escaped your lips, tears falling down your eyes and ruining your mascara which only made your already messed up appearance worse. it was always like this between the two of you, no matter how good you had it since it didn't take much to ruin everything. to make chris put on his mask of carelessness and say the meanest things to you without even thinking about your feelings.

you didn't even know how to get home. you had to sleep there that night, and obviously you didn't want to stay in that house for a second longer. this made you cry more, your figure shaking with constant sobs as you thought of a quick solution.

eventually, the door to matt's room entered your field of vision, and a glimmer of hope lit up in your head.

you knocked gently on his door with your knuckles, and a murmur of agreement came almost immediately. when you opened the door, wiping the tears and the already dried mascara from your cheeks, matt was sitting on the bed as he looked at you with an expression mixed with confusion and sleep. his hair was disheveled, the sheets all wrinkled from tossing and turning around, and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all.

the sight made your heart skip a beat, and it was probably just the guilt eating you up entirely for waking him up in the middle of the night. "what happened?" his eyes filled with concern after seeing your conditions, and he quickly stood up as he approached you — his figure covering yours whole. one of his hands rested on your cheek, and somehow the warmth of his touch made you want to keep crying. inevitably you leaned into that caress, looking up into his eyes. "chris" the answer was enough to make him sigh, as if he already understood everything.

“i just need to put on a shirt, then i'll drive you home” he replied, his thumb leaving one last small touch on your face before turning and reaching for the piece of clothing. you leaned against the wall, watching him put it on. your eyes ran over his figure briefly, his v line highlighted as his arms came up. it was almost impossible for you to look away from the sight, and you instinctively bit your lower lip while your thighs were a bit more closed together. just a little.

you didn't know where all those feelings were coming from, considering that a few minutes before you were in total despair. but then, the sound of matt's car keys woke you from your daydream, and you cleared your throat as you placed a hand on the handle to exit.

"don't you want to change before going out?" he asked, patting your shoulder as he looked at the exposed skin of your body with his intense eyes. looking down, you noticed that you had completely forgotten how you were still wearing your pajamas; some shorts and a satin crop top. you shook your head, adjusting your messy hair as you both walked down the stairs. "i don't want to. nobody will see me anyway"

he let out a small, amused huff, pinching your hip playfully as you bent down to put on your shoes. "you'll catch a cold"

“can you just shut up and drive me home?” you feigned annoyance, but a small hint of a smile appeared on your lips as you returned the pinch with a small push. he chuckled, before taking off his jacket to place it on your shoulders. “come on, let’s go” he slid it off like it was a completely normal and natural gesture, opening the front door as he waited for you.

his scent completely invaded your nostrils, making you feel almost dizzy as you followed him without saying a word. his jacket was slightly big on you, bringing you the warmth you really needed but were too stubborn to admit.

the car ride was uneventful. your temple rested against the window as you watched the streets ‘move’ in front of you, completely quiet and empty. you could feel his gaze drifting over to you at times, staying there for a few seconds before returning his focus to driving.

“you didn't tell me what happened, anyway” his voice interrupted the comforting silence that had created between the two of you as soon as you stopped at a red light, making you turn your head slightly to look at him back. "the same things, matt. we can never find peace with constant fighting and he always seems to find ways to hurt me" you shrugged, your voice low and slightly scratchy from earlier crying. "he doesn't even think before he speaks, you know that better than me. but sometimes i really wish he would"

he took a few seconds before answering, as if he was thinking about it. "i always thought you deserved better. chris isn't ready for a serious relationship" his hand that was on the gear shift suddenly rested on your thigh, his ring-horned fingers stroking the exposed skin. he smirked a little before continuing, watching you shiver at his touch. "he's not mature enough"

you knew matt's words weren't meant to be mean to chris or anything like that, but there was an edge to his tone that confused you slightly. almost like he was hoping you would break up with his brother. "i can't blame him, maybe i’m the one pressuring him too much"

he scoffed at your words as the light turned green again, allowing you two to continue down the street towards your house. "i would really like you to understand that you are probably the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. i'm not the one experiencing it, but looking from the outside, i can tell"

you remained silent at those words, simply looking at him as he was focused on the road. you were beyond confused at that point, and you couldn't figure out what was right or wrong anymore. “if you say so” you decided to say, a small sigh escaping your lips.

soon, he had drove you home safely. you made him stop the car in the parking lot, knowing that you would remain in his company a little longer. "thank you so much, matt, really. you're a friend" your voice reached his ears softly, making him smile as he nodded. "you don't need to thank me" he reminded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “but i want to. it must have been tiring dealing with my sensitive ass all night” you giggled, making him roll his eyes affectionately. "a little. but the fact that you’re pretty has alleviated the suffering"

and then it all happened quickly. his slightly chapped lips had found your glossy ones in a desperate, resentful kiss, his fingers sliding into your hair and the back of your head to pull you closer. you found yourself responding to the kiss immediately, knowing that you weren't expecting anything else. his tongue made its way into your mouth quickly, his other hand trailing down the curve of your hip.

matt was desperate to have his hands on you and it showed in how he couldn't help but touch you everywhere, his touches were frantic as he brought you closer to him and tasted your mouth, what he could only watch for months, practically devouring it.

“get in the back” he practically pleaded, his breathing labored as he broke away from the kiss with a loud 'pop', while you moved quickly to settle into his backseat. his body was quick to tower over yours, his necklace dangling in your face as he pulled your shorts down quickly, before spreading your legs with his hands. he took in the sight of your delicate panties, so thin that it made his head spin. “fuck, you’re perfect” all while your hands already made its way under his shirt, before removing it completely.

he didn't waste any more time, and quickly unbuttoned his pants, groaning at the feeling of your legs already wrapped around his slutty waist.

panties torn with little importance, tip hastily aligned with your entrance before pounding into you without any preparation, making you moan his name out loud in pain mixed with immediate pleasure. "sorry, baby" he murmured, noticing your slight discomfort. he couldn't stop though, and at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around him he lost his mind and started with a fast pace right away, barely giving you a chance to adjust.

your nails were already digging into his back, scratching, leaving obvious marks that showed how much you were enjoying it — you loved that rough side of him, you really did, and you didn't care if you most likely wouldn't be able to walk for a while. cause you wanted it first anyway.

the windows were fogged, and the sound of your sinful moans and grunts were the only thing occupying the inside of the car, replacing the silence that would have been there with sounds that would be perfect for damn porn good enough to jerk off to.

it was devastating the speed with which you were both close to your orgasm, but it was probably the fault of all that pent-up tension that had finally disappeared in a quick gesture.

matt didn't think about chris as he came inside you, and neither did you as you let him. at all. he didn't even cross your fucked up minds while your bodies, sweaty and exhausted, entwined inside each other in search of a heat capable of calming those similar voids inside you.

but you soon realized you were done when your phone started ringing, and taking it lazily from your dropped bag, you read the name of your current boyfriend. chris.

[pirateprincessblog]

cosmos

18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.

🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)

🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."

"come on, you piece of shit."

"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."

"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"

if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.

however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.

once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.

"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"

he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.

they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.

but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.

now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.

an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.

until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.

his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?

yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.

he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?

yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.

they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.

he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.

his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.

"good evening, sir. ready to order?"

yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.

"what are you?" he finally speaks.

"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"

yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.

"made for our service, right?"

"indeed, sir."

"then, can you activate my pod again?"

"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."

the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.

"it's just a few buttons."

"i'm sorry sir, but-"

"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.

"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."

"bullshit."

"perhaps the young lady can help."

yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.

"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.

the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.

"you." he says through gritted teeth.

"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.

"i don't want to know your fucking name."

"w-what?"

yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.

"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"

"do not talk about my mother."

"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"

"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.

tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?

"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"

"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"

"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"

you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.

"right." he scoffs.

"you think he would lie to me?"

"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."

you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.

"that's what i thought."

"but... why would they let us board?"

"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.

you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.

"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.

"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"

yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"

"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."

yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"about three weeks."

"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"

you laugh, "more like three years."

"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"

you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.

"i have."

"and?"

"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."

silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.

"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"

he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.

"i can try."

yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.

soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.

"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.

he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.

you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.

"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.

"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"

"y/n."

"beautiful." he compliments.

"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.

"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.

you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.

"shit."

he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"

"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."

"oh. alright, i hope you find it."

"it should be on the main screen."

after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.

"yeosang?"

"yes?"

"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."

yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.

"help me out."

a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.

"yeosang?"

you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.

"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"

"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"

you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.

"my lord."

he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.

"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."

"you say it like it's easy."

"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."

you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.

"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you can see outside?"

"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."

you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"

"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."

he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.

"let's go."

yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.

"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"

"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.

"let's stick to short for now."

"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."

the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.

"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."

the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.

"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.

yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.

"so, the cockpit?"

"woah, take me to dinner first."

as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.

"so he makes all the food too?"

"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."

he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.

"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."

when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.

"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."

"sounds nice."

you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.

"where did you get that?"

"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."

the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.

"uh..."

"trust me. take my hand."

everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.

he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.

"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.

"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"

"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."

you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."

"do you think anyone lives down there?"

you shrug, not having thought about it.

"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."

it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.

"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."

"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.

"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"

"yeosang!"

almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.

"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."

"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.

"they can... hear you?"

"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."

"understandable."

using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.

"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."

"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"

"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."

he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.

"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.

it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.

"this one."

"you sure?"

"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."

"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."

he nods, still taking in the room.

"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."

"wow, you've really done some exploring."

"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."

"thank you, y/n."

a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.

"yes?"

"are you awake?"

"now i am."

"sorry."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.

"what is it?"

"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.

"three in the morning."

"oh."

you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"

"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."

"then... go to the gym?"

"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"

"ah, the library"

"there's a library?!"

"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"

his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.

"sure."

"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.

"sure, if you don't mind."

"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."

it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.

the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.

you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.

light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.

yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.

"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.

you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.

you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.

by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.

"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.

"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.

the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.

"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"

"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."

"ah, i never watched it."

"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."

yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."

"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."

you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.

"is that okay?"

"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.

he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."

"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.

"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"

"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"

"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.

you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?

"need help getting up?"

"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."

"you'll catch a cold. come here."

without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.

"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."

"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."

"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"

"fine."

you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.

"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.

your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.

"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"

"i guess, yeah."

"good girl."

before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.

"does it hurt?" he whispers.

"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.

"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."

it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.

"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."

"alright, then. eight tonight?"

"sounds good. got your card?"

he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."

"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.

"ditto."

you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.

eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.

yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.

"don't you look handsome." you smile.

he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.

"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."

"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."

he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?

"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.

"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."

"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."

yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."

"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.

"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."

"will do, sir."

two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.

"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.

he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.

"yes, miss?"

"put on some music, please."

"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"

"play something by elvis."

even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.

but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.

"you smell nice." he compliments softly.

you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."

"macadamia?"

"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."

"i like it. better than my old spice supply."

it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.

"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."

your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.

"a discovery?"

"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.

"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.

he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.

"wait, the card! i left it on the table."

yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.

you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.

"i'll put you down now."

he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.

"can i have the card please?"

you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.

finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.

he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."

"that's right, poke the weak."

"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."

you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"

"why, too lazy?"

"maybe."

yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.

"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"

a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.

your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.

"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.

you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.

the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.

you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.

"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.

no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.

"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"

"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.

he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.

"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."

"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."

you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.

"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."

you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.

"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.

"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.

"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.

"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"

"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"

yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.

"what is it?"

"you look like a penguin."

"yeah, well, so do you."

"i know. you just look cute."

he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.

"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."

"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.

"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."

"you're the one to talk! you always-"

"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."

"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.

he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."

you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.

"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"

"yes."

"can you hear me?"

"duh."

"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.

"ah, yes. i can."

"good. i hope you don't have to pee."

"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."

"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."

yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.

"pressure stabilized."

"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.

with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.

just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.

"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"

"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."

"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.

"ow! hey, what, what?!"

"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"

"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."

"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."

"i believe you."

"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."

with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.

"i'll let go now, alright?"

"what if we drift away?"

"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."

you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.

"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."

"i'm scared."

"you want to go back?"

"no."

"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."

you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.

"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."

due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.

"look, down there." he points to the side.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"

it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center. 

"it's a nebula." he simply says.

"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."

"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."

"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."

"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."

"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.

both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.

"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"

"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."

"sorry," you smile sheepishly.

"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.

"not yet."

"want to go a bit furth-"

a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.

one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.

"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.

the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.

"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.

but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.

"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."

"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.

"no!"

your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.

it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."

you couldn't have known, yeosang.

"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."

there was no way for you to know, yeosang.

"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."

don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.

"you don't deserve this, i do."

if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.

"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"

you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.

"none of it makes sense without you."

you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.

"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."

i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.

kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.

"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.

there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.

"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."

already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.

"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"

"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."

"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."

"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."

"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."

"and what does that make me?"

"you can be my queen hand."

"not your king consort?"

"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."

"whatever you say, your grace."

yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.

now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.

he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.

"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"

he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.

"can you hear me?"

your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.

when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.

the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.

hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.

he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.

yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes. 

"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"

the man steps back, recognizing your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.

he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.

"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"

"i'm fine. a little dizzy."

"i thought i lost you."

not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.

"how dare you leave me alone?"

"is that a way to speak to your queen?"

he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.

you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.

he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.

his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.

gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.

his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.

"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.

"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"

"no, you can- oh."

you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.

the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.

you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.

him, all of him.

a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.

"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.

your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.

he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.

you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.

he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.

"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.

"yes?"

"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.

"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."

the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.

"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."

"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.

"i'm so sorry for what i did."

"don't apologize."

"i will. you almost died because of me."

"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.

he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.

yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.

"please?"

"what do you beg for, pretty?"

"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."

"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."

it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.

tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.

he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.

you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.

 your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.

unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.

"that's a good girl," he whispers.

you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.

"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.

"i want it just like this. me on top."

"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."

"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."

"that's my girl."

driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.

the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.

you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.

the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.

"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."

such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.

"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."

your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.

"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.

but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.

"my love..." he moans.

"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.

"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.

"my queen of cosmos."

the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.

the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.

the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.

yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.

or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.

"i love you."

"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.

the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.

today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.

"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."

"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.

"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"

"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."

and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.

"is the rose too much, ryan?"

"depends on the occasion, sir."

"let's say... proposal."

"i believe it is too little, sir."

"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."

ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.

"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.

"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."

yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"

"it's what started your new fate."

"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."

"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."

yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"

"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."

"what?"

"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"

"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.

"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"

"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."

"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."

a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.

you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.

he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.

"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.

"don't."

"b-but-"

"do. not."

"you have to understand- i- i was just-"

his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."

"yeosang, please."

"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."

"please, understand me!"

"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"

pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.

"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.

you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.

it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.

days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.

you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.

today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.

you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?

you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.

the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.

you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.

he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.

upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.

"thank you." you whisper.

he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"

"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."

he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."

a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.

"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.

"no, the moment is gone now."

"want me to repeat it?"

you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.

"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."

"terrarium. i need... fresh air."

"i was headed there too."

"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.

"you don't have to. come here."

before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.

after the life you stole from him.

"i can hear you thinking."

"sorry."

"stop apologizing."

"okay, sorry."

he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."

"uh... sorry?"

for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.

"i understand." he starts.

"you don't have to-"

"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"

"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.

"angelic?"

"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."

he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.

"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"

yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.

"i'm sorry."

"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"

"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."

"but, yeosang-"

"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."

"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."

"i love you too, princess. say..."

"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.

"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."

you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.

"i can't believe you had it right here."

"had what?" you shove it into his hand.

"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.

you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.

"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"

"i will, my queen hand."

🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)

@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed

[ayselluna]

Spawn Astarion Recommendations!

So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.

I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))

I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!

The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!

The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!

Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!

Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!

When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!

Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))

Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!

Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!

The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!

An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~

I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.

Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!

[another-lost-mc]

When MC Needs Surgery

Featuring: The Demon Brothers, the Dateables (most briefly/vaguely mentioned) + gn!Reader

Content/Warnings: Mentions of unspecified health problems, surgical procedures and medical devices. Relationships with the cast are intended to be platonic but may be interpreted as romantic in nature (friendship was the focus here rather than romance). Word count: 3.2k.

A/N: This is dedicated to surgery!anon who requested something for their upcoming surgery. Based on the vague details mentioned to me, I assumed there might be some overlap with my own experiences which is what this is loosely based on. I guess I wrote what I would've liked to have read before my own procedures. I hope this provides some comfort to you as well.

PRE-OP

Some of the demons might wonder why they can't just find some spell to fix what's wrong with you, because how tricky can human anatomy really be? But after Satan does some research and helps you explain to the others (in easy to understand terms while being sensitive of the private details you might not want to share), they realize that perhaps your medical care is best left to the professionals after all.

Lucifer, Diavolo and Barbatos handle the logistics of your care before and after your surgery. Details from your appointments with your medical team help them get a better idea of how long your recovery will be and where you should stay once you leave the human world hospital.

There is some disagreement about whether you should stay at the House of Lamentation or the Demon Lord's Castle. There are pros and cons about staying at the House of Lamentation.

Pros: all of the demon brothers are there to help you when you need assistance.

Cons: all of the demon brothers are there.

One of the concerns – and it's a reasonable one, if you ask anyone but the brothers themselves – is that they might be too demanding of your company in your condition or inconsiderate of your privacy, and possibly neglectful of your need to rest comfortably and quietly.

As the other alternative available to you, the Demon Lord's Castle has spacious rooms so that you'll be able to have everything you need. Your friends are welcome to come and go within reason, but their visitations will be limited to prevent you from being overwhelmed. Ultimately, the choice is left to you.

When you start attending your pre-op appointments, Lucifer goes with you if you don't ask one of the others to go in his place. He's one of the best choices despite his unfamiliarity with the medical ordeal you're about to go through. He quickly picks up on the details of your procedure and the types of support you'll need during your hospital stay and once you're discharged. He helps you prepare a list of questions and concerns for each appointment; the doctors and nurses can't brush your questions aside easily, not when Lucifer is there to ensure that the answers you're given meet his satisfaction.

Later on, Lucifer provides updates to his siblings and your other friends who are keeping tabs on these developments. It's best that they're all aware of what to expect and so that they can help you prepare for what's to come.

In the days leading up to your surgery, everyone does their best to ease your nerves but do a poor job of hiding their own anxieties. It doesn't really register as a real thing that's about to happen until you get notification that your surgery is only a couple days away, and suddenly it feels very, very real.

Lucifer prepares for your long-term absence from RAD and makes sure that any of your obligations – your clubs or student council duties or your part-time job – are dealt with. He buys anything and everything the doctors recommended for your recovery once you return home. If any modifications are required for your bedroom or private bathroom, he plans to have those completed during your hospital stay. (He's grateful your room is already on the first floor of the house, although he would've built one for you if he needed to.)

Mammon and Levi spend as much time with you as they can when they're not busy with other things they try to keep secret: Mammon's new job so he has extra money to buy you get-well presents (bigger and better than all his brothers) and the games and movies Levi has been ordering since he anticipates your recovery will be boring. What better way than to pass the time (hopefully with him?). Satan wanted to go to your appointments with you but he kept grumbling things like, if someone cuts you open, I'm going to cut them open. He's been focusing his efforts on researching which sorts of potions, elixirs or spells might help you recover faster and obtaining the materials he needs for them.

Asmo took you shopping (more than once) to pick up the items on your pre-op checklist of things to bring with you to the hospital: comfortable loose-fitting clothing, slippers, basic toiletries like your toothbrush. Everything he picked for you wouldn't fit in three overnight bags, let alone the single duffel bag you planned to take with you. He just put everything in your dresser and closet and insisted they'd be useful once you were discharged and allowed to come back home.

Beel was curious about your diet recommendations when you come home and he realized that the spicy Devildom foods you like are probably going to be too difficult for you to eat for the foreseeable future . He spoke to Lucifer and Barbatos about his concerns, and they plan to stock the fridge and pantry with all the recommended foods that would ease your recovery and reduce the risk of complications later. Beel took you out for dinner one evening, as a sort of last hurrah. He felt guilty that he didn't realize how serious this was and he admires you for being so brave about something he can't imagine going through himself. He offered to follow your post-surgery diet with you as a show of support because he doesn't want to be insensitive and eat all the delicious foods you won't be able to.

Belphie gets a bit irritated that his brothers take up so much of your time leading up to your surgery date. If you've been feeling tired or unwell leading up to your surgery, you put on a brave face for their sakes but he knows better. He can't take away your pain or discomfort, and he certainly can't fix you the way these human world doctors claim they can, but he can help you relax after a long day of appointments and preparations and pretending you're not as nervous as they all are. He can sense your anxiety rising as the date of your surgery draws near: you're not sleeping as well as you used to, tossing and turning into the late hours of the night and showing up to breakfast looking worse than you did the morning before. Fortunately, that's something he can help you with. He leads you to the attic to sleep and tries not dwell on how long it'll be before after your surgery when you'll be able to climb those steps again. He lulls you into a comfortable, dreamless sleep so that you can as much rest as possible leading up to the big day.

The evening before your surgery, the brothers are practically vibrating from nervousness. Everyone seems on edge and distracted. Asmo ruins his eye makeup from getting teary-eyed and he's especially clingy. Dinner is awkward when the brothers remember that you can't eat your regular diet anymore. You're limited to bland fluids in addition to the jug of prep you need to drink. You drink the powder mixed with ice-cold water and gulp it down – after the first pouch, you disappear into your bedroom. Eventually you come back and rinse and repeat, drinking and refilling that jug until its as empty as you are. (Beel was curious and drank a bit of it despite your warning that he probably shouldn't – his stomach made the strangest sounds the rest of the evening.)

When it's time for bed, you expect to collapse onto your mattress and toss and turn until your early-morning alarm goes off. What you don't expect is for Lucifer and his brothers to lead to you his room with the giant bed that happens to be big enough for all of them. The mood feels somber and you can tell they're as nervous as you are – even Cerberus spends the night in Lucifer's room, lifting his heads up once in a while to check on you while he keeps guard at the foot of the bed. It's the Devildom's most awkward cuddle pile, but eventually you fall asleep surrounded by seven very worried demons who can't manage to sleep themselves.

THE HOSPITAL

Your alarm goes off early that morning – far too early for your liking, but you're eager to get this entire thing over with. Most of the brothers are already awake and finalizing preparations to accompany you to the hospital. You have time for a quick shower and toss on a comfortable shirt, sweatpants and slip-on shoes – you don't need to look good where you're going, and you won't be wearing these clothes for very long.

The others arrive so Barbatos can summon a portal for everyone to take. Despite your many reminders, everyone insists they want to come and support you, including your friends from Purgatory Hall and Diavolo himself.

(What you suspect but don't know for certain is that Diavolo arranged for your care in the human world hospital you'll be staying at. There were concerns about visitor limits and securing the largest and best private room for your recovery, but a generous donation from the Hotel Corvo corporation helped ease some of those administrative hurdles.)

You're only allowed one support person to accompany you to the surgical unit, so the others grab coffee and pre-packaged muffins and slowly make their way down to the waiting area. Lucifer – or whoever you asked to accompany you instead – sits with you while you wait for your name to be called.

Time passes in a blur. You put on a starchy hospital gown and housecoat while you tuck your belongings into a plastic bag and carry it with you. The nurses direct you to a chair and go over the standard medical questions you've answered a million times before. You look away when the IV goes in, and on the other side of you, warm fingers squeeze your hand.

You're tired and nervous and there are too many thoughts racing through your mind, but you sit in silence while the clock ticks down. You shuffle awkwardly down a sterile hall with too-bright lights when it's finally time, and you hope the smile you shoot over your shoulder at your companion is convincing. (It's as unsteady as you both feel when you disappear with the nurse who leads you to the operating room.)

Maybe it's the exhaustion or the empty, upset stomach distracting you while you sit on a table and ignore the cool fingers and pinching sensation in your back while they prepare the epidural because you barely feel it. You lay on a narrow table with a blood pressure cuff on one arm and your IV in another, and when the medications quickly pull you into a dreamless sleep, you feel a last-minute sense of comfort knowing that your friends are waiting close by and they won't let anything bad happen to you.

While you're in the OR, your friends make themselves comfortable in the visitor's lounge and they wait for news. Four hours, six hours, eight hours later – none of them want to leave until they can see you're alive and well with their own eyes. You warned them all it would be a long and boring day and they insisted they wanted to come no matter what.

Some of them fidget in their seats and pace when their nerves get the best of them. Levi's handheld beeps and the buttons click noisily as he plays his game, and Satan tries to focus on a paperback he picked up in the gift shop. Mammon spends way too much money buying Nevada tickets from a vendor in the hospital lobby (“It's for charity, ain't it?!”) and rubs it in Lucifer's face when he actually wins something. Asmo frets with embarrassment when he sees the SCENT-RESTRICTED FACILITY poster on the wall and covers the scent of his expensive fragrance with a dampening charm to avoid upsetting the staff (and makes note to skip the heavily-scented body products for future visits). Belphie accompanies Beel to sample the cafeteria's food, multiple times.

Throughout the day, small groups take turns leaving the waiting room to grab fresh cups of coffee or sandwiches to snack on. Diavolo and Barbatos confirm with the hospital staff that your private room is ready with the special amenities they requested for you, including a cot that an overnight guest can sleep on. You chose your preferred companion in advance, and none of the others dared voice their petty disappointment that they weren't chosen instead. What matters most is that one of them is with you at all times to assist you in your weakened state (they called it protecting you, but you tried to reassure them without success that they were being too dramatic). The others are free to visit as much as they like, as long as you're comfortable with it of course.

It feels like eternity before news reaches your friends as your surgery ends, and then another update a couple hours later when you're moved from PACU to your hospital room. The nurses have already gotten you settled into your accommodations by the time the first visitors hesitantly step inside to see you. Despite the preparations and expectations and warnings, they're still not prepared for the machine humming and beeping at your side as it pumps various medications through your IV. There's a remote looped around the bed by your arm that lets you administer more pain medication through your epidural.

It's gotten late and the surgical ward is quiet except for the ambient sounds of nurses chatting quietly at their station or other machines beeping in nearby rooms. Against the standard-issue hospital linens and the thin gown you wear, you look more vulnerable than they've ever seen you, their perfectly imperfect human who’s gone through so much in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it's a good thing that you're overcome with exhaustion and only have fleeting memories of your friends' worried faces when they each came to see you before bidding you goodnight with a promise to come back in the morning. Some struggle to contain their emotions more than others, and there's a collective understanding between all of them that perhaps they've taken you for granted because they never want to see you like this again – not if they can prevent it.

Your nighttime companion sits at your bedside most of the night and watches over you in case you show signs of discomfort or pain. They pull the cord to alert the nurses when you wake up queasy and you request something for your upset stomach with your scratchy voice and dry throat. You can't eat or drink yet, but the nurse leaves a small plastic cup of ice chips at your bedside – it's enough to remove the cottony feeling from your tongue and throat, and you can sleep once more.

Your demon friends aren't familiar with modern medicine and none of them know what the bags of fluids hanging next to your bed are. RINGERS scrolls across the screen of the IV pump but it’s anyone’s guess what it means. All they know is that it seems to be important as it’s one of the last medications you stop taking before your IV is eventually removed. Tonight and throughout the days that will soon follow, the machine beeps loudly – and often – when the bag runs dry. They remember which button to hit to turn off the awful alarm so that the disturbance doesn't wake you while they wait for a nurse to come with a replacement.

RECOVERY

The first few days are some of the most challenging, but all of your friends are there to support you as much as they can. At least one of them is present when the surgeon and his residents make their early morning rounds. You can't bear to look at the staples and incisions hidden under the thick dressings that cover a large part of your lower belly, but the surgeon and nurses all claim that things look fantastic. You can't help but snort at the odd feedback, and Asmo reminds you that there's plenty of creams that can help with minimizing those scars later, if you want them. (He prefers you exactly the way you are, scars and all, but he keeps his opinion on that subject to himself.)

Your post-surgery diet is severely restricted until you're able to tolerate basic fluids again, and solid foods are introduced slowly too. Beel reads over your daily menu selection and glares at the abysmal tray of hospital food that is delivered to your room. He tastes some of the dishes and wonders how they can make something as simple as broth or cream of wheat so unappealing. Barbatos sips the lukewarm mug of tea on your tray that you ignore with each meal; you warn him that it's not good, and the pain in your stomach is worth it when you shake with laughter at the offended grimace that sours his expression. He promises to bring you drinkable tea from now on, and he and Beel both bring acceptable alternatives to your hospital fare in accordance with your current meal plan.

One of the most challenging things you didn't expect – and it catches your friends off-guard too – is how difficult it is to get up and walking again. After a few days in bed with the epidural numbing you to the worst of the pain and being mostly stationary aside from some breathing exercises, it's time to get up and take the literal first step towards your journey home.

Your friends scoff at the idea of a physiotherapist coming to help you, until they hear the first cry of pain when you sit up on the edge of the bed and breathe heavily like it's the most ardious feat you've ever accomplished. It's another reminder that this was a tremendous thing for your delicate human body to go through, and even though they can't just take away your pain or fix things magically (no matter how much some of them might want to), they'll do what they can to help.

They don't tease you when they slip your shoes onto your feet, and they don't stare or ask about the various bags of fluids hanging from the IV pole you lean on for support while you shuffle your way around the ward one lap at a time. They match your pace and are ready in a moment's notice to support you if you lose your balance, and as soon as they sense you're pushing yourself just a little too hard, they help you back into bed where you fall asleep not long after.

Things carry on that way until the surgeon announces tentative plans for your release. By now, you're bored out of your mind and eager to be anywhere but in that bloody hospital room. Your friends are eager to have you home again, and the air is charged with excitement for the first time since your surgery. Everything you need for your recovery at the House of Lamentation – medications and supplies and your diet plan and anything else you could possibly need – are ready for you.

On the day you're finally discharged, they help scan your room to make sure all of your personal items have been packed away for the trip home. One of them carries your duffel bag for you while a couple others carry boxes filled with the numerous gifts, cards, and vases of flowers that filled nearly every available space of your room. (The human world flowers have started to wilt, but the arrangements from the Devildom and the Celestial Realm, including the bouquet you received one day with a note signed only with “M”, are still blooming flawlessly as ever.)

[theresattrpgforthat]

How To Find Cool Games: On Itch.io!

As I drift into a reduced posting schedule, I figured I’d give everyone a peek behind the screen for how I cultivate ttrpgs for recommendations! Some of these tips might even help you find your next favourite game.

This is a long read so let's put most of this beast under a read-more. Keep in mind that many of these strategies work best when you're checking itch.io a little bit every week, and when you're engaging with the platform as more than just a store page. There's a lot of features that you can choose to engage with if you want to find the game for you!

browsing physical game recent releases. This helps me see what’s new and happening, and it helps with a number of things. First of all, I get to see new games pretty much every time I browse recent releases. Secondly, I get a good sense of what’s currently popular in the design space. Thanks to my weekly browsing, I recognize Cy_Borg, Shadowdark and Mausritter as games whose content shows up rather regularly - if you see a lot of products attached to one game at once, that’s a good sign that there’s a related game jam going on (in this case, Shadowdark), or that a game is really resonating with its player base.

sorting games into collections. I personally organize by genre, system, player configuration and (in Games That Intrigue Me) games that I’m personally really hyped about. This works for me because of the nature of my work, but a few collections sorted according to level of interest or game style might work better for you.

Depending on the need, I might have a collection that works specifically for the request - Neon Lights & Cyber Nights is perfect for cyberpunk games, but I might also reference this folder for combat, inventory mechanics, resistance themes, or interesting tech rules. LUMEN is great for folks who want fast-paced games, folks who are looking for certain kinds of video games, or folks who want to feel powerful. If you follow other people on Itch, you'll probably also be able to see their collections, which is a great place to browse.

searching game tags. I don’t typically use the regular search feature, although recently the website did update the toggles to restrict your results to physical games, video games, etc. Instead what I usually do is type what I’m looking for into the url: so in this case, [deck-building]. I might use a couple different wordings, such as [deck-builder] and [deckbuilding] (no spaces). You’re not going to find everything that includes the thing you’re looking for, but you’ll definitely find places to start.

Game Jams! I find these either by looking at the “Jams” tab (although you'll have to wade through video games here) or by noticing that a number of games being published recently have the “for the _” jam in the description. Alternatively, I might be reading the page for a game and see the little “Submission” badge in interaction buttons. There’s game jams for specific systems, game jams for various themes, game jams with special restrictions, and game jams that are titled things like “finish your damn game jam.”

Bundles. I typically buy big-ass bundles and then sort through the games in my downtime. These games are sorted into collections for future reference, and if a game really pops out - into the Intrigue Me folder it goes! And the best part is that I already own it, so if I want to learn more, I can just download it and start reading.

following game designers that I like. This way I’ll get notifications if they release a new game, update an old game, rate someone else’s game, or sort games into their own collections. I also get to see what other folks in the space are excited about - on the day I was browsing, Plasmodics by Will Jobst was really hot.

If you follow me on Itch, you’ll get a notification every time I add a game to one of my non-private folders! Also - you can interact with designers on Itch by liking their updates, and even commenting on their posts, which is a great way to get involved in the design community - and also just make a designer’s day!

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Me, after doing 15 minutes of excessive googling on every Batfam member's birthday only to then realize I've accidentally missed the majority of them this year, and then also finding out that people are still aggressively debating over whether Bruce's birthday is April 7 or February 19, Dick's birthday happens 3-6x throughout the year, and Stephanie might have just popped into existence for all that DC cares:

Batfam birthday dates btw for anyone who needs them are listed beneath the cut:

DISCLAIMER: DC is notorious for being super inconsistent with everything and I am a mere tadpole caught in the tidal wave of DC's ocean. This post will be regularly updated with edits and corrections so please do not use it as word of law, I am begging you.

Update (8/24/23): To keep things more simple and easier for everyone I am going to start categorizing the birth dates I've collected into 3 categories.

-Most popular: Self-explanatory. These are the birth dates that have been canonized and confirmed by DC and are also more wildly celebrated by the fandom. Typically, this should be the first result you see when you google the character's birthday. But not always because DC sucks ass.

-Other date(s): These are the additional birth dates I come across that have been canonized in some form with multiple sources, but are not as wildly celebrated or popularized by DC and/or the fandom. Why am I including them here? Mostly because I don't want people coming in saying I forgot a date. But also because if I have to see this mess, then y'all have too as well.

-Potential but unconfirmed date(s): This is where I will put all the other additional dates I find, but specifically those that are lacking in complete sources or seem to be highly debated and scrutinized.

Also fun emoji ranking guide for me and me alone:

👑👑: Queen Shit. Characters with a consistent and simple birth date(s). Can absolutely do no wrong.

👑😮‍💨: In the Running. Characters who don't have a set birth date, but the mess is minor and completely DC's fault. They shouldn't have to be punished for DC's crimes.

🤡🤡: Gtfo. Shit is so inconsistent and stupidly messy that it's making me lose my shit. I'm putting DC and the characters on trial for this bullshit.

👑Alfred Pennyworth👑

Most popular: August 16

Other date(s): April 8 and March 31

(I think it'd be hella cute if Jason and Alfred shared a bday. But if you keep scrolling through the rest of the list, you'll see that August is kind of an overcrowded bday month for the Batfam.

Depending on what you prefer, though, I still think Alfred's worth being celebrated. Lord knows he deserves a special day for himself)

(Update ((8/24/23)): No big inconsistencies between these dates. I just thought it would be fun to provide some info on why Alfred has two canonical birthdates.

So the reason August 16 is viewed as the most popular is for two main reasons. One, obviously, is that he shares a birth date with Jason Todd. So many fans latch onto this date because of how sweet it is for them to share a birthday together.

The second reason has to do with the origin of the birth date. This is because of the more recent retcon that was made by the prequel comic to the Injustice: Gods Among Us video game that was published in 2013. There is a panel in the comic that shows Alfred's birth certificate in full detail from his full name, his place of birth, etc.

As for April 8, this specific date technically has more history compared to August 16. Fans will cite that April 8 was the official date selected by DC according to their Super DC Calendar back in 1976 (which btw was made in 1975).

Compared to August 16 and April 8, however, March 31 oddly enough isn't that popular or recognized by DC or the majority of the fandom. The reason March 31 does come up is because March 31, 1943 was the date when Alfred made his first appearance in the comics, one day after Bruce/Batman)

🤡Bruce Wayne🤡: Hey. Hey, DC, look at me. Bitch.

Most popular: February 19 or April 7

Other date(s): April 25, May 27, March 30, "October," October 7, and "November"

(It looks like most people go with February 19, but don't come at me if you're a April 7 truther. I'm just existing)

(Update ((8/20/23)): I'm gonna shoot somebody. So after doing a little bit more research, I came across-you'd never guess it-even more conflicting info on when Bruce's birthday is supposed to take place.

While April 7 and February 19 are still popular days for fans to celebrate Batman's bday, March 30 is also considered a popular date due to March 30, 1939 being the day Detective Comics #27 ((the issue Batman debuted in)) was put on shelves.

HOWEVER, even Batman's debut is contested to actually be May 27, 1939 because despite the fact that Detective Comics #27 first appeared to the public on March 30, 1939, the cover issue depicted May 27, 1939 instead.

This is because it was a popular practice for comics publication houses to falsify their cover dates as a way to give the impression that the latest issue was newer than it actually was. So if you really, really wanna get super fucking technical about it ((and I know there are some of you out there who do)), Batman may have debuted on March 30, but the cover-issue date was May 27 so, yes, I guess Bruce could have been a May baby instead.

I hate it here.

Oh, and to make matters more complicated, let's discuss the issue of April 7 vs April 25. So the reason April 7 is a popular bday for Bruce is because the original 1930-40s run just outright stated that April 7 was his birthday. Simple enough.

So what does April 25 have to do with this? Well, that's because technically-I think I hate that word now btw-Batman didn't get his own solo comic until April 25, 1940. If you want to go by April 25 because of this logic, however, that means that you'd have to share Bruce's birthday with the Joker. Because guess what? That's also the exact date that the Joker debuted.

I'm personally not a huge fan of Bruce and the Joker sharing a bday. Mostly just because the dates are clearly already complicated enough. But also I feel like April 25 is just known as the Joker's bday at this point, at least in the DC fandom. And Bruce has so many options at this point that it'd be kinda silly to make them share a bday.

As for the "sometime in October" and "sometime in November" additions, we have Batman The Animated Series and Frank Miller's "Batman: Year One" to thank for those extremely vague options.

BTAS Bruce states that his birthday is "sometime in October" and "Batman: Year One" Bruce is responsible for "sometime in November." I repeat: I hate it here.

So when is Bruce's actual birthday? Well, the latest change that DC has "officially" made was the February 19 retcon during the 1970-80s. When a fan sent a question into Detective Comics about Bruce's birthday, the answer given was "February 19" in the letter column. Issue #494, to be exact.

And the reason this answer was given? Because the Super DC Calender for 1976 (again made in 1975) said so.

However, there are still people who prefer to celebrate his bday on April 7 or March 30 instead. And there's also a question floating around if the New 52 run could potentially retcon Bruce's bday AGAIN at some point in the future.

I. Hate. It. Here.

Personally, I liked February 19 because then Alfred could maybe have the month of April to himself. But after seeing all this new info, I'm just sort of resigned to whichever date that the fandom prefers. Y'all can decide. I don't have any energy left.

Also, I can't believe I have to accuse Bruce of having possibly taught Dick his bday scam. Just .... wow).

(Update ((8/24/23)): Well, DC did it to me again. I found this extra little tidbit while googling the Super DC Calendar for Alfred, actually.

So Issue #10 of the 2021 Legends of the Dark Knight decided to give the BTAS's "sometime in October" an actual sometime.

How do I feel about yet another Bruce Wayne bday retcon? Honestly, I think I'm moving closer and closer to just a bland state of acceptance at this point. Tbh, I don't think all these retcons actually matter that much in the end. DC is gonna keep being DC.

Which is annoying. But Idk I'm personally gonna stick with February 19. No shade to you if you prefer any of the other dates. I just like February 19 more than the others)

👑Kate Kane👑

Most popular: March 21

Other date(s): January 26

(So ... where to start to with this one?

Well the official DC canon birth date for Kate Kane is listed as March 21. That being said, if you were to google Kate's birthday right now, you might be confused because that's not the first result that comes up.

Instead, you'll be greeted with January 26, 1990.

So what gives? If there's already an official DC approved birth date, then why the fuck is January 26 coming up all of a sudden?

Well, folks, you have the CW's Batwoman to thank.

Tbh I was very confused as to how I completely missed that there was an entire Batwoman TV show in the first place.

Apparently the show is considered a part of the CW Arrowverse (in reference to the CW show Arrow featuring Oliver Queen, for those of you who need extra info) and ran for 3 whole seasons before being cancelled on April 9, 2022.

And they gave us actual canon lesbian Kate Kane rep. I mean, she is a lesbian. But yeah. CW actually acknowledged her sexual orientation. So kudos for doing the bare minimum?????

Anyway, I guess the showrunners just decided they wanted Kate's birthday to be on January 26 instead of March 21??? Idk if this was supposed to be a reference or an homage to Cassandra Cain's birthday. I doubt it, but who knows?)

🤡Dick Grayson🤡: Greedy bitch who keeps lying about his birthday so he can scam people into giving him more presents jk jk

Most popular: "On the first day of spring" (bruh) or March 20/21

Other date(s): March 6, "April," October 24 (aka "the week before Halloween"), November 11 and December 1

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): June 24

(Dick's canon bday seems to be influx. March 6, March 20, March 21, November 11, June 24, December 1, and so on. I did see multiple sources state Dick was born "on the first day of spring." I'm unclear atm about whether this is a fanon take or if it was actually stated in a particular comic at some point.

As far as I'm concerned, Dick just keeps lying about his birthday for the lols)

(Update ((8/24/23)): Well, guess what I found, folks?

It's a return visit from our favorite friend, the Super DC Calendar of 1976. And according to it, Dick's birthday should be November 11.

You can also thank the Young Justice comic for the confusion surrounding Dick's bday being on December 1.

Also, I found this post by @theflyingwonder that helps clear up a LOT of the mess surrounding Dick's ever changing birth date. Honestly, amazing work and extra kudos to them for putting all the work in and finding all the sources. I just wished I had found their post earlier, holy shit.

And if you have some extra time, please give some love to @inkydandy for their hilarious and very sweet comic about all the confusion that comes with Dick's bday)

(Update ((8/25/23)): Many thanks to @poisoned-ivy for clearing up even more of the mess surrounding Dick's bday. I went ahead and took a screenshot of their response to my old "Which date is Dick's canon bday?" poll.

They also provided a link to the DC Universe Calendar which was lovingly compiled from the original 1976 Super DC Calendar and then put together by the people who run the Five Earths Project .

Also found out from them today that October 24 is one of Dick's bdays ((at least for Post-Crisis Dick Grayson)). So that was a fun new discovery!

They were also very helpful in helping me realize that the original article I had found that stated "sometime in April" was actually in reference to Dick Grayson's first appearance in the comics, which was April 1940.

So, yes, "sometime in April" is technically--again I hate this word so much now--still a valid candidate for Dick's bday. And before you ask: Detective Comics #38 was actually published on March 6, 1940.

Hence why people will cite March 6 as Dick's canon bday instead.

This project got a lot bigger than I ever expected it to ... god)

👑Barbara Gordon👑: September 23

👑Jason Todd👑: August 16

👑Cassandra Cain👑: January 26

👑Tim Drake👑: July 19

👑Stephanie Brown😮‍💨: She emerged from the void with the sole purpose of dragging Bruce's ass to hell and back. Nothing can stop her. We all exist in her world now.

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): June 23, "August," or August 11

(For real, though, some peeps will say June 23 since the month she officially debuted in the comics was June 1992.

But I've also seen August 1992 listed as her bday month as well--lot of August babies in the Batfam, huh--but I haven't found June 23 specifically listed as her canon bday, either. It honestly feels like the fans are putting in more work than DC at this point. Which, like, I'm not surprised. Just disappointed)

(Update ((8/24/23)): Someone mentioned August 11 as a potential birth date, but I have yet to see an actual source that specifically states this. If I do find one, I'll edit this section. Figured I should put it here just in case, though)

👑Duke Thomas👑: August 13

👑Damian Wayne👑: August 9

👑Terry McGinnis😮‍💨

Most popular: August 18

Other date(s): June 27 or August 10

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): September 19 (fml)

(Yes, I'm including Terry, fuck you lol

Also SERIOUSLY WTF is up with so many of these August birthdays!!!! Fuck, was everyone just getting crazy BUSY in November!!!! What's going on in the DC universe that is making November of all months the HORNY MONTH????!!!!)

(Mini update ((8/18/23)): Well, I just found out that apparently June 27th 2023 is also a highly debated birth date for Terry. As is August 10 2023/2024 and August 18 2023/2024. I even saw a mention of September 19 2023, but I don't know how credible that source actually is. I'm just putting it here because I'm losing my mind and I don't want someone to pop in and say I forgot it omfg I'm dying

I'm just ... why? Why is it so hard to just commit to one month and one date. I'm not even concerned about the exact year. Just commit to ONE, man.

Excuse me while I march over to DC HQ and burn the whole place to the ground iswtfg)

Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on any of these. I have a massive headache now and am open to any suggestions or clarifications y'all have to offer.

Also, I'm going to fist fight Dick in a Denny's parking lot.

Update (8/17/23): So a mini post that I meant to use as a way to vent how insane Dick was making me somehow blew up way more than I ever expected it to, and now I feel obligated to clarify again that I am open to any corrections and additional info that anyone has to offer.

I'm saying this because I've noticed people reblogging this post for actual Batfam bday references and someone already pointed out I fucked up Tim's bday and now I feel bad for everyone who reblogged this post prior to that edit.

It's probably just the anxiety talking, but yeah I just wanted to put that out there.

Also justice for Stephanie Brown! She deserves to have her own special day and if I have to bully DC into giving her a canon birthday, then you bet your ass I fucking will.

(And to all of y'all who are encouraging Dick to keep running his side scam business, I just have this to say: There's an empty Denny's parking lot somewhere out there just waiting for you, too lol)

[novemberheart]

{overview} John and Johnny leave……does Simon step up to the plate?

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141

Chapter 15 <- Chapter 16 -> Chapter 17

You had spent that whole night wrapped around Johnny, squeezing him like an anaconda.

“I’ll miss you a lot Mac,” you mumbled pitfully against his neck. It was time for him and John to leave, the sun not due to come up for another four hours.

“I’ll miss you too, peaches,” he murmured back, his grip on you crushing. “You'll be a good girl while we're away, yes?” He smiled against your head. John cleared his throat and you took the hint to untangle yourself. You kicked your legs a silent request to put you back on the ground. Johnny inhaled your scent, suddenly pressing kisses all over your face making you chuckle.

John held his arms out to you and he quickly lifted you up just like Johnny had done. His lips pressed firmly against your neck, vibrating against you as he spoke.

“We’ll call you when we can. When we can't we’ll make sure Laswell keeps you updated,” he assured.

“Be safe,” you whined, pressing yourself deeper into his shoulder. He held you there for a moment- this being harder than he had imagined.

“We’ll be back soon, pretty girl,” he pressed a kiss against your temple, pulling away to plant another one on your lips. He pulled away rather quickly, but you gripped his face pulling him back. “Now I really have to get back soon,” he chuckled, giving your temple one last peck.

They grabbed their bags by the front door, eyeing the three they were going to leave behind.

“Come on, lovie. Let's get you back to bed.” Kyle yawned, leading you to his room. You paused looking at Johnny's shut door. “We can sleep in there tonight. If you'd like,” Kyle offered softly, opening the door.

“He won't mind?” you asked hesitantly.

“You kidding me? Nothing would be better than comin’ home to a bed smellin’ like you,” Kyle smiled, clicking his tongue.

The next day was easier. You still had Kyle and Simon to rely on. Simon stepped up to double alpha duties, filling in for moments you usually shared with John. You were growing re-fond of Simon very fast. He was a complex creature. Grunting after you say something, only for him to pet the top of your head when he could tell you were in your thoughts too much.

Kate texted you that night.

Hi, love. The boys are fine. They just landed where they needed to be. They’ll try to call you later!

You smiled at the words. You missed them- but you weren't worried about them yet.

The next day was much harder. Knowing Kyle and Simon were leaving the next day.

“Simon?” you began softly. Simon had a mini zen garden in his office- a gag gift from Johnny. You enjoyed it though, making patterns in the sand. He grunted.

“I'm going to miss you while you're away, you know,” you said softly. You didn't expect him to say anything back, but you just had to tell him. The urge sitting under your skin like a ticking time bomb. If you didn't act on it you would throw yourself at him, gripping onto his shirt like your life depended.

“You’ll be fine, pup,” he assured. His voice was tender, making the ache in your chest deepen.

You don’t know if you're cut out for this.

“You’re with us because you’re tough,” He continued. “You’re a part of the pack, you need to act like it.”

You had never been one for tough love. However, when it came from Simon it eased you. Maybe it was his unwavering confidence or the fact that it showed he believed in you.

“Thank you, Simon,” you breathed.

“Remember what we talked about?” Simon questioned, while you clung to Kyle. You pulled your wet face from out under his chin, your bleary eyes staring up at the hulking man.

“Don’t answer the door unless I already have plans with someone. If there is something sketchy going on, hide in your bathroom and call the number on the sticky note on the bathroom mirror,” you repeated. Simon had turned his and John’s bathroom into a panic room in case something were to happen. You weren't sure if the idea soothed you or not. Regardless, it was a loving gesture. One that had the smell of a well-taken-care-of omega drifting off of you. It was quickly overshadowed by your bleak scent.

“And?”

“-and if I have a bad feeling about something I'm probably right,” you finished.

“Good girl.”

A kiss being pressed against the outside of your ear brought you back to the beta you still had your claws in.

“Kyky?” you hummed.

“Yes, lovie?” he hummed back, swaying the two of you back and forth. Simon made no move to rush either of you.

“Can I sleep in your bed while you're away?” you asked quietly. He agreed without missing a beat. It had helped the night Johnny left. A hand rested against Kyle's shoulder.

Time was up.

Kyle detached himself from you. You didn't help him in the process but you didn't keep your grip as tight. He moved to the door, grabbed his bag, and flung it over his shoulder.

“Bye, pup.” Simon sighed, grabbing his own bag off the floor.

“Bye, alpha.” The title didn't leave your lips without your consent. It was a sentiment, something to let Simon know you acknowledge the way he had stepped up for you while John was away. His body froze, a low rumble echoing in his chest. He turned around, his hand resting on the back of your head pulling you against his chest. He gave you one solid squeeze, pulling away before you could fully process or sink into him.

“Be good,” he commanded over his shoulder heading out the door. Kyle snuck one last hug in, before shutting the door behind him.

You were alone.

You couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn't any quieter than it usually was, yet the air was cold. The comfort stripped from it as soon as the door closed behind Kyle. You whined, pulling yourself out of Kyle's bed and making your way to Johnny's. You grabbed his speaker hoping some background noise would muffle the sound of the stale air. It had helped, the smell of Kyle’s neutral scent causing the pounding in your head to relax and combined with the scent of Johnny from the stuffed jellyfish he had bought you, you should be passed out by now.

It was too dark.

You huffed, uncovering yourself again, heading towards the kitchen, flicking the light on, and making your way back to Kyle's room. You kept the door open providing just enough light to where you could clearly see everything without any mistaken shadows.

You finally fell asleep.

The next day you had something planned with Anais. It was a ‘fitness club’ that met twice a week every week for two hours to futz around in the massive gym, without worrying about any cocky alphas or flirty betas. They had everything from trampolines to obstacle courses. You and Anais decided on the massive yoga balls.

“I feel horrible,” you whined, hitting the ground as the yoga ball shot out from under you.

“I would too after that.” Anais chuckled, still trying to find a safe space for her glasses. She looked so different without her eyes magnified. With her glasses, she was adorable, without them she was rather alluring. Her brown eyes became an elegant cat shape. “They’ll be back before you know it,” she soothed, trying to keep her balance.

“No, I mean I never asked about you. What do you do when Briggs isn't around,” you questioned.

“Stay with Jane,” she replied. “Sometimes they'll let you have a room in the medical center. You'll have to share with like six other omegas though. It's not too bad,” she smiled.

“If you ever need to stay with me you can,” you offered. She rolled over to you on her stomach, her hand reaching out for yours. You met her halfway, holding onto her arms.

“I mean this in the most respectful way. If I was around anyone in your pack for more than ten minutes I'm positive it would throw me into a heat,” she whispered, wiggling her brow. You laughed, pushing off of each other, both of you hitting the floor with a thud. “Seriously! How you haven't chewed a hole through any of them is beyond me.” She snickered, making you clutch your stomach.

“I've thought about it,” you sighed. “Especially Johnny’s arms,” you admitted, causing her to snort.

“Hey, ladies,” you both snapped your heads to the side at the new voice.

“Priya!” you cheered. It was the first time you had seen her since you'd met her.

“Mind if I sit?” she questioned, pointing to one of the other yoga balls.

“Of course. You remember Anais, right?” you introduced.

“Not that I can remember, no,” she said, making you and Anais quirk a brow.

“Oh! I usually wear glasses!” Anais chuckled, putting the thick frames back on her face. Priya's face lit up.

“Of course! I'm so sorry!” she chuckled.

Your mind had been completely taken off of the boys. The ache in your chest and the constantly looming cloud of doom vanished like it had never even been there. Until it was time to leave.

Anais’ alpha, Briggs, picked her up today and it was the first time you had ever seen him. He was handsome- a bit younger than you were expecting. His short blonde hair was neatly cropped, his green eyes shining when he saw her.

It reminded you of how Kyle looks at you.

“I've heard a lot about you,” he smiled, putting Anais down. There was a boyish charm about him. So different from the vibe your boys gave off.

“Good things?” you hummed. He chuckled, nodding his head.

“Good things,” he affirmed. “Me and Anais will walk you back to your place,”

“Are you sure? Me and Priya live in the same building. So we won’t be alone,” you explained.

“Your alpha made sure my girl got home. It's only fair I return the favor,” he insisted.

You couldn't argue with that. Briggs was a gentleman through and through. That reminded you of John. He was from South Africa and had been in the military for ten years. He was older than he looked. His trip here was supposed to be quick, but he got wrapped up in an ongoing case. He and Anais had been together for three years, and he offhandedly mentioned trying for kids which made Anais swat at him. It was the first time you had seen her flush.

“Thank you, for making sure we got home safe,” you thanked outside the tall gray building.

“Of course.”

You and Anais hugged and Priya said a thank you of her own before the two of you headed inside.

“Hey wanna do something tomorrow?” Priya asked in the elevator.

“Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind? We could go to the library? Or”-

“There’s a recreational room in the medical center. I think it is supposed to be used for patients who are there for a long time, but no one is ever in there when I go.”

A small alarm bell went off in your head. Medical was the last place you would want to go for a fun time. It was uncomfortably sterile and ghoulish. Yet Priya looked excited. Maybe you were just being dramatic.

“Sounds good,” you shrugged, as she stepped off the elevator at her floor.

“Great, see you then!”

You had already broken one of Simon's rules.

Hellooooo! 🧡 See you in two days for chapter 17! It’s another dramatic one….

Do we think Simon redeemed himself? Maybe just a little? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you for interacting with this post! 🧡

[thiefofgenders]

I was talking to a friend and found out this isn't normal for everyone to have so if you're one of the people who don't have an emergency hospital bag, this is your sign to start pulling one together. Hope you'll never need it but make it anyways because if you need it and you don't have one you'll kick yourself. It's designed so if you were suddenly rushed to hospital or had to go to A&E/ER then you or someone you know can just grab it and go. Trust me, it makes life so much easier when you have a bag in an allocated space that anyone can grab for you if you need it. All you need is a bag designed to be hand luggage on a plane. Everyone's is different and it's customisable to you but things I have in mine include:

A list of all my current medications and their dosages

A list of all diagnoses with the medications used for them noted since some medications have multiple uses

A list of any mobility or physical limitations due to disabilities or illnesses

A list of emergency contacts

A list of allergies and what happens when I come into contact with those allergens

My regular doctors and specialists information

A change of comfy clothes including two sets of underwear and socks

Pyjamas that are comfy enough to be in but not too revealing since it's a hospital

Dressing gown (if there's space - if not keep one close to the bag for convenience)

Wet wipes

Alcohol hand gel

Deodorant

Chewing gum

Travel sized toothpaste and toothbrush

Travel sized dry shampoo

Travel sized shampoo and conditioner

Travel sized shower gel

A small tube of hand cream

A small microfiber towel

A plastic bag to keep soiled clothes in

A book to read

A puzzle book with at least two pens/pencils

Headphones/ear plugs

A portable phone charger

Spare phone charger with plug

Small comfort items

Small stim items

An eye mask

A small fan

A bottle of water and some small snacks (no nuts!)

I really encourage everyone to build theirs and regularly check it and update it as needed. Even if you think you're the healthiest person in the world, you have no idea what tomorrow will bring and it's always better to be prepared than left floundering during an already stressful situation. Feel free to add on your own ideas for what people can put in theirs. My list is by no means complete and there's bound to be things I didn't think of

[misshugs]

Feverish || Sam Golbach x Reader

You start getting a really bad fever. the problem about it is not the fever itself, it's the horny feeling that you always seem to get whenever you're sick.

contains: fluff into SMUT +18, soft!Sam, sick!Reader, Sam caring for reader, oral (m), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, cuddles, no mention of Y/n

a/n: surprise update!

word count: 2k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Everything was moving. Your vision was playing tricks on you as you saw your ceiling moving around. You felt your body heavy, confused as to what was happening.

You can't remember the last time you got sick, even more so having this bad of a fever.

You felt cold, but your body was burning up.

It was around 3 in the evening and you haven't gotten out of bed yet, sweating all over your bed as your pants were the only thing you could think about. Hugging the sheets tightly as you felt yourself shivering.

Sam was supposed to come to your house today. He's been texting, trying to ask if you needed anything before he gets there, but to no use. You left your phone on the kitchen counter last night, and you felt too tired to try and look for it.

Not only tired, but turned on for some reason. Your body felt extremely needy and you were too delusional at the time to really think about anything else.

Minutes later, there was Sam at your door, knocking. Since you didn't respond, he decided to take the spare key you hid just in case. You didn't even notice the door opening when he suddenly asked your name.

Opening your eyes and looking at the door, you saw him hurriedly walking closer to you.

"Are you okay, baby?" He asked, touching your exposed shoulder from the oversize you wore to sleep. "You're burning up."

You softly blinked while looking at him, "Angel...?" You said, having some white dots blind your vision, making him look mystical in your eyes. You tried touching him. "You're an.. angel?" You touched his cheek, only for him to hold your hand down.

"Close, I'm your boyfriend." He smiled, kissing your warm hand. "Baby, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, looking around. "Where's your phone?"

"Dunno... C'mere." You tried to push him closer to you with the little to no strength you had. "Cuddles."

"Hold up, let me find you some medicine real quick." He said, walking away. You whine, wanting him close to you. Trying to reach out, you end up falling from the bed, now whining at the ache in your body.

He quickly turns back after hearing you. "Oh, god. Are you okay?? Did you get hurt?" Worry in his voice as he picks you up bridal style. You reassure him you were fine. "Be careful, okay?" He kisses your cheek and tries to set you back down on the bed, but you've trapped him now.

"No." You pout, holding him by the neck with your new found strength, not wanting to let go.

"Baby." He laughs at how clingy you suddenly got. He sighs, "Alright, c'mere." He positions your legs around his waist, holding you by the ass. You quickly adjust yourself, getting comfortable as you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him right.

He softly rubs your back while walking out of the room. Wasting no time, he quickly looks for some medicine and some clean towels to at least try and cool down your fever.

Even though your eyelids felt heavy, you made sure you were able to kiss his neck while he was doing whatever he was doing. It made him laugh at the touch.

"At least you seem to be having fun. You're sweating like crazy though..." He whispers, feeling the sweat drip down your back.

Looking back at the kitchen, he noticed it was extremely dry and clean. "Have you eaten anything?" He asks, knowing that you don't usually leave the kitchen this clean until it's the end of the day since, quoting yourself, 'why clean twice if you'll use them again'.

"No." You whispered, almost unnoticed due to your voice suddenly getting raspy, giving him shivers as your kisses on his neck keep on going. It seems to be keeping you sane from the world spinning so quickly.

"So I'm guessing you haven't gotten out of bed 'til now?" You hummmed. "I'll take that as a yes. Well then." He sighs and walks towards the counter, sitting you down. He softly takes your hands off his neck, making you open your eyes to look at him with a frown.

He laughs at the site, cupping your face and kissing your nose. "I'll be here, I'm going to make you something to eat, but first..." He grabs some pills and a cup of water. "Let's try and cool that fever down."

Without much arguing, you drink the pill down while you look at him cook for you. For a moment, your vision turned normal and you were gazing his way, almost hypnotized by him.

You just wanted to hug him, cuddle with him underneath the sheets while he caresses your hair. Being on top of him, straddling him while you were fast asleep on his chest.

He certainly understood the assignment, since he kept on giving you soft kisses and hugs while he was working on your quick meal.

Although you wanted nonstop touching, you were able to manage for the moment. Merely because you got lost in his figure.

Such a sweet boyfriend you had.

He knew you too well. The food he made was not much, but enough for you to be able to munch it down without problem, just in case you get too full and throw it all up.

He made sure to help you eat, passing a cold towel on your shoulders and face to try and cool you off in the meanwhile.

It did work for a short while.

After some food, you opened your arms towards him, expecting him to carry you back to bed, and so he did.

You don't quite know exactly what was it about your bed that made you feel this way, but as soon as you knew you were inside your room, the urge to merely cuddle changed to sexual desire. As if some aphrodisiac went into your system as soon as you saw him close to a bed.

You sighed on his neck at the feeling, making him shiver. Your dilated eyes being a dead giveaway of your vivid thoughts, not even mentioning your quickly damping panties.

As soon as he tried to lie you down on the bed, you held his face and kissed his lips. He smiled in between and kissed back. Since your legs were surrounding his hips, you moved him to the side, making him lie down next to you.

Hurriedly putting yourself on top of him, you began grinding on his lap, gaining a moan in the midst of the kiss. As you both separated, trying to regain your breath, he sighed your name.

"You look... so good." You panted, hearts in your eyes. "I wanna taste you, Sammy." Your hand was moving through his chest, slowly falling down to the top of his pants.

"S-sweetheart, you're sick... you're supposed to be resting." He said, trying to calm himself down, but his body telling the truth. You felt his rising boner underneath you.

"After..." You whispered, holding onto the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. "I want this..." You continued, releasing his quickly growing friend.

And who was he to protest in your needs? If it is something you believe might make you feel better, so be it.

He sighed when he felt your warm hand over his dick, slowly and painfully touching his tip. He groaned at the feeling, while your mouth was basically watering at his sounds and the look on his face.

You moved to the side, getting your face closer to his dick while your ass was on the air. Licking his tip, you saw his face. A mix of love and lust filled his panting face.

You loved it.

You didn't make him wait much, licking his length before your hand started moving up and down. Sucking onto his tip, you wasted no time and started bobbing your head up and down, slowly pushing it deeper and deeper into your throat.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back and putting the back of his hand infront of his lips, unable to close his mouth from the pleasure you were giving him. You kept sucking the tip every time you were on the edge of pulling out, it was driving him crazy.

He didn't last long, to say the least. His orgasm quickly reaching as you separated your mouth and started moving your hand faster, opening your mouth, waiting in anticipation.

Moaning, he came all over your face. Whatever got in your mouth you quickly gulped down, licking your lips while looking at his flustered stare.

"Sam." You sighed, giving a quick lick to his tip as you separated from it and crawled towards his face. Kissing and straddling him once again, he held onto your waist.

"You look so needy today, sweetheart." He smiled, grabbing your ass, pushing you down onto him once again, moaning as you feel his heat rubbing your clothed cunt.

"Fuck, Sam. Please..." You panted his name, shivering at the feeling. "I need you."

"Need me to help you, baby?" He said in a deep, romantic voice. You nodded prefusely at his comment.

It seems like a piece of your consciousness went missing for a second, since when you regained it, you had no clothes on. Sam's firm hands on your hips while he positioned himself in your pussy, knowing you were probably too needy for preparation.

In goes the tip, shortly followed by a slow thrust that made you whine, holding his shirt. He grunts for a moment.

"You okay, babe?" He caresses your ass, feeling you quickly tense up, choking his tip with your tightness. You nodded, trying to relax your muscles.

"Keep... going." You sighed, while he peppered your face with kisses. He moved your ass down with caution to not hurt you, slowly. Tempting.

When you were all settled, it took you a few moments to completely relax. As you felt more comfortable, you started moving your hips, letting him know he could move.

Taking notice of your actions, he helped you out. It didn't take long for him to start thrusting quickly inside of you, listening to your moans, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

He switched positions, putting you underneath and lifting one of your legs on top of his shoulders. Hitting those spots he couldn't before, you felt bliss. Your eyes rolled back while you arched your back.

While he went back to your warm, sweaty neck to leave some hickeys, you hugged him. Grabbing his shirt and clawing his back on accident, you surely left some marks to look at later.

You were on de edge of climax, twitching at the knot in your stomach forming up, whimpering. "Fuck, Sam, I'm... I'm coming." Hearing those soft, sexy sounds come out of your mouth, he could've easily cum right there.

"Come for me, baby." He whispered in your ear, speeding up his thrusts. After you moaned loudly and came all over his dick, he gave a few more thrusts before pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.

Trying to regain your breath, he kissed your lips softly. Standing up, he went to the bathroom and came back with a clean towel to wipe you clean, kissing softly some random parts of your body while he's at it.

You yawned, noticeably exhausted after the session. He smiled at you, fixing you up before lying down next to you and holding you protectively in his arms. "Now we can cuddle." He said.

You hugged back, remembering that other urge that you had before, and successfully taking advantage of the situation you put yourself in. It felt good to be in his arms, even more so when his soft pats on your head seemed so dreamy and kind. The kisses on your forehead making it even better.

A few hours of cuddling later, you felt much more better. In fact, you felt better than most days after you sweat off all of that fever up and took a small nap, and it was all thanks to the best boyfriend ever.

"Are you okay, love?" You asked after he stood up from the bed but stopped moving.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy." He chuckled. You stood up to touch his forehead, thinking of the possibility.

"...you're burning up." Unfortunately, your suspicion was right. You accidentally gave him a fever.

The question is...

Is he the same as you when you get sick?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

fun fact there was a time where i actually got a horrible fever but i got so clingy and cuddly with everyone around me, so this is based on a true story LMAO (without the hot, sexy boyfriend unfortunately)

-nikkõ

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.14

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Ch. Notes: Angst, action, gun violence, character death

Summary: Things quickly escalate as Fisk tries to end the struggle for power once abd for all.

An: ... So it's been a minute. Sorry about that and frankly idk when the next update will be, hopefully sooner. However, whatever you thinks going to happen here, I don't think you'll see this coming.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk didn’t often smile. He was a sad and angry man that did his best to keep a neutral scowl on his face. What was there to smile about when he had lost everything. His wife, his daughter, his freedom, all irreplaceable. Being in prison while his wife and daughter were being buried is an ache that will never truly get over.

The void inside of him can only be filled by power and control. He will have the city and he will claim it for all that he has lost. He knew that to be a irrefutable fact.

Now, his smile was something straight out of a nightmare. It sat lopsided on his round face. It was there and it was horrifying. His smile only widens as he heard hushed voice over his phone.

When the line goes dead, he claps his hands together. He leans back in his desk chair. The smile doesn’t leave his features.

“Sleeping beauty has opened his eyes.”

Plans change at a wits notice, and things pivot, but goals could still be accomplished. Fisk wants Dragos gone and like a shark surrounding an injured surfer he smells blood in the water. It is time for him to strike.

Bowling was the activity that you came up with. Something in a place full of people, something that you enjoyed much in your youth, something that Pietro was unequivocally skilled at.

“Another strike ladies are you even trying?” Pietro gloats after looking at the scoreboard.

You might’ve been putting in a decent amount of effort, Wanda as well, but the two of you could tell Natasha was handing the man the win.

“Natasha, maybe take him down a peg,” you whisper in her ear.

“I thought we were supposed to be cheering him up, lisichka,” she taunts you with a smile.

“He can be happy without his ego being stroked,” Wanda puffs out in annoyance.

Natasha laughs at their bitterness, but nonetheless when it was her turn she quickly bowled a strike.

“Let’s go Natty,” you clap for her and Wanda let’s out a whistle.

“Is this where I realize you've been letting me win all night,” Pietro pouts.

Nat plops her hand on his shoulder, “I’m afraid so."

You all share a laugh and for moment everything feels normal. You could almost forget your ties and affiliations and feel like normal people. The moments were becoming more present in your life to the domestic nature of your relationship with Wanda and Natasha.

By now you should’ve known that sitting in any of those feelings did you no good.

When your phone rings you answer it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n you will get through this. Do not let this be the end of what we’ve worked for, you don’t- you don’t need me malysh.”

“Papa? You’re awake, what are you you-”

“Y/N! Listen please, just take care of our family. I called you because, I trust you.”

As he speaks on the phone you gather Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha urgently. You have to go, it’s urgent. They can tell you’re shaken and when you put the phone on speaker they understand.

“Papa I don’t understand,” your voice trembles as you speak.

“Tell Flora, that my love with her doesn’t end with my last breath. Tell my Pietro that he’s the heart of all of this. Tell Wanda that all I want from her is for her to be happy.”

Natasha is the one that ushers you all into the car as you begin to shut down slightly.

“You can’t do this to us again papa,” your voice cracks in the end.

“It’s out of my hands,” you can hear fear in his voice and it terrifies you.

You hear a dark chuckle in the background of the call, “He’s right you know, it’s not in his hands.”

The smile in Fisk’s voice is present and it scares you, but you bluff the man.

“Haven’t you already made this play before, and it didn't work out for you did it?”

“Only because you interfered, and I got you back pretty significantly for that didn't I, sweetheart?”

Your jaw clenches, “Fisk , take a moment to think, really think what you're about to do. We are already enemies, in competition for control of the city, but that’s just business. Every move you’ve made recently has been personal. Going to war over turf it’s respectable, but if we go to war over family, there’s only one way this ends.”

“This is why I enjoy you so much kid, you have such an intelligent mind. Even under pressure you string together the right words. However, you’ve got it all wrong. There’s always only been one way this is going to end,” you hear the sound of the gun clicking.

“We will leave the city, just don't shoot him,” Pietro finds his voice.

You, Wanda, and Natasha look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I didn't know we had guests on the phone with us, what a surprise. Keep talking little Maximoff, I like what you're offering.”

Pietro begins spewing nonsense, “We will disappear from New York and never come back. We will cut all ties with city and anything in it. It will be yours for the taking. Please, just don’t shoot him.”

“Anyone else want to beg for his life?”

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes a few times as her eyes water. You take the initiative instead.

“Wilson, you lost your family. Your wife and daughter were taken from you. Good people caught in the crossfire of your criminal actions. Who helped you get back on your feet after you got out of jail ? Who kept a corner of New York for you? Who gave you a jump start on your way back to this lifestyle? Who was there for you? The history between the two of you isn’t as convoluted as you’re making it out to be.”

Kingpin takes a pause, “That’s in the past.”

“It’s only history because you are making it that way. We have made a good relationship between our businesses until recently,” you keep him on the phone.

Natasha’s only about 5 minutes from the hospital, you just need to stall a bit longer.

“I’m not a beggar or a dog, Y/Ln. I don’t take scraps,” he says in a menacing tone.

You pause when he says your last name. It’s not something you hear regularly, you don’t ever use it. How’d he know about it?

“Quiet now Y/Ln, surprised I know that name? That’s not the only thing I know about you sweetheart. I know something that the Maximoff’s have been hiding from you, something that might sway your loyalty."

You look at Wanda and Pietro who were already on edge, but worse than that, they avoid your gaze.

“This is my family, my loyalty won’t ever change,” you speak strongly.

He chuckles, “Not even when I tell you they killed your mother.”

“What?”

“They killed your mother. Ever wonder, why she didn’t come after you, why she didn’t bombard or harass you after you left? She was dead within a week. Your father was debriefed, and relocated shortly after your graduation. These people sweetheart, before your family, they’re the mob.”

You’re in front of the hospital now, but you don’t move to exit the car. It feels like something has pierced through your heart.

You want to say something to combat him, to say it doesn’t matter, but you couldn’t say that earnestly.

You push your feelings aside for a second, “We’ve both lost a lot, Fisk. Things that we can’t get back. Things that fuel us to want more than what the world has offered us.”

“We’re alike in that way sweetheart, robbed of a happy ending. Forced to create our own,” he’s trying to flip you but you aren't buying it.

“Losing another parental figure in my life isn't a happy ending for me,” you grit your teeth.

Natasha pulls you out of the car and starts giving hand signal directions.

“I sympathize with you, Y/n. You’re not one of them, you never were. I’ll tell you what, the Maximoff’s leave, but you stay and work for me. That’s my offer.”

“We aren't leaving without Y/n,” Wanda finds her words for the first time in the conversation.

“It’s either that or I put a bullet in his head. You’ve got 15 minutes to think it over, when I call back you better have an answer,” he hangs up.

“Y/n,” Pietro starts, but you don't look at him.

“We’ve got 15 minutes to save Dragos, that's what I'm focused on,” you dismiss his attempt at an explanation.

Natasha begins laying out a plan, “ We don’t know who in this building reports to Fisk, so we have to be careful if we go in. Dragos is supposed to have security at his door, I don't think the guards there would be ours if Fisk is in the room.”

“We need a deliberate distraction,” you open the car door and reach into your bag.

You bring out your laptop and hook your phone to it. You knew what room Dragos was in with Fisk’s call you should be able to ping how many devices were around him.

“3 guards, outside the rooms. These are the phone numbers, names, home addresses, close family,” you memorize the information.

You see a group walking into the hospital and figure its your best chance to blend in, “We’ve got to go now.”

Wanda and Natasha hold frustration about the way you’re moving, but they follow you nonetheless.

“We don’t have a plan for this,” Wanda argues.

“Blend in get to the floor they’re on and then I’ll handle the guards. Once they’re dealt with Natasha will go in and disarm Fisk,” you say straying from the group you walked in with to another group heading for the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator you speak to Natasha, “Send people to these addresses make sure they get pictures, the quickest means please.”

When you step off the elevator you spot the guards. You send them individual text messages, with their names addresses and a threat to their loved ones by name.

You see 2 of 3 panic while the other one believes it’s a bluff. Natasha sends the pictures of their homes to you, and you forward them to the guards.

You see them pale instantly, the look at each other and bicker lightly. Wanda wants to go forward and strike, but you shake your head. You wait as one of the guards takes off running from the room. The other follows not even a second after. The third looks at his phone and then in the direction the others had ran before doing the same as they did.

“Natasha, we’ll be on the other side of the door one steady knock when he’s disarmed so we can get in,” you instruct her.

She doesn’t hesitate to nod at your orders. Before she goes Wanda squeezes her hand in a pleading manner, but Natasha reassures her with a soft look.

You wait with baited breath when Natasha enters the room. For a moment it’s silent, no struggle can be heard, but then there’s a gunshot.

Wanda’s the first one rushing to the room door, with Pietro and yourself directly behind her. Her hand is on the handle as she attempts to yank the door open. You move her out of the way, and open it first.

Instead of a cool metal, you feel a searing hot metal burning your chest.

“Why don’t you all file in, so we can talk,” Kingpin rests the gun on your chest and you shuffle into the room, eyes shooting across to where Natasha grips her bloody arm.

Wanda and Pietro shuffle in, the red head immediately going to her wife’s side.

“Isn’t this a lovely little family affair?”

“Wilson, take the gun off of her. Your problem is with me, my family, they’ve done nothing wrong,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

He digs the butt of the recently fired gun further into your chest and you grit your teeth, but refuse to break eye contact with the bald man.

“She is your strongest solider Dragos, she can take it. Y/n’s not even your blood, she’s your orphan project and you’ve raised her better than your incompetent children. She’s quick witted, brilliant, useful. I want her on my side,” Fisk eyes you with a shark like grin on his face.

“You’re out numbered,” Pietro reminds the man as he stands tall in room.

Fisk scoffs, “ Bed ridden patient, shot Russian, and girl with her gun to her chest. You and your sister aren’t enough to stop me, you could barely even run the business when I took your father out. None of the Maximoff’s have been running anything as of late. It’s all been Y/n, even before Wanda came back. She’s been the brains of this whole operation for a while now.”

“If you feel that way, then why would you go after Dragos first and not me?”

Fisk chuckles, “This information isn't something I've always known. I only had this epiphany a small time before I had an example made out of you.”

“I’ll never work for you,” you stand your ground.

“Then I’ll drop you where you stand and then I'll kill everyone in this room and own this cit-”

The gun was in your hand before he finished the sentence. You place it under his chin before cocking it back.

“Do it, kill me then sweetheart. This wouldn’t be your first time killing someone who just wanted to help you right? Poor little Lucas, didn’t even get the chance to grow up.”

You pull the trigger and instantly your face is covered in the mans blood. No one in the room saw it coming. You were usually better at not acting irrationally, but this time you had met your limit.

The gun drops from your hand and you rush out of the hospital without a single clue to where you were going.

“Go, someone go after her,” Dragos yells at his children and soon Wanda is on her feet.

“I will take care of it go,” Natasha reassures her.

Wanda’s eyes linger on her wife’s injured arm, “Wanda now.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[covetyou]

egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin and you look expectantly up at him. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, no trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings burst open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was, and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

next part

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