the old man and the sea- a joel miller x reader fic
summary: grief is a sacred thing, a nasty thing, a sensual thing. it grips you from the inside until there's nothing left but a void of darkness- a void that can never be filled. joel miller knows this fact very well, and all he wants to do is save you.
warnings: girthed up age gap (college age!reader x 50’s age joel), i’m exploring a new type of writing ok let me COOK!!!! idk i am delusional, reader has hair that at least reaches her neck, cigarette use, this whole thing is basically an allegory for grief and growing but there also a lot of sexy smut soooo yeah. (mentions of death and two brief mentions of suicide, but nothing too detailed.) that being said, smut (f receiving oral sex, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected piv sex, some 'dirty' talk, etc.)
note: this has NOT been proofread or edited. any mistakes are mine. i just hate going back and editing lmao. enjoy! xx
In the august days of your youth, when the rocky line of the coast line glimmered beneath the flame of the sun, when the foamy waves would pool by your sandy feet, you could remember the towering lighthouse just south of the beach, the way it stood tall and proud, like the statues of Roman soldiers you knew from your school encyclopedias. It was vibrant and alive, no more dead than the clams bubbling beneath the surface of the ocean, no more dead than the bellowing of the whales far off the shore.
You remember how it would speak to you, late at night when you would walk alone, hoping to catch the light reflecting off the tail of a pretty mermaid, hoping that the local legends of talking fish would come poke their heads above the water, speaking to you in riddles from days gone by.
You remember the words of the light which shone strong from above, circling above your head , like the passing lights of a traveling carnival, your eyes caught like a moth roaming towards the flames, lost in the eternal beauty of its golden light.
Come to me, child. Let the lighthouse unburden your pain.
But back then, when you were quick to scare despite your steadfast stubbornness, you never garnered enough courage to explore behind its walls.
Now college had passed, and you moved back home to your parent's rickety beach house, alone behind her comforting wooden exterior. This home. This home that was once so full of life. This home that held warm laughter and late night board games. This home that housed your closest friends and their secrets of crushes and undeciphered dreams. This home where you grew into a young woman full of life and beauty, clever and brilliant.
This home that was now empty.
You had got the call the week after finals.
We're so sorry, they went out fishing and a storm came. We never found them.
Oh, yes.
Adventure pumped through your veins, the taste for freedom like salty water on your tongue. You knew where you got it from, you always had. Your sweet family, your loving parents. Full of life like that lighthouse, full of of love like the sun.
Now they were nothing, and this house was nothing. Those years of laughter and secrets and adventure were nothing.
Nothing.
Your favorite word these days.
Going through belongings and shuffling through old books had taken almost a weeks worth of tears. Hot, tepid, angry tears.
How dare they leave you alone? How dare they forsake you like this?
The thought of crashing water and striking lightning was almost too much to bare.
When the storm had rolled in that morning, you had been tucked away in the alcove of your kitchen, nursing a steaming mug that was more cream than coffee. You watched the droplets of rain paint pictures on the window, you watched nature wring her tears across the fluttering branches of trees, cracking soft splashes across the pavement with each gust of air. Your chest felt heavy with thoughts of them.
Mom and dad.
Mamma and papa.
Perhaps it was in hopes you would feel some comfort, perhaps it was in hopes you would feel whole. If you could just stare out at the ocean that took them, maybe they would speak to you. Maybe those fairytale fish would poke their heads up from the water and exclaim to you how happy your parents were, how they were fitting right in, how they had invited Mrs. Dolphin over for tea last Saturday, and how they were finally warming up to the funny shark that always lurked in the seaweed.
You stood barefoot on the cragged rock, staring out at the roaring waves, with nothing but the lull of distant seagulls and the song of incoming thunder.
No fish. No parents. No Mrs. Dolphin. Just another season of storms and a crater in your heart.
Your throat was raw from all the screaming. You danced to your fight song as you let the rain take you, your clothes felt like skin from how soaked through they were. Heavy drapes of fabric that cemented you in place on that cragged rock. That cragged rock that dripped with the blood of your raw heels, your toes scraped and ruined from the sandy surface.
It was dark by the time the storm rolled out, dark by the time your back found the safety of the sand, dark by the time your hair clung to your neck and became tangled up with the seashells.
There was a glowing orb of light far off in the distance that you could just make out through the hazy fog of your eyelashes, and you realized it was growing closer, the old handle of a lantern creaking through the night.
"Hello?" The voice was rough and unknown to your ears, yet held a certain warmth despite the weariness.
"Yes?" You asked softly, refusing to open your eyes. If you opened your eyes, all of this was real, all of this was raw, all of this was right there.
"Are you.... okay?"
"Yes."
The lantern creaked once more, and you heard the shuffle of fabric as the man leaned forward, pressing his knuckles to your cheek. "You're colder than a reindeer's antlers, girl." His touch was warm, his hand a welcome solace from the rain. "You live around here?"
You didn't want to go back to that house. You didn't want to smell their detergent or see their old clothes. You didn't want to waltz through that kitchen or hear the creak of those old stairs.
Perhaps it was from the way your lip quivered, from the rain or from the cold, perhaps it was from the defeat in your voice, or the weightlessness of your soul, but the man before you knew he had to do something about it. How could he not? You were laying there like a pile of unfolded laundry, and no one else was around to fold it all.
You felt an arm slip behind your back.
"C'mon, stand up with me. On three."
You groaned softly, using a thick arm as leverage as the mystery man helped you stand off the ground. When you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of umber orbs staring at you, tracing over your face, every line, scar, freckle, dent, he was soaking you in like a sponge, as though he wanted to know your face just from memory.
"I'm Joel."
Joel.
He was handsome, that was the first thing you noticed about him. You felt your stomach churn at the feeling, angry you could find him so beautiful, despite the darkness which shrouded over you. Joel was broad and rugged, no doubt rough around the edges. He was adorned with various scars and random freckles, with thick eyebrows and broad shoulders, plush lips and kind eyes- hardened by time, no doubt, but beautiful all the same.
You know you mumbled your name out somewhere along the walk, eyes cloudy with tears. It was a miracle you managed to speak anything at all.
As you neared the lighthouse, you realized just how foreboding it truly was. Its paint was cracking, yet its foundation remained firm, and it towered up into the clouds like a Medieval castle. Behind it's white structure you saw a small cabin, warm light seeping through the misty windows, painting the green grass with splatters of sunshine.
When Joel opened the door, an old dog sitting in front of the fireplace lifted his head, the soft thump of a tail beating against the wooden floors. His fur was gray and his eyes were old, his long fur a mixture of brown, black, and white patches. Like a makeshift quilt.
Quilts. Your mother used to make those.
"That's Moby." Joel explained, setting a kettle on the old gas stove. "Sit down. You're trailing blood." You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, and he must have noticed the way your eyes darted with shame. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Let me fix up your cuts. I-.... I wasn't trying to be a dick." He spoke like this was his first time having human interaction in a decade, and by the way he moved, you might have been right.
He fumbled through drawers and cabinets, eventually finding a metal first aid kit that had begun resting at the edges years ago. Joel pulled up a dining room chair in front of you with a loud screech, peering up at you as he shuffled through the remnants of the kit.
"What were you doing out there?" He asked, gently grabbing your ankle. He guided it to his lap, inspecting the raw flesh of your soles.
"Exploring."
"Exploring what?"
"Myself."
You felt his shoulders jerk with a bit of a laugh. Normally, you would not have gone home with a stranger. Normally, you would not have let a random man place your legs on his lap or nurse you up.
But then again, nothing was normal anymore. Normal was home. Normal was family. Normal was homecooked meals and late night board games and sleepovers and secrets and.... well, none of this.
The hot stream of tears threatened the dam that rest just above your waterline. Joel noticed, but he didn't say anything.
His calloused thumb rested on the side of your foot, the sting of alcohol soaked pads causing you to wince.
"I know." He muttered through an unlit cigarette which dangled from his mouth, the lines of his forehead prominent with each movement he made. "There we go. Right one's done. Let me see the left."
You obeyed wordlessly, gently propping it up onto his thigh. He repeated his previous work until that foot was cleaned and patched.
Joel stared at you. The tea kettle behind him was whistling for attention, its top sputtering from the roaring boil of water.
"Earl gray or green?" He asked as he rummaged for two cups, blowing the dust off of one. You watched Joel stare at one of the cups for a beat too long.
"Earl gray." You croaked, blinking hard. You felt wetness by your hand. When you looked down, the black nose of a dog was pressing into your palm. Your fingers found his fur, rubbing that spot right behind his ear that made his back leg go crazy. Who couldn't smile at that?
Moby laid down, his fur a puddle at the base of your chair as he rested his snout atop your foot. You stared at him, welcoming the softness of his body against yours.
"Moby is a sweet dog. He's old. Rarely gets up from that bed." Joel explained, handing you a cup. The words World's Best Dad were fading at the sides. This cup must have been older than you.
"I like him." You let the liquid glide down your throat with each sip, savoring the warmth it provided you. At the first sign of a shiver, Joel had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.
"Why are you being so kind to me? You don't even know me."
Joel sat back down across from you with a soft groan, the ache in his bones creaking like an old, rusting elevator shaft. "I do know you."
"Have we met before?" Your eyebrow raised with interest, and you looked at him wearily, trying to deduce what he was up to.
"No. But I know what grieving looks like." There was a long pause before Joel decided to speak again. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"
"What? No!" You guffawed, neck snapping up to shoot him a scowl. "Of course not."
"Look. If you walked up on a half dead, soaking wet person on the shore, during the aftermath of a storm, you'd be thinking the same thing." He defended himself sternly, setting his cup down.
There was a thick moment of quietness.
"Those were your parents, weren't they?" His voice was barely a whisper. It floated through the air like smoke off a candle, hitting you in the face.
"Yes."
"It was all over the news. Loads of us went out there, tried to find them."
"They're out there somewhere. Fish food." Your voice was bitter.
Joel didn't say anything. He just sat and stared. You stared back.
It became a ritual after that night. You were over there every evening, usually with a paper bag full of groceries and treats for Moby. You taught Joel how to make Paprikash and Japchae, you taught Moby how to fist bump with his nose (old dogs can learn new tricks), and you taught yourself how to laugh again.
Laughing. Such an odd thing to do in the aftermath of grief. Such a weird feeling to allow ones self to feel after weeks of chaos.
And Joel, he had his uses too.
Joel taught you how to do a fishtail braid, he taught you how to use a fly rod, and what the inside of a lighthouse looks like. Joel taught you how to smile again, he taught you what the feeling of freedom felt like once more.
Summer faded into autumn, and the orange and yellow trees began to paint the prettiest of pictures on the canvas of the coast. It held a certain nostalgia that summer had always failed to do for you, and the promise of apple cider and pumpkin scented candles floated through with every passing day.
It had taken some convincing, but Joel had swayed in to your demands, and you both sat at a tiny table in a tiny cafe, the steaming pumpkin latte swirling between his hands.
"So?"
He stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It's.... not half bad."
"Well, well, well. Looks like I was right. I knew you'd like it." You smiled through your victory, drinking your own iced coffee.
"I haven't been here in years." Joel explained, looking around at the decorations. Local art, framed photographs, and signed albums adorned the exposed brick walls, the glowing salt lamps on each table bathing the air with warm, orange light.
"You've been here before?" This coffee shop was old, you knew that much, but even when you were younger and frequented its counter with your high school friends, you can't remember ever seeing him here. And this was a small town- you knew you would have remembered his face, despite the wrinkles and grays. He still would have been Joel.
"Over two decades ago. Sarah loved this place."
"Sarah?"
His upper lip twitched at the sound of her name. Joel looked at you with heavy eyes, glossed over with the mark of grief. The kind of grief that settles in to your body as though it's its home, the kind of grief that sits beside you on the couch and never leaves. The kind of grief you were learning to grow beside.
"My daughter."
The air hung above your heads like a rainy cloud, thick and desultory. It fell across your shoulders like a fur coat, and you struggled to shake it all away.
"I didn't know that you..." Words were useless. They always were when it came to matters like this.
Joel drank his coffee in silence, tracing the ridges of the wooden table out with his eyes. "Don't like talking about her."
"We don't have to."
"Yes, we do." His voice was stern as he looked up at you, your gaze connecting. Joel's eyes were far away, searching for something in the recesses of his memory, or perhaps gaining the courage to speak to you.
"I've been alone for over twenty years." His voice was softer than you had ever remembered it being. "And then.... you were there. Just there. Laid out on the shore like a beached mermaid, shivering in the moonlight. I didn't know you... but I knew you. You were me in that moment. I had been you."
Your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and you watched as he spoke. There was a subtle shake to Joel's hands as he picked at his thumb nail, a tick you had picked up on the first week you had known him. The bouncing of his knee vibrated through the table.
"I know what grief is. I know the stain it leaves on someone's face. It was all over you.. just-just dripping."
You hadn't noticed the tears welling in your eyes.
Joel reached over, his palm engulfing your cold hand like a blanket, warming your skin up with his touch. He laced your fingers tight in to his own, cradling your palms close between his two hands.
"I know what all this does to a person. How it rots, how.... how it erodes. I knew I needed to help you."
"What's why you took me back to your house."
"Yes. That's why I bandaged you up, that why I made you tea, that's why I let you keep coming back. Because I wanted to help you, because I lov-"
"Are we doing okay over here?" A barista walked up with a smile, a tray in hand. "I'm just going to take these empty cups away! It's such a beautiful day outside."
You managed to shoot her a smile.
As she walked away, Joel continued staring at you, and there was a sense of something..... else in his eyes.
"Lets go back home? To- well, uh, to my home."
You nodded silently, letting go of his hands as you both walked out the door.
There was something unspoken between Joel and you, and it had settled between the two of you over the months. You knew that he knew, and Joel knew that you knew, yet it was never brought up, it was never allowed to spoken out loud. If it was spoken out loud, then it became real, and if it became real, then it would end up being a burden. Or a promise. Or a nightmare. Or a dream. Or a beautiful, welcoming, loving thing that lasted until the day you died.
How terrifying was that?
You don't know when you had started holding Joel's hand, but the walk back to the lighthouse was quiet and chilly.
Because I lo-
His words echoed through your skull with every single step you took along the cobbled path.
Lo, lo, lo, lo. Love? Loathe? Long? Look?
Your chest compressed against itself as your thoughts wandered. You must have been squeezing Joel's hand too hard, or your nails must have been digging into his skin too deeply, because he stopped and looked at you.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.
"I- um. Huh?"
"You're practically making me bleed with those nails of yours. Are you okay? Thinking about something?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered sheepishly, gently recoiling your hand away. Joel stopped you, placing it back in the grasp of his own. "I just... what were you going to say to me?"
"Hmm? Say to you?"
"Back at the coffee shop?"
"Oh." Joel shuffled his weight between both of his feet, his eyes shifting to meet yours. His warm, gentle, dark eyes. Those honeyed orbs of warmth that you had grown to love so deeply. Love? Oh, yes. You were certain it was love.
What part of Joel Miller didn't you love? He had rescued you from much more than that shore on that fateful night. Fate. Hell of a thing, that.
Joel squeezed his eyes shut. It was like ripping off a band-aid. When he spoke, he opened them once more, allowing his words to drip off his tongue. They were soft, gentle, they swayed through the tresses of your hair like a breeze through a field of flowers.
"I love you."
And there it was.
Time must have stopped. Your ears rang with silence, the weight of the universe funneling and funneling, closer and closer to your head until there was nothing. No noise. No air. No nothing.
Joel stared at you with a blank expression on his face, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said.
"I shouldn't have... that was- I'm sorry."
You took a step towards him, his hand was still wrapped around your own. You felt the subtle sheen of sweat on his palm, you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue from biting your cheek too hard, too deep, too long.
You knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east, you knew it with every vein in your body, with every hair on your head. You loved him, too.
Oh you did, didn't you? What a fool you were for him. If he told you to jump, you would jump. If he told you to run away with him, you would ask where. Joel Miller had bewitched you, every ounce of you, and you couldn't bare the thought of leaving him, or forgetting him, or even worse- never meeting him.
Some brave rush of courage overtook you, and before you could think you had grabbed his face in your hands and pressed your mouth into his own, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of your movement. Joel's hands instinctively grabbed your waist, and his back found the support of a stop sign. The tips of his fingers gently dug into your waist, and he held you close and tight to his chest. You could feel the beating of his heart against his torso, pumping and pumping and pumping its vibrations into your own chest, ricocheting through your body as you tasted him on your tongue.
You pulled away only when your cheeks ached, burying your face in to his chest, allowing the smell of Joel to overcome you. He always smelled like the sea air and cotton, sweet and nostalgic against your nose.
"Lets get home." He whispered in your ear.
Home. He hadn't corrected himself. Home.
Joel's fingers refused to leave yours, locked tight as you made it to his house. Moby greeted you with a kiss to the knee, waddling back to his bed with a heavy huff of air. You gave him the bone you always picked up for him on the way there, before turning around to see Joel in the kitchen, a cigarette in his mouth.
"Want one?" He asked as he brought the lighter to his mouth. You walked towards him, nodding. He took the item out of his mouth, before placing it between your own two lips.
Joel watched the way you took the cigarette, the way your glossy lips looked against the white sheen of paper.
"You're so damn beautiful. God, I just..." Joel shook his head as he kept his thoughts to himself, lighting another smoke before tossing the half empty pack on to the table.
"You just what?" Your voice echoed through the bellow of smoke, and you leaned against the counter, challenging him with your words.
"I just... got so many things I want to do to you."
You smiled, alluring eyes beaming up at him as you puffed and exhaled, slowly putting out the embers on the clay ashtray you had bought him months ago. "Like what?" Your words were teasing.
Joel watched you step towards him, and his chest rose and fell underneath the unlit kitchen light. He took in a deep breath of tobacco before flicking it in to the metal sink.
He'd deal with that later.
"How 'bout I just show you, baby?"
Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded.
Joel had never moved so fast in his life, whisking you off to his room with a loud bang of his door. He had you nearly naked and on his bed in record time, his knee resting between your legs as he kissed you, the hair of his moustache tickling your nose.
He allowed you to grind yourself down on his leg, soft moans flooding in to his mouth as his tongue explored your own, tangling and dancing with one another as his fingers worked the back of your bra. Joel threw the material across the room, your breasts pressing in to his chest, nipples hard and tantalizing.
That was the first time Joel had pulled away. He left a trail of wet kisses down to your nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud. You watched him suckle at your flesh, shivers causing the hair on your arms to stand up. His curls became tangled with your fingers, a leg resting on his shoulder as he adjusted himself, sucking and licking at your tits as though he were starved.
Your sweet melody of arousal was like music to Joel, who finally gathered the strength to pull away from your chest and move down between your legs, his mouth planting a flurry of pecks to your stomach. He hooked your panties in his fingers and tugged them off, large hands resting on your thigh as he spread them.
Joel stared at your pussy, now open and bare for his eyes. It glistened with arousal, the soft pink of your flesh causing his mouth to water.
"Jesus." He breathed out slowly, eyes darting up to your gaze. "You were made just for me, weren't you?"
You felt your cheeks heat up. You were. Oh, God, you were!
His free hand snaked up to yours, and you held it tightly, nervously. His hand was your anchor, tethering you to the ocean floor of his bedroom.
Joel leaned forward, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. You whimpered out once. He sucked it in between his lips. You whimpered out twice. He worked your aching bud until you were singing a song composed just for him, pants of hot, heavy air swirling through the four walls of his room.
He was devouring you. You were his Eucharist and your pussy was his prayer. Joel worked you in ways you had never been worked before, licking and sucking your pussy with the fervor that could only ever be found in a religion. You were his religion. His idol. His worship. His solace.
Oh, solace. What a sweet, sweet thing when it was found in you.
Joel's chin was quickly soaked in your sweet wetness. He would have drowned in you if you had let him.
His tongue pushed deep in to your folds, exploring your most precious pf places, tasting every inch of you like a starved man, like a frenzied man, like a mad man.
You were his. He was yours.
Your hips were bucking, your body like a wild animal caught in a trap. Except you weren't in a trap. You were in his arms. His strong, thick, heavy arms, and ecstasy was overtaking you. His tongue was coaxing you towards an explosive orgasm, the likes of which had never been known to you. Not one so intense. Not one at the hands of a man who loved you.
Joel's grip tightened around your own, his lips sucking at your clit, tongue tapping and swirling, licking and lapping.
You could barely get any warning out before your orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking with earthquakes of pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, holding his head tight in place. Joel licked you through the height of your euphoria, sucking softly at your bud before you could barely take it anymore, before you had to gently push his head away.
"Joel." You whispered, staring at the ceiling as the white hot heat of your climax rushed over you. "Joel." You spoke it like a mantra. His name was a promise to you.
"Baby?" He climbed over you, weight supported by his elbows, and allowed the tip of his nose to gently brush over yours.
"Take me." You whispered, the palms of your hand moving to his cheeks. They were warm, and you could smell your pussy on his facial hair. You leaned forwards, kissing him, tasting your cum and his spit. A moan tumbled out of your mouth, straight through your teeth.
"Make me yours. Fuck me." You begged, although Joel didn't need any begging.
"Anything for you."
His boxers were off in the blink of an eye, and you glanced down at his cock. Tanned, slightly curved, hanging low and heavy, the mushroom tip gleaming with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the site, but his grasp on your chin moved your line of sight to his face.
Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and a soft gasp escaped you at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. He grinded against you, his shaft rubbing up and down the folds of your pussy, jolts of electricity causing you to shiver each time he brushed your clit.
Joel was teasing you. He was making you in to a mess. A mess all for him.
His eyes never left yours. Joel watched you lovingly, noses pressed tight, lips brushing past the others. You were as close as two people could possibly be, and you were unsure where his skin ended and yours began. Stray curls of his hair tickled your forehead, and your chests rose and fell in unison.
"I love you." His breath was hot against your face.
"I love you too-" He pushed his length in as you spoke, stretching out the lips of your pussy, hitting deeper than anything had before. You moaned out a wanton noise you had never heard before, nails gently digging in to his shoulders.
Joel sat there for a moment, heavy eyelids half closed. He was soaking you in, literally, allowing himself to relish in the feeling of being inside of you. Of being one with you.
He had not afforded himself many of life's pleasures. Not after Sarah had died. Not after he had let himself go. He had paced the same shore as you many moons ago, gun in hand, trying to urge himself to just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It sounded so easy.
But something had stopped him. Something hadn't let him.
He had wondered, many years after that, why he hadn't done it. He had wondered what could possibly be worth living.
And then he saw you.
In that very same spot, rotting beneath the silver light of the moon.
It was you. Everything had been for you, hadn't it?
And now there you were, beneath him, as pretty as a picture, the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, everything he had ever dreamed for. You were everything to Joel, and he was everything to you.
And now there he was, deep inside of you. You were all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could see. You, you, you. The most beautiful thing he had ever saw, the most wonderful thing he could have ever waited for.
The shiver of your body brought him back down to reality. He kissed you deeply, and all you could do was smile against his mouth.
Lucky. That is what you were. That is what you both were.
"You feel so good." You whispered softly, hands gently running down the back of his head, finding a resting spot on the broad stretch of his freckled back.
Joel rubbed his cheek against yours, slowly moving his hips, grinding down against you, eliciting a sweet moan out of you. "Yeah?"
You both giggled in unison, and he watched your eyes shut as he began to pump deep inside of you. The feeling of your nails pinched at his skin.
Joel glanced down, watching his cock disappear into the depths of your cunt, sloppy noises of your arousal filling the air. Your pussy lips looked so pretty wrapped around his length, your wetness looked so pretty glistening off his cock.
You were made for him, and he for you.
"Take me, Joel." You begged, and his movement increased, growing slightly rougher as his forehead met yours, lips pressing together once more.
"God, you're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty. You feel so fucking good. This pussy.... fuck. Fuck, I never want to leave it." He was rambling through his thrusts, hand reaching down to rub at your swelling clit.
"Fuck me, Joel. Fuck me." You whined out, bucking up against the touch of his fingers as he fucked you harder in to the mattress.
"You're my girl. You're my beautiful fucking girl. God, you're everything to me. You're my world." His breath was hot against your face as he kissed you, coaxing you towards another orgasm with each rub of his middle finger across your clit.
"That's a good girl. I can feel you getting closer. I can feel that pussy tightening against me."
Your back arched off the mattress as you cried out his name, moaning as his praises filled your ears. Joel rested his face in the crook of your neck, hips slapping in to your thighs as he filled you up with every inch of his length.
"That's my girl, that's it, baby. Cum for me."
You did as he said. There was no use in holding back. As your orgasm rushed through, his own was approaching. Your name tumbled off his lips, the only word he could remember, as he came deep inside your walls. His hot cum filled you to the brim with a warmth you had never experienced, and Joel kept slowly pumping as his high rushed off, as his orgasm died down.
You shivered beneath him, another kiss being planted on your mouth. Then you cheeks. Then your nose. Then anywhere else Joel could get to.
A moan tumbled off Joel's tongue as he slowly slipped out of you, falling beside you before grabbing you and pressing you in to his chest.
"Stay with me."
"I always do." You whispered in to his chest.
"No, stay with me. Permanently. This can be our home."
"Our home." You whispered quietly, nuzzling closer into his body.
"Our home." He established firmly, resting his palm on the crown of your head.
The world would always spin, and sorrow would always lurk. That was how the world worked. That was the way of the universe. When you both awoke in the morning, the pain of yesteryears would still be there. The horrible, nasty tug of old memories and distant lives would always be somewhere deep within you.
The cosmos, however, were full of possibilities. You could have stayed in your parents home and succumb to a darkness greater than yourself. Joel could have drank himself to death or tasted the metal of a bullet. Those waves could have taken you, and he could have never decided to take a walk down to that beach.
There were many what if's.
But right now you were alive with passion, eyes wide and awake with a newfound love. The bitterness had gone, and something much brighter and better was waiting for you in the future.
Beside you, Joel Miller sat puffing on a cigarette, smiling at you through dreamy eyes. The sheen of sweat was still glistening across his chest, and the gentle smirk on his lips reflected the tales of a lovesick fool.
"Ready to go again?" He asked cheekily, handing you the smoke.
You took it with a smile.
For now, grief would have to wait.
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An Important Lesson - One-Shot
Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint.
A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!
Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)
Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.
Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!
~~~
The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were.
Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad.
You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long, And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?
Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date.
As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly.
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Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam.
“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?”
You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.
------------------------------------------
“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces.
You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”
Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”
“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”
“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”
“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat.
“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.
“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?”
You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat.
“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer.
“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that.
“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”
“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.
Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.
Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-”
You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it.
“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again.
“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?”
If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”
“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk.
“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.”
Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes.
And your secret?
You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.
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Fics that you should read before Arthur comes back: clown edition
Now I know we might all be clowns, and that they're probably playing with us as usual, but honest to God I don't care. I am going to get my hopes up because I have been doing exactly that for the past lord knows how long. So better stay consistent, ok? Better remain true to the cause.
Now here are some post-canon fics that the writers should put into consideration if they know what's good for them.
1. These Ghosts Might Be Mine by @peaceheather. 68K, G.
The only thing I wrote in my bookmarks over this was that it's "the ending we deserved". Pretty sure that sums up exactly what I want to say. It's not just your ordinary time travel fix-it fic, but one that is done with such brilliance that it leaves you marvelling in awe at times. You must do yourself a favour and read for this author if you actually want to get a good understanding of the characters past canon.
2. Seo Gaestlufe/The Soul's Love series by flowerofnettles. 180K, T/E.
I know how hesitant some are when it comes to series, but listen. This one is simply not long enough from how GOOD it is! I rarely read wip fics, (it's now complete) but I genuinely loved living a journey with the author while it was being written, and I felt the amount of love and passion the author spent on it. What a creation, honestly. It's one of the very best out there.
3. I will turn your fear into a handful of dust by @regulusrules. 1K, G.
I am biased, ok? I want my own happy ending for them. I want to see them grow old and weary together. I want them alive. And if what it takes is a 1k drabble of them lying together by the sea, then I'll take it. I'll take it every single time you guys.
4. Albion's last bulwark by Saturne. 92K, E.
You know when there's a halo around a fic that you intensely remember a scene from but never the whole? And the scene alone is more than enough to remind you how good of a fic it is? Yeah. Yeah it's definitely the case here. I vividly feel its effect still. Absolutely planning on rereading soon because of how brilliant it was.
5. And like the cycle of the year, we begin again by @katherynefromphilly. 207K, M.
And lastly, the fandom requirement. The one that we will throw fists for if we don't see a scene or two from. As much as I am always more into canon deviations than accepting the idea of immortality and Arthur rising after millennia, this fic was definitely a pro in trying to make me less in denial. It certainly set the expectations high for any adaptation they might make now, and for good reason.
ARTHUR WILL RISE AGAIN.
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Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part One
Summary: Some of your closest friends betray you and somehow push you into the arms of someone unsuspected.
Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap)
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: Mentions of cheating resulting in pregnancy and explicit language...I think that's it lol (Barely edited per usual lmao)
a/n: You guys seemed really excited for this fic so I'm gonna make it a miniseries since even the poll results were so close so anyways I hope you enjoy!
Requested by the lovely @kkusadmirer 💜
"Is everything ready?" I ask my best friend Jina for the hundredth time today. "Yes y/n calm down. This party is going to be perfect don't worry" she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, making me even more apprehensive but decide it's best to just take her for her word instead of digging deeper.
"You're right, I should probably just go back upstairs and get ready huh?" I say and start heading upstairs to take the curlers out of my hair and finish up my makeup in her old bedroom. "Let me know if you need help, I'll just be putting the finishing touches on everything in the meantime" she calls after me and I respond with a quick 'okay' before running up the rest of the steps I had been ascending.
I walk down the hallway lost in thought and am stopped in my tracks when I find myself bumping into someone, almost falling over but he luckily catches me before I even have a chance to stumble back more than a few steps.
"Careful there" he teases and I look up and apologize immediately. "I'm sorry Mr. Jeon I wasn't watching where I was going" I say quickly and he smiles at my flustered state. "It's okay darling don't worry about it" he says in a deep tone that has always gotten to me. I take a quick step back to create some much needed distance and to cover up the awkwardness that had settled in.
"Thank you again for letting us hold our engagement party in your home. Are you sure you still don't mind?" I ask him as well for the hundredth time as if we had time to change things with mine and my fiancé's relatives already on the way.
"Y/n if I minded I would've said no a long time ago. Don't worry, I'd do anything for you, since you and Jared have been such amazing friends to my daughter. It truly means more to me than you know" he says placing his hand on my bicep to aide in showing his sincerity.
"Of course Mr. Jeon. Moving to a new state in the middle of your Sophomore year of college has gotta be difficult for anyone so I'm just happy we could be there for her" I say smiling up at him. He stares at me for a second, studying my features before breaking out of the slight trace he had caught himself in to continue the conversation.
"I'm sorry you're probably wanting to finish getting ready and I'm holding you up" he says taking his hand off of me and stepping aside so I can walk down the hallway to my intended destination.
"Don't worry about it. We've got plenty of time as it is so I'm in no rush. Thanks again Mr Jeon" I say, quickly wrapping up the conversation and walk into Jina's room. Before I'm able to close the door though he makes it a point to remind me of something I've always forgotten.
"Haven't we agreed upon calling me Jungkook? Mr. Jeon makes me feel so old" he teases and we both laugh at his words. "Thank you, Jungkook" I say and he smiles, satisfied with the change. "You're welcome" he replies with an heir of sensuality that leaves my brain buzzing and I close the door before either of us has the chance to say another word.
He's always made me nervous but why does today feel different? It's not like his playful nature is anything new. He's acted like this since the first day I met him and when I had brought it up to Jina she just said he was being friendly so I never really gave it a second thought.
There's no denying he's a handsome man and from what I can tell him and his ex wife had Jina when they were quite young so he's not anywhere near old enough to make it seem a bit strange but I tend to just deal with the butterflies by ignoring them as much as I can.
He makes sure to be respectful when Jared's around and he hasn't crossed any lines to my knowledge so I don't mind it. It makes me feel confident more than anything and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.
I shake off those thoughts and finish getting ready before I start to panic about being late and end up finishing up a lot sooner than I had planned and as I'm putting on my heels I hear a faint knock at the door.
"Come in" I call out and my fiancé pops his head in from behind the door. "Aw I thought I would catch you while you were changing" he says with a fake pout leaving me smiling and shaking my head at him. "You'll get to do that plenty of times once we're married you pervert" I tease and he scoffs playfully.
"You know, now that I think about it I kind of am a pervert aren't I?" he says while stalking towards me, making my breath hitch and my adrenaline start pumping but I have to tell myself to calm down before I do anything stupid. "After the wedding I warn and he backs off like he always does.
I smile and get up from the bed I had been sitting on and give him a quick kiss but he holds onto the back of my neck, keeping me there for a little while longer and deepening the kiss. "You look gorgeous" he whispers against my lips and I smile before giving him a quick peck and pulling back to look at him.
"You don't look half bad yourself" I taunt and he scoffs before granting me a sarcastic 'thank you'. "I'm kidding baby you look handsome as always" I say and he smiles at that and places a quick kiss on my cheek before taking my hand and leading me downstairs to where we're met with a few of our family and friends having already arrived.
"You should've told me they were here sooner" I whisper to him while I wave at them as we walk downstairs. "I didn't want to rush you" he replies, giving my hand a gentle squeeze leaving my heart fluttering at how thoughtful he had been.
"Thank you love" I say looking at him as if he's the only one I need. "For what?" he chuckles, studying my features almost as if he's committing them to memory. "For wanting to marry me" I say and he laughs at my cute sentiment. "Thank you for saying yes" he replies and at that we start mingling together throughout the crowd and thanking everyone for coming.
~~~~~
We part ways after a few more groups of people come in and around the time we're going to bring out the champagne I start to look around to see if I can find him so we can both be ready to make a toast once everyone's gotten a glass.
As I look around and ask a few people where he might be they point toward the far end of the house where not many people had wandered to and so I curiously make my way over to the room I had assumed he would be in but before I'm even able to put my hand on the door I hear the voices of not only Jared but Jina as well.
"We have to tell her" I hear her say and stop short, my heartbeat immediately raising as I hold my breath, waiting for the response. "You told me you were on the pill though. How did this happen?" and at that my heart breaks. "I don't know I guess I forgot to take a couple of them and-" "And so what? You decided that screwing me without protection would work out just fine? Fuck Jina" Jared cuts her off and I hold my hand over my mouth to stop the sobs that I know are sure to come.
"You were the one that said you wanted to stop using them" she defends. "Oh and so now it's my fault. Jina we both agreed to that and you know it" he says and at that the room falls silent for a moment before he speaks up again.
"What are we gonna do?" he mumbles, leaving the choice in her hands. "We need to tell her because I'm not getting rid of this baby. I don't care if you're going to be in our kid's life or not but either way we're telling her" she says, standing firm on what she thinks is right. 'She should've thought about that before she started fucking my boyfriend' I think to myself and wait for the conversation to continue.
"She deserves to know" she says in a hushed tone and they both agree moments later that they'll tell me after the party to avoid both of our families catching wind of it and at that I walk away as quietly as I can, heading to the bathroom across the house to collect myself before I even try to face anyone.
'How the fuck could they do this to me? How could they do this to us? Did everything the three of us did together really not matter? All of this love that I gave Jared and he gave me made me feel like we were gonna last forever but I guess my wants and needs weren't enough for him. He wanted what he wanted and found that in my best fucking friend.
I chuckle dryly at that thought and how ironic it sounds at the moment. The wants to avoid the drama of the rest of the family knowing? Well they don't have that kind of luxury anymore.
I collect myself a few moments later and make my way out of the bathroom to intermingle again until I happen upon my soon to be ex fiancé in the crowd.
"Hey honey" I say and I can see him trying to hold back the guilt at my words and I hold back from ripping his head off for the sake of what I'm about to do. "Should we go ahead and bring out the champagne and make a toast?" I ask and he nods his head agreeing wordlessly.
"Great I'll ask Jina to help us out" I say and I can see how stiff his whole body becomes after I mention her name and he laughs it off and walks closer to me and I hold out my hand for him and guide us both over to where we've placed everything for the toasts.
~~~~
"Does everyone have a glass?" I call out and everyone says yes and Jina makes her way around, filling everyone's glasses but her own. "Okay great Jina go ahead and grab a glass and then if you guys don't mind we'd like to pose a toast!" I say and everyone places their full attention on both Jared and I who are standing side by side.
I watch as Jina tentatively fills her glass half full knowing full well that she won't be drinking any of that but I singled her out as a way to make her even more uncomfortable. Serves her right honestly but it's only just begun.
"Okay everyone, firsts things first I would just like to thank all of you for coming. It is just so wonderful we could all gather here together and the fact that you all made the effort to come and celebrate Jared and I is just something that I won't ever forget so thank you again from the bottom of my heart" I say and hear murmurs of 'You're welcome's and 'Thank you for inviting us' throughout the crowd and I continue on after those die down.
"Another person I would like to thank would be my best friend who I couldn't have any of this without her including being able to host this party in her's and her father's wonderful home so thank you both for that" I continue and I look for Jungkook in the crowd and see him raising his glass to me and I turn my attention to Jina moments later and see the forced smile on her face and I smile back at her and take a deep breath before continuing.
"You know Jina has been such a great friend to both Jared and I and the countless memories we've made together are something that I'll always hold close to my heart. One memory in particular is one that I think we'll all remember for the rest of our lives is one that I would like to share with you all" I say and I watch as Jared and Jina make nervous glances at each other but I hear the room fill with words mentioning how cute our friendship is and how it's nice to have close friends that get along. Oh boy they're about to know just how well we all get along.
"This one actually just happened not too long ago, in fact it was just today wasn't it guys?" I say making eye contact with the both of them and I can see as both of them realize that they've been caught.
"Yeah it's funny I was looking for Jared not too long ago to try to find where he had scurried off to and low and behold I found him and Jina having a cute little chat together just over there" I say and motion to the secluded part of the house where they had been and I see the crowd go from happy to confused.
"They had been talking about how they had a surprise and they needed to tell me after the party but I figured that I would just give them an opportunity to say it now so all of us can hear it together. Would you guys like to share it with everyone?" I ask the two of them and wait a few moments before Jared tries to shut me down.
"I think that's probably a conversation we should have in private right Jina?" Jared says, pleading with her to back him up. "Oh are you guys too shy? Don't worry I can say it" I counter, brushing him off. "Y/n I don't really think that's necessary" Jina now tries to reason with me but I'm way too far gone by now.
"Why not? Doesn't everyone deserve to know that you're pregnant" I say, pausing for the rest of the family to smile at the surprise and some of them start to congratulate her but before they can get too far I continue on.
"Yeah she's pregnant with Jared's baby! Isn't that so sweet?" I say and at that point the room goes so silent you would hear a pin drop and I break it by continuing to rub salt into the wound.
"I know right? It's so crazy isn't it? It was a surprise to me too. Congratulations to the both of you" I say and down my drink while they stand there speechless as does the rest of the crowd.
"So yeah anyways thank you all so much for coming and get home safe!" I say and make an exit into the backyard while Jared and Jina chase after me.
"Y/n, y/n wait. Please" Jina calls after me first, following as I make my way over to the clearing behind the house and away from prying eyes. "Why should I wait huh? It's not like you waited and thought 'Hey maybe it's not the best idea to be raw doggin my best friend's boy friend' or were you guys still fucking by the time you asked me to marry you?" I ask the two of them and they both just stand there in silence.
"You know what, you guys are perfect for each other. The whore I thought was my best friend and the whore who chased after her because neither of you could keep it in your pants. Thanks a lot, have a nice life" I say and storm off into the small clearing behind Jungkook's house, praying they won't follow me.
"Oh and another thing" I say before walking too far, "I'm keeping the ring to compensate for emotional damage you bastard" I spit at my ex and his jaw drops, never having heard words like that come out of my mouth ever let alone directed at him.
"Baby wait I can explain" he says trying a pathetic excuse of trying to get me to get him to hear him out. "Pretty sure I heard everything I needed to hear when you were having your little rendezvous earlier" I say, fully admitting to listening in on their conversation.
"If I never see either of you again it'll be too soon" I say and continue on into the clearing, walking just far enough to be out of their view. "We really fucked up didn't we?" I hear Jina say and soon hear Jared scoff in return. "We fucked up? No you fucked up! You should've been more responsible" he throws back at her and storms off. "What the fuck Jared don't you dare walk away from me" she yells and chases after him, following him back into the house.
After taking a few deep breaths and convincing myself over and over again that this is for the best and I'm better off without them I slowly make my way back into the yard and sit on the bench that's furthest away from everything, hoping no one finds me out here. Luckily it does the trick and I'm able to avoid facing anyone from the party and soon hear all of their cars leaving and the place falls silent.
"They're all gone now if you want to come inside" Jungkook says, walking over to me tentatively, making sure he doesn't do something to make me run off. I look up at him with a tear streaked face and try to smile but ultimately end up hanging my head, hiding what little emotions I've let myself show and he walks over and sits on the far side of the bench I'm on. He doesn't say anything, he just sits with me and lets me ride the wave of emotions I'm feeling but also letting me know he's there if I need him.
I let out a few shaky breath after having let a few more tears fall before collecting myself and drying my eyes. "I'm sorry" I whisper and he turns towards me with a confused look on his face. "Whatever for?" he questions, puzzled as to why I could possibly be apologizing.
"For the show I put on back there. I was just so mad when I overheard them talking and I don't know, I felt like I wanted to humiliate them since they decided to fuck behind my back like how fucked up can you be to sleep with your best friend's boyfriend?" I spout off and then look over and remember who I'm talking to.
"I- I didn't mean. I'm sorry Mr. Jeon" I apologize again and hang my head in shame. I'm met with a chuckle as a response and when I look up at him I can see that he's clearly very amused. "What's so funny?" I question and he continues to laugh.
"I'm sorry darling, just seeing how horrified you looked when you remembered that you were talking shit about Jina to her father was kind of hilarious and honestly adorable" he chuckles and I let out a breath and smile at him, happy he wasn't offended by it.
"I wasn't thinking straight, I'm sorry" I apologize again, feeling so so guilty for bringing all of this drama to his house. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for" he says softly, placing his hand on top on mine. The one that happens to be sitting on my thigh and I gulp at the sight of his big hand enveloping the sight of my hand and now has his fingers resting high up on the inside of my thigh.
"It's not your fault that they're both fucked up and you got caught in the crossfire okay? So please don't apologize about that again" he says and I nod my head mindlessly, my eyes still focused on the hand that is now squeezing my thigh in reassurance but I can't get past the feeling of having his hands on me like this.
He stands up a second later, taking his hand off of me and I look up at him, almost as if questioning why he stopped and he simply smiles at my cute reaction. "Let's head inside alright? It's gonna start getting cold out here soon" he says and I nod my head, wordlessly following him back into his home.
"Did you want a drink?" he asks and I jump at the opportunity. "Yeah I'll just take this" I say while grabbing one of the barely opened champagne bottles. "Did you want a glass?" he chuckles, watching as I take a big gulp out of the bottle. "No need, this is fine. Might as well not let it go to waste right?" I say and he hums in acknowledgement while poring himself a drink.
I walk around his living room and take in everything about it, reminiscing about all the memories and shared laughter there had been here over the last couple of years and find my mind wandering a bit. "I'm really gonna miss this place" I say, meaning to keep it to myself but accidentally voicing it loud enough for Jungkook to hear as well.
"You're welcome to come back here anytime you'd like" he replies, startling me when I realize he's gotten closer and is now sitting on the couch directly behind where I stand, facing the mantle and looking at the various pictures placed on it. Pictures of Jina, Jared and I over the years, ones that no doubt Jungkook had taken.
"I always hated this picture" I say mindlessly and I hear him get up off the couch so he can see which one I'm referring to. "Oh the one where I took all of you to the beach house a few years ago for your birthday? Why? Didn't you have fun?" Jungkook questions, genuinely surprised with my reaction to it.
"No it's not that, I had a great time. I just feel like I look like a wet dog in that picture" I admit and I'm granted with a little chuckle beside me. "Hey" I whine and glance over at him, my breath hitching when I realize just how close he's gotten.
"You know what? Now that I think about it I don't really like that picture either" he says and I turn my body to fully face him, highly offended and demanding he explain himself. "I didn't like the way that Jared was touching you that day. He couldn't keep his hands off you and I know that it was making you uncomfortable" he says, lowering his voice an octave and causing a shiver to run through my body.
"How did you-" "When a man really pays attention and cares for you he can tell from the slightest change how their woman is feeling. I guess he just never got the memo" he says, glaring at Jared in the picture and how he unashamedly has his hand placed directly on my ass while I'm wearing a swimsuit that I had already felt uncomfortable in in the first place.
My mind goes into overdrive with what those words could've possibly meant. 'Was he paying that close of attention to me that he noticed something small like that? Has he been jealous of Jared? Does he care for me?' are just some of the questions that start swirling around in my brain and before I can register what had happened next he's gone and sat on the couch and is suggesting I come sit down as well.
"You've had a long day don't you think?" he asks and I nod my head and sit on the other side of the couch making sure to keep proper distance between us. "Yeah I guess you could say that" I chuckle dryly and take a drink from the champagne bottle I still have in my hand but end up spilling it on myself.
"Shit" I say and Jungkook quickly grabs a napkin to help clean up having spilled some on the couch as well. "I'm sorry" I apologize, constantly finding more and more reasons to apologize and he shuts me down again. "A little champagne never hurt anybody don't worry about it" he says, brushing it off and leaving me feeling a little less guilty.
"Why don't I grab you a glass and give you some of my clothes to wear so if we have another little mishap it won't be as big of a deal" he offers and before I can refuse he's already given me a glass and is halfway up the stairs. Gosh my brain really must be working in slow motion already.
~~~~~
After Jungkook gives me a big t shirt and sweats I change into them and tie the drawstring tight to aide in keeping the pants up and look in the mirror of the bathroom I had been changing in and realize how much of a mess I look like right now with smudges of mascara under my eyes and my nose all red from all of the crying I had been doing earlier.
I quickly wash and dry my face and throw my hair up and out of the way since at this point theres no saving this look and just accept defeat, walking out in my now more casual look and find him sporting an almost identical one.
"Feel better?" he asks and I nod my head and walk towards where he's standing. "Come here" he says holding out his arm and pulling me into a hug. I melt in his embrace and almost start tearing up a bit again, but push back a little and softly break apart from his embrace before the two of us sit down.
"I don't know how to feel honestly. I feel angry and sad and betrayed and relieved and heart broken and I don't know. I'm just confused" I start and he nods his head, encouraging me to continue and so I do.
"We've been together since before Jina and I had ever met and things had always been so good between us and then when Jina came along it felt like things had gotten even better if that's makes sense. We had our three amigos group going and whenever we were together it felt like the rest of the world didn't matter. Or I guess at least that's how I felt" I say and take a shaky breath in and out before preparing to say the next part.
"When Jared and I got together, I told him right off the bat that I wanted to save myself for marriage and he respected that. I will admit that we both had gotten close to breaking that boundary I set once or twice but he always backed off when I asked him to and I was thankful for that. Guys my age or guys in general don't really respect that sort of outlook anymore so the fact that he was more or less willing to date me after knowing that gave me hope for us" I say, letting everything off my chest.
I down my glass and pour myself another one before continuing on and I take into account that he's watching my every move. "I figured 'If he had a problem with it and got tired of it then he would've dumped me' or 'He's had really good self control all of these years so that must mean there's something special between us'. So when he asked me to marry him I said yes without thinking twice. I had my knight in shining armor, the one who waited for me and I couldn't be happier" I scoff, taking another gulp of champagne.
"Looks like he waited to have me but got someone else to fulfill his needs on the side" I mumble and down the rest of my glass before pouring another and I can see the concern in Jungkook's eyes growing but I pay no mind to it.
"You know after all that I just can't help but wonder 'Was it all worth it? Was saving myself and in the end losing the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with worth it?' At this point my virginity is becoming more of a hassle than anything and honestly I don't want it anymore" I say, finally voicing how I had been feeling about keeping myself pure for a while.
"I feel like it would be best if I just got it over with and went on with my life you know?" I say, finally looking at Jungkook and I can see how dilated his pupils are and how ragged his breath has gotten, doing a horrible job at concealing it.
"Can I ask you something Mr. Jeon?" I question, leaning towards him, a new gained confidence flowing through me from all the alcohol that I had consumed in such a short time. Downing glass after glass throughout our whole evening. "Jungkook" he rasps and I feel a fluttery feeling building in my stomach.
"I'm sorry, I always seem to forget. Jungkook, can I ask you something?" I repeat placing my hand on his thigh, feeling the muscle tense up at the contact but he nods nevertheless and waits for me to continue. "How old were you when you lost your virginity?" I question, wondering what his experience might've been like.
"Um, when I was about eighteen I guess. It was right before I graduated high school" he answers truthfully and I nod my head, mulling over what I plan to say next.
"It seems like a man of your age has had his fair share of sex am I right?" I ask and see him gulp at my assumption. "I guess you could say that" he responds and leans back a bit when I get closer. "Mr. Jeon do you have a girlfriend right now? Someone you might be seeing?" I ask, making sure that in my tipsy state I won't make the same mistake my hopeless excuse of a best friend and ex made.
"No, I uh I'm not seeing anyone" he says quickly and I nod my head and wait a moment to get my words together. "Do you think you would mind taking my virginity?" I ask and at that his jaw drops, not expecting to be asked something like that straight away but in this state I guess you could say I'm full of surprises.
"I- What?" he asks, confused and concerned as to if I actually meant what I said and not only that but clarifying to make sure he's heard me right. "I'm asking you if you would take my virginity. You said you'd do anything for me remember?" reminding him of his words from earlier in the day.
"Y/n I think you might've had a little bit too much to drink" he says scooting back from me to create some distance but I close that distance moments later. "No I'm fine, I haven't even had that much silly" I say, slowly starting to slur my words but still conscious enough to make them coherent.
"Look I think that's something you should keep until you have a chance to give it to someone special. Someone who you care about and cares about you too" he says, trying to softly reject me but it falls of deff ears.
"I care about you though. Don't you care about me?" I pout and he shakes his head and tries hard to hide a smile but fails. "Of course I care about you darling but I think you're too confused and too drunk to be making this sort of decision" he say holding my shoulders at arms length to keep me from getting any closer to him.
"It's okay Mr. Jeon I know what I'm doing. Oh! I mean Jungkook" I say cutely, leaning in a bit more and his arms give in, letting me get a bit closer so as to not harm either one of us. "Don't worry I won't tell Jina" I say and he clears this throat at the sound of his daughter's name.
"Y/n I really don't think this is a good idea" he says, watching almost helplessly as I place my hand on his shoulder and use it to anchor myself as I climb onto his lap and although his words have said otherwise, his hands are the ones that guide me by my hips to sit on his lap, giving me a boost of confidence in my decision.
"Can you do this for me?" I ask and his eyes ping pong between mine, seeing how blown out my pupils are and notices how hot my skin has become. He stays silent and just takes in all of my features and waits for my next move. I lean in closer to him and run my fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck.
"Just take it" I say against his lips and without a seconds hesitation he grabs the back of my head and smashes his lips against mine.
It's a mess of lips and tongue and teeth, accompanied by the sound of him groaning and pulling me closer and me moaning at the feeling of being desired by someone like him. Someone strong and confident and undeniably sexy. Someone who wants me just as much as I want him but before I can fully grasp what's about to happen I feel myself slipping away and lose control of my body.
"Y/n?" Jungkook questions feeling my body slump against him after I had broken the kiss and rested my head on his shoulder. He smiles at the realization that I had fallen asleep in the midst of it all and wordlessly stands up, carrying me off into the guest bedroom and laying me down to sleep there for the night.
"Goodnight darling" he says, placing a kiss on my forehead before walking out of the room and slowly closing the door behind him.
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❧ word count: 17.4k
❧ warnings: cursing
❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons
❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series
You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?
You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.
And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.
Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”
Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?
Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”
“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”
You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”
“Meet anyone?”
“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”
“Oh?”
Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.
The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.
At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”
“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”
“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”
Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”
She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”
“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”
“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”
“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”
At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.
All that was left was to make her proud.
Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.
Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.
Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.
As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”
“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.
“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”
Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”
“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”
“He doesn’t.”
You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”
“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”
“If that’s what’ll convince you.”
“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”
When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.
Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”
“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.
You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.
“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.
NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.
It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.
Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”
You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.
“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”
With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”
They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.
Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”
A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.
Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”
“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.
Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”
“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.
The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.
“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.
Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”
“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”
You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.
Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.
When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.
Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.
You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.
He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”
Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”
Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.
“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.
Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”
“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”
You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”
But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.
“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.
“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”
You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.
Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.
“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.
Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”
“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.
While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”
“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.
“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”
“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”
“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”
“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”
“We should hang out.”
“What?”
“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”
“I guess.”
“Then we should start right now.”
Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.
So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.
“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”
“Then tomorrow.”
“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”
Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”
“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”
NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”
If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.
“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”
You sighed, “It does...”
The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”
“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”
“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.
“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?
“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”
[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]
Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.
[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]
[jeno: if that works for you, of course]
[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]
[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]
Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.
“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.
“It's just one person,” you informed her.
“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”
“Lee Jeno, apparently.”
“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”
“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”
She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”
“Right.”
Not a great idea to leave him on read.
[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]
[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]
It was less than a minute later that he replied.
[jeno: here’s my schedule]
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]
A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.
“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.
“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”
“So far the last one seems most likely.”
With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.
Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.
Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.
A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.
Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”
“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”
“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.
“I don’t mind—”
You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”
With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.
He didn’t.
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.
His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.
“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.
“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”
With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.
Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.
Hopefully.
The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.
It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.
Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.
But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.
Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.
He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”
Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.
You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.
The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.
“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.
The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.
“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.
“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”
“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.
He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”
“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”
“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.
“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”
You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.
“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.
“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.
He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”
You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.
“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.
“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”
Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.
“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”
“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”
Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”
“Hm?”
“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”
You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”
“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”
The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.
“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”
“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”
“And what about the others?”
As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.
Why you?
Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.
Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.
“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.
“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.
The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”
You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”
He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”
“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.
The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”
“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”
Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”
“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”
“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.
There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.
“Really,” you echoed.
The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.
“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.
“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.
Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.
“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”
“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.
Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”
He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”
And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.
“Wow.”
It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”
Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.
Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”
You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”
“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”
“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.
“So you did give her a hard time.”
Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.
Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.
“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”
He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”
Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.
“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”
“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”
Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”
There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.
The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.
“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.
“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.
Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.
“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.
“Nothing.”
You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”
“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.
Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”
Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”
“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.
“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”
“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”
Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”
You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”
Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.
“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”
You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?
“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.
Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”
Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.
“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.
Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.
His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.
“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.
Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”
“Where are we going?”
He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”
It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.
“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.
“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.
“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.
“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”
“Okay…”
As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?
“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.
“Done what?”
“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”
This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.
And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.
And you panicked.
Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”
Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.
“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”
That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.
“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.
He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.
You could dream.
“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”
You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.
Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.
“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.
“I said no,” you deadpanned.
“What?”
“Well, kind of.”
At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”
“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.
“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.
“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”
“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.
“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”
“He’s hot.”
Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.
She snorted, “That’s a problem?”
“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”
“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”
“No, never. I couldn’t.”
“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”
The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”
She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”
Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”
Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.
“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”
“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”
Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”
She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.
You couldn’t do it.
The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.
Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.
Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.
Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.
As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.
“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.
“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.
You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.
His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”
For now.
Maybe you liked the idea of that.
“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.
“Can I at least tip?”
“Already added that on the receipt.”
“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”
He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.
Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.
And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.
You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.
With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”
Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”
Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.
The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.
“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.
You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.
“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”
“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”
“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”
She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.
Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”
Oh, another ‘but.’
“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”
You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”
You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.
“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”
Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.
“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”
That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.
Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.
“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”
Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.
“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”
“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.
Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”
You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.
“And she wants a second part.”
“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”
And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”
You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”
Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.
“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”
“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”
A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.
“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”
You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.
“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.
“Since now.”
You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”
“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”
That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.
Right?
One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.
Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.
Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.
“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.
“Nothing.”
You frowned.
“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”
He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.
“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”
He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?
Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.
Right?
On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.
All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.
As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.
But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.
“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”
Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.
“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”
“Fine.”
“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”
He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.
“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”
“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”
The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.
Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.
“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”
He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”
Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.
“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.
He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.
“Jeno, look at me.”
At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.
“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”
He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.
Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.
You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.
Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”
And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”
“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ve got plenty of paper.”
Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”
His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?
“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.
Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.
“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”
The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”
You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.
“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”
Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.
“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”
A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.
“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”
“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.
This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.
You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”
Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”
“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”
While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”
“Right!”
Right?
Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.
You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.
After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.
One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.
The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.
The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.
You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.
When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.
“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.
“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.
“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”
A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”
“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”
“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”
“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”
“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He giggled.
“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.
“Yep!”
“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”
“Yep!”
“Without a guide.”
“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”
“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”
“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”
“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”
“Now you’re being dramatic.”
You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”
“Let’s go!”
Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.
Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.
“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.
Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.
“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”
He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”
“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”
“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”
“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.
“There you go.”
“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.
You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.
Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.
“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.
From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.
A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.
“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”
“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”
You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”
“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”
“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”
As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.
You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”
Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.
With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”
He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.
Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.
“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.
“Nope.”
“That one?” You pointed to a different one.
“Nope.”
“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”
He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.
“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.
He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.
“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”
“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”
“A couple more minutes?”
“Yeah, of course.”
After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.
The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.
You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.
“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.
“Who doesn’t like to travel?”
“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”
“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”
You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”
That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.
Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”
“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.
It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.
You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.
“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.
Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”
“Yeah.”
You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.
It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”
You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?
The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.
“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”
“When do you think that will be?”
“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”
“And the latest?”
“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”
You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.
Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.
With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.
Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”
You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.
The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.
Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.
Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.
The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.
Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.
You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.
“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.
As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.
“Wh—”
You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?
With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.
He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.
When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.
Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”
A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.
Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.
“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”
“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”
“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.
Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”
The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.
Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.
You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.
“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.
Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”
“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”
You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”
“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”
“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.
“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”
Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”
“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”
It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”
After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”
“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”
“I can wait three weeks.”
And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.
“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.
“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.
As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.
The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.
At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”
“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”
“Together!” He repeated.
Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.
“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.
“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.
“It took you five days to read it.”
He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.
Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.
But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.
Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.
You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.
With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.
A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.
“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.
“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.
“I have a question…”
“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.
“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”
“Ask away.”
“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”
“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”
“Jeno, I’m sorry—”
“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”
You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”
“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”
“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”
“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”
“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.
“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”
“I love you.”
“Christ, I was joking!”
“I wasn’t!”
You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”
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A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Full Revised Masterpost
No one asked for it, but I wanted it, so here it is! I was going through some of my old stuff, particularly this series because it was a personal favorite of mine. And boy oh boy did I feel like it was outdated. Partially because of nightbringer, but also because my writing style has changed a bit over the last few years. So, I figured I'd go through it all, edit a few things, take out a few bits I didn't agree with character wise, and add some details here and there to make it all flow a little better! Lucifer's chapter especially got a chunky overhaul (yeesh that one made me cringe). The changes aren't enormous, but just enough to make a difference I think. And now I get to put them all in one nice little post! I'll still be keeping my older versions on my masterlist. It'll be kinda neat to have both there for comparison's sake. Plus I added a little bonus scene at the end that's... a teaser of things I have planned. See if you can guess what it is.
Oh, and if you're new here, hi! Enjoy a silly fic I made!
Anyways, enjoy!
Warnings: Sickness, fainting, blood mention, gagging, fighting, medication use, brief taking of double doses. General sickfic things.
It spread as a rumor first. The halls of RAD were always abuzz with the latest news; the newest trend, an upcoming event, what Diavolo was having for lunch. However, lately the only thing everyone seemed to be talking about was a new airborne virus. Students clustered less frequently in the halls, sharing hushed whispers on who had been most recently afflicted. You had been assured that humans should be immune to this particular strain but to still err on the side of caution. Take the proper steps to keep yourself in good health. Waves of sickness like this always came closer to the wintertime, much like the human realm. And while the air in the Devildom carried a general sense of anxiety, no one in the House of Lamentation seemed worried in the least.
“We’re technically fallen angels, not demons.”
“Psh, you think a little virus is enough to affect us? No chance!”
“There’s no way any of us will get sick. Don’t worry.”
Pride was rampant throughout the House. So…perhaps it was only fitting that Lucifer was the first in the household to catch it.
He had shown symptoms a few days before, beginning with not having the energy to scold Mammon. Then it snowballed from there. Almost losing his balance while going up the stairs, putting too much sweetener in his coffee, failing to focus over relatively mindless things, it concerned you. Everyone else didn’t seem to notice…or perhaps they were pretending not to, taking advantage of Lucifer’s odd state and doing whatever their sinful little hearts desired. No one thought it could be that serious, otherwise they might’ve done something about it. Kept a closer eye on him… But this was Lucifer after all. He got like this sometimes, they all claimed. He was simply working himself too hard again. But…even so…you knew something was off. This was more than just your typical burnout.
Did you dare risk damaging his pride to ask? You weighed the outcomes in your mind, deciding in the end to go check on what was wrong that night. Hoping to appeal to him, you had even made some of his favorite tea. You’d even prepared a second cup for you, secretly wanting to maybe share a moment of time together… Stepping slowly to ensure you didn’t spill a single drop, you went straight to his bedroom, knocking on his door exactly twice in even beats. No answer. His study then, perhaps. So you headed there, passing the shelves of dusty tomes to see that the bookshelf which served as his secret entrance was wide open.
“Lucifer?” you called, holding yourself back on worried feet. Waltzing in unannounced did not always grant you the warmest of receptions. He preferred to have some sort of warning. Although, this time there was no response to your announcement. “Lucifer?” you asked again, your voice slightly louder. Still nothing. You couldn’t hear any music… and he wasn’t often known to wear headphones. Just a peek couldn’t hurt, could it? Just to make sure he wasn’t inside. You stepped forward and poked your head through the doorway.
At first glance, the office appeared empty, his overly grandiose chair devoid of its demon. However, after a better look, you noticed that he was inside, just not how you expected him to be. The Prideful Lucifer was crumpled on the ground, surrounded by what should’ve been a stack of papers, but now was just a scattered mess on the floor.
The heart in your chest nearly stopped, your mind jumping to various grisly conclusions. Somehow you managed to put the teacups aside without dropping them like one might do in a dramatic soap opera episode. The musical sting was audible in your mind. You rushed to him, moving him with a strained grunt so he was flat on his back. You shouted his name in an attempt to wake him, checking for wounds. “Lucifer!” He didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Burning crimson cheeks flushed brightly on skin as white as a sheet. You checked his breathing. Constant, luckily, but shaky. There was a faint tremble throughout his body. Your hand drifted down to his cheek as you caressed his face. To say he looked terrible was an understatement.
You fumbled for your D.D.D. desperately hoping that someone would pick up quickly. But who to call? Your mind ran through everyone you knew. Mammon? Barbatos? Diavolo? Perhaps Beel was your best bet. He was dependable. You didn’t want to risk anyone else taking advantage of him like this. Besides there was no way you could drag Lucifer up to bed alone, and Beel was easily as strong as three of you.
You dialed Gluttony, doing your best to not bite your knuckles in worry. Each echoing ring felt far too long… Pick up… Pick up! “Oh, MC, you called at a good time.” The breath that came out of you was almost a gasp. “I’m getting ready to order food since the kitchen is empty. What do you want? I’ll get it for you?” Beel sounded like he was still in the middle of chewing, which probably meant he just now emptied out the kitchen. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that though.
“Beel- Beel! I… I came into the office and… Please come down to Lucifer’s study, I- I need your help! Lucifer- Lucifer he’s…not well.” Your voice shook, doing your best to form comprehensive words aside from the panic. You’d hid the fact that he collapsed to save some of his pride. Even though it would be fairly obvious once Beel got here…
Beelzebub’s tone went more serious. He swallowed whatever food he had left before speaking again. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up.
Now that Beel was coming to help, you felt a bit more relaxed, but not by much. You put your D.D.D. back into your pocket and knelt beside Lucifer’s body. His head was lifted up with your shaking hands, letting him use your lap as a pillow. You brushed away the hair that was now starting to stick to his skin. You’d never seen him like this before, and you were certain that Lucifer would rather die than be discovered like this. Nevertheless you couldn’t help but pet his head.
It wasn’t too long before Beel came in, messy crumbs all over his shirt as he left in a haste. Once he saw the state Lucifer was in, he scanned back over his shoulder. “Mammon is busy arguing with Levi, Belphie is taking a nap, Asmo’s out, and I’m hoping Satan is in his room. Let’s get Lucifer to bed quickly.” He came over and quickly lifted his elder brother up off the floor. It didn’t matter how long you had been around him, any time Beel was able to show of just how strong he was, it left you in awe. “Why don’t you go ahead of us and meet me in his room?” Beel asked. For a second, you blinked in a stupor before you quickly nodded, bolting as fast as your feet would take you up the stairs towards the second floor to his grand master bedroom.
Careful of potential eyes, you looked around for anyone before opening the door. As Beel said, you could hear Mammon and Levi going at it, but they were a few rooms away. You invited yourself inside, leaving the entrance open just a crack so Beel could easily come right in. Now to prep Lucifer’s bed. It was extremely large, entirely unnecessary for one person, but a perfect fit for the Demon of Pride. You took one corner of the silky sheets and folded them aside. Then you waited. And waited. And waited. After what seemed like eternity- but was realistically only a few minutes- both brothers entered the room. You got up and quietly shut the door behind them while Beel placed Lucifer on the bed.
“What do we do now?” you asked. “Should we call a doctor?”
Beel’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he was worried, but he shook his head. “We… can’t. We leave him alone and he’ll probably call someone when he wakes up.”
You stood there, jaw open, not able to fully process the words. “’We can’t?’ W-What do you mean, ‘we can’t’?”
“It’s sort of an unspoken rule… If Lucifer ever gets sick we have to leave him alone. Even just the fact that we brought him up here might get us in trouble.” Beel looked a bit downtrodden.
You stammered over your words. “I- but- we can’t- That’s the most ridiculous and hypocritical rule I’ve ever heard! If it were someone else, Lucifer would have everything covered as soon as possible!”
“It’s mostly to keep Satan and Belphie away… and to make sure Diavolo doesn’t find out. He tends to be a worrier.” Beel explained. He shrugged, glancing over at his brother for a moment as he thought. “I’ll go keep watch over this room. Maybe if you take care of him, he won’t be as upset. Please…take care of him MC.” With that he left, however you could still hear him outside the door, already munching on something as he stress ate.
You nervously paced. Taking care of him sounded easy in theory, but in actuality you had no idea how to take care of a demon. Would it be the same as a human? Probably not but that was all you knew how to do, so it had to be better than nothing, right? So you left the room for just a moment to grab a few things. A glass of water so he could stay hydrated and a bowl of cold water with a soft rag to bring down his temperature.
When you returned to the room, you froze. Lucifer was sitting up slightly in bed, looking disoriented. A relived sigh released all the built up tension in your lungs. “Oh, thank Diavolo… Lucifer, are you okay?”
His head swung around at you, eyes a bit wide. He didn’t notice you had entered. “MC… what’re you doing in here? I--” He cut himself off in shock as you placed the cup of water in his hands and the bowl on his nightstand. You got the rag damp, wringing out the excess.
“Do you not remember?” you asked him, raising a hand to put the rag against his face. Embarrassed and clearly overwhelmed, he swatted your touch away and forcefully put the glass back in your hands.
“Enough of this fussing! There’s no need for it.” He scowled, but his dry lips were a bit poutier than he intended. “I don’t know what’s gotten you to believe you needed to come in my room, but I don’t remember inviting you. It’s about time you took your leave.” His tone was stern but his words didn’t have the usual sharp impact they normally did when he was upset. They just sounded tired. Strained. You frowned. You couldn’t tell if he was unaware he collapsed or just glancing over the fact he did. Either way he was clearly lying about being alright. You decided not to bring up the study situation for his pride’s sake, but even with your two fully ordinary human eyes you could tell that he needed to be looked after.
You’d defied him before and hadn’t died yet. Sure there had been close calls, but… what was going against him one more time going to do? “I’m not leaving," you told him.
Lucifer disapproved. His eyes went narrow and air around him grew even hotter. A few more red splotches showed up on his face… “Would you like to say that again? I hope for your sake I misheard you.”
“I’m not leaving you right now, Lucifer.” You stood your ground. Sometimes stubbornness needed to be met with more stubbornness. Lucifer clenched his jaw and stood up. Too quickly. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, clutching tightly the only thing keeping him from falling over. You. He had his face buried in your shirt, his breathing now ragged. Seeing him like this was torture… although there was something about seeing Pride be humbled that gave him further access to your heart. He wasn’t some untouchable distant concept. He was a person who got sick sometimes, just like you. Once more, you ran your hand through his hair, tender fingers rubbing at the pressure points on his scalp. Even him just being this close made you hot. He was a burning furnace. “You’re not well, Lucifer… And I know you won’t ever admit it so you don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to ask, I’ll do the begging, just please let me take care of you. You take care of everyone else, so when you can’t even take care of yourself let me take care of you. Please.”
He didn’t respond, just kept his face hidden. For a second, he motioned as if he was going to push you away… but he pulled you closer, his grip on your clothes getting tighter. Acceptance… You bent down to grab one of his arms to help him get to his feet. His throat cleared as he sat on the edge of his bed. It was clear he had a lot to say, but he kept everything to himself. Lucifer’s eyes wandered, looking at everything in his room except for you. Slowly, you reached towards his neck, taking the stuffy tie off of him. Kneeling down, you removed his dress shoes, tucking them aside. He loosened a few of his own buttons, already looking a little better without so many unnecessary layers. Finally, you took both his hands in your own, feeling the curves of his palms before stripping his hands of their gloves. When he got back inside his bed he turned away from you. Sulking and feeling thoroughly defeated probably. Flustered, if you could allow yourself to think so. You tried hard not to smile. He would absolutely kill you if he knew you thought he was being cute.
With a hand on his shoulder, you urged him to lie on his back. Once he begrudgingly did, you pulled the blankets up to his neck and had the rag in hand again. You ran the cool fabric across his cheeks before folding it up and settling it across his forehead. Then you went over to one of his record players, scouring through his large collection until you found the record that he told you was a favorite of his. And not one of his cursed ones. You placed it on the player, making sure the music was loud enough to be heard but not enough to keep him up. It started with a soft piece, something calm and hauntingly beautiful. Hopefully it would help him relax.
Lucifer already had his eyes closed again, the red in his cheeks gone down from cherry to coral- in other words, just a touch. However, it was enough to make you feel less antsy at his condition. You had been so close to contacting Diavolo, but now it seemed as if you didn’t need to. Since you had just had your hands in the water, they were cool to the touch, so you gently brushed them against his cheek again. This time he moved his head to melt into you. A soothed hum left his throat. He grabbed your sleeve, now looking up at you with an expression entirely different than just a few minutes before. “Please…don’t leave tonight.” His voice was soft and hush, almost as if he didn’t want to hear his own words. You rubbed his cheekbone with your thumb. A shiver ran through his body and it was hard to tell if it was from your touch or from the fever.
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Sleep now.” He shut his eyes and with a large shuddering sigh, he seemed to drift back to sleep. You took the rag, it already warm, and you touched your forehead to his. “Sweet dreams.” You whispered.
Lucifer recovered fairly quickly. What had left lesser demons bedridden for a week or so only had the eldest brother recovering for a handful of days. Now, he had done his best to keep himself isolated, but once his siblings eventually learned how bad off he had been- despite your best efforts to keep it a secret- they all came in on their own time to check on him. At the end of the day, even if they often had each other by the throat, they cared for each other deeply. You had to wonder if the extra unexpected TLC was part of what got Lucifer back up on his feet so rapidly.
Mammon was in and out of Luci’s room pretty frequently. Despite yours and Pride’s warnings, he was determined to do his duty as second in line and take care of his sibling. So, no one was all too surprised when Greed fell ill not even a single day after Lucifer was symptomless. But, what did catch everyone off guard was that Mammon was not the only one who got suddenly sick. Out of every other brother, Satan was also next to fall ill to the Devil’s Cold. Lucifer commented proudly that Wrath had been excellent in his service, bringing him specially crafted potions to lesson pain and bringing him up special meals to restore his vigor. All was revealed much to Satan’s dismay. Apparently it was meant to be a secret. He tried to twist it into some sort of reverse psychology prank, but everyone knew Satan was acting out of worry. So, a proper deed was returned in kind, Lucifer looking after the both of them to the best of his abilities. Such a doting older sibling through and through. Although, despite the rare opportunity to have Lucifer wait on them hand-and-foot, Mammon and Satan were both acting strangely difficult. Satan’s denial of Lucifer’s fussing made more sense, strained relationship and all, but Mammon’s sudden cold stubbornness was rather uncharacteristic. So, while the eldest was busy finishing the two extra workloads of Student Council business, he asked that you check up on the second-eldest.
You eagerly agreed. For not only was Mammon being reserved towards his siblings, but also towards you… It was a sensation you weren’t used to, him being so close to you and all. This would be a good excuse to see him. Approaching his room, you knocked on his door, pressing your ear against the expensive looking wood only to hear a groan from inside. It wasn’t what you would define as a dismissive groan, so you let yourself in. Overhead completely off, extra light from his displays all dimmed, you were left stumbling around in darkness for the light switch. Once you flicked it on, the pained moan you heard before returned, albeit louder this time. Seemed he was sensitive to light at the moment. You bit your bottom lip and flicked his light back off, opting to use the glow from the screen of your D.D.D. instead.
The faint light gave you enough vision to spot giant lump under the covers of his bed. Not a single part of Mammon’s body was exposed. He was all bundled in a ball. You came over, a nice hot drink in your hands in a shiny golden-colored mug. Lucifer had told you that the concoction was good for demons, and among that one of Mammon’s favorites. To you, it just smelled like cinnamon and milk.
You gently pressed your hand over the bed lump, shaking it slightly as you announced your presence with a soft voice. “Mammon, it’s me… Lucifer sent me. I have something for you.”
The blob of blankets shifted, little chirps of discomfort making their way to your ears. He scuttled away from you at first, the blanket pulled tighter around him. It required several minutes of coaxing for him to come out. The covers fell away as he finally sat up in bed, hair sticking up every which way. His black tank-top was sticking tight to his torso, his face devoid of the normal vibrancy it usually held. Not only that, but it seemed the exhaustion had him stuck halfway between his demon and human form. His body marks were present across his body, but they were very translucent. His horns were absent from his head, but you could see his wings tucked against his back. His nails were the sharpness of talons. Normally, his eyes shined at you, little flecks of gold floating in the seas of blue. Now his color was dulled. But at the sight of you, a bit of him perked up. You were a much needed presence. Even if he talked up a big game over text about ‘not needing to see you’, at the end of the day, having you at his side was what he wanted most of all. You could read from his expression that he regretted not having you come in sooner.
You held out the drink for him, and he reached for it with shaking hands. Worried he’d spill it, you cupped your own hands around his, giving him the added support as he brought the rim of the mug to his lips, taking mini sips while giving himself breaks to breathe in-between. You frowned… He was barely able to hold and consume his own drink. When he was done drinking it, you put the half-empty mug aside on his nightstand.
“Th-ank you, huma-hu… MC,” he croaked, his eyelids fluttered and he fell back onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow. He let his hand dangle over the side of his bed, his fingers almost grazing the floor. Your heart ached seeing him in this position… but you secretly had to admit, he was being awfully cute. His tsundere nature was gone, you only wished he didn’t need to be this far gone to be sweet with you. You ran a hand through his crazed hair. A little greasy. He would need to wash up. You’d let Lucifer handle that one. Mammon turned his head slightly, just enough to see you with one eye cracked open. You saw it glisten with tears for a split second before he turned back into his pillow. Lucifer was probably caring in his own demanding way, but you wanted to bet he’d never been treated like this before.
You shook your head a bit at that thought and went about rummaging though his clothes to find a cleaner outfit for him to wear. Lucifer could help him get changed out of those sweaty things later. You folded up a suitable replacement and placed it on his couch, pushing aside empty shopping bags. Then you sat beside Mammon on the mattress, reaching for the rag Lucifer had brought to him earlier. Mammon must’ve been tossing and turning for a while, seeing as it was at the end of his pillow case, threatening to fall to the floor. You dipped it in the bowl of cool water that was left on the nightstand, feeling the feverish warmth dissolve out of it.
“Mammon…Mammon, turn your head,” you asked. He raised up his dangling arm to reach for the covers…and pulled the fabric over his body with a huff. You had been wrong, apparently. There was still a twinge of tsundere left in him. It was comforting, at least, knowing that he still was the embarrassed little demon with that playful attitude you adored. You covered up a small smile with your hand. “Mammon, please. Pretty please? Pretty please with Grimm on top?” You pleaded with him, leaning on him with your own body till he squirmed under your pressure.
“Oi…” he croaked. “Fine…” He shuffled around under his sheets before showing just the upper part of his head, his gaze plastered on anything other than your face. You tried hard not to chuckle, you really did. He was being so stubborn about this. You placed the cool rag on his forehead and heard him sigh. You used a finger to pull down his blankets so you could see his features. You cupped his chin to move his head and guide his gaze towards yours. You stroked his cheek and watched a twinge of color return to his cheeks as he blushed.
“Do you need anything else, Mammon?” You asked him gently. It was a bold move to ask Greed what he wanted. You could only begin to imagine what he’d ask for. Cold cash? A new pair of shoes? A car? At the moment though, you didn’t care what he asked, you’d get it for him if it was within your power…and your budget.
To your surprise, he frowned at the thought of being pampered, apparently. He licked his cracked lips and shook his head. “N-Nah…you can…go.” Had hell frozen over? Was this why Lucifer had asked you to check on him? Was he so miserable right now, he couldn’t even turn to his sin? Or was there something more to it?
“Mammon… you’re not being greedy by letting me help you. I can grab you whatever you think you need. Hell, I’d go fishing in Lucifer’s wallet if I thought it would make you feel better.”
The second-born tried to laugh a little but just ended up coughing. After he wrestled control over his own lungs, he blinked a little, thinking. “Can I…have some water, maybe?” He talked as if this was a new sensation, as if he had never coveted anything in his life.
“Of course. Anything else?” If you managed to poke and prod a little more of his sin to come out, you’d feel a little better.
“I…don’t know…” Poor Mammon seemed pretty out of it, like he was dangerously close to falling asleep, but being forced awake by the sheer discomfort in his body. If you could help him out, he might stop tossing and turning.
“Okay,” you nodded, a little idea illuminating in the back of your mind. If he couldn’t be greedy, you’d be greedy for him. “I’ll be right back with a few things, okay?” His fingers snagged onto the end of your sleeve, upset at the thought of letting you go, but his hand dropped back to the bed. With an assuring squeeze to his shoulder, you left his room.
A quick text was sent to the other residents of the House, requiring a quick meeting in the common-room. You tried hard not to pace as you waited for each brother to trickle in, a curious look on all their faces. Lucifer showed up last, his arms folded but appearing more concerned than frustrated. “I’m assuming this has to do with Mammon,” the eldest chimed in before anything was said.
“Exactly.” Turning your head, you gave each brother a determined look before setting your plan in action. “We’re all putting together a Get-Well-Basket for Mammon!”
A sleepy voice raised a little. “Huh?… A Get-Well-Basket?”
You nodded. “Yeah, you know, like a little assortment of gifts to show someone you care. It doesn’t have to be much, but just grab things you think would make him feel better! Oh, and he likes words of affirmation, so you all have to write a nice note!” A few of them tried to groan, but you were hearing none of it. “Go on! Right now! The master of your pact demands you! Don’t make me use ‘stay’.” The grumbles turned into quick agreements as the able-bodied set off in their quest to prepare their brother a basket. You hurried off to your own room, grabbing an open Akuzon box off your floor, a set of pens and a stack of sticky-notes off your desk. Then you looked around for something to give your precious demon of Greed. A lot of the things you owned… had been bought by him. You guessed you hadn’t realized till now how much he bought things for you. He deserved some nice things back… Not wanting to leave Mammon waiting too much longer, you snagged a nice pair of socks and a crystal you’d bought at a nearby magic shop. They got thrown in the box as you went back to the common-room.
A few other brothers were already there by the time you returned. Pleased with them, you set the box on a nearby coffee-table and handed each of them a pen and a note. “Now, your little letters. Make them nice or I’ll force you do them again!”
Dramatic huffs and puffs were made for the show of things, but they all seemed to really think about something nice to say. “How’s he doing, by the way?” Beel wondered aloud, speaking as he recently entered the room. Different eyes flickered down to the floor. Seems they all were wondering the same thing but none of them knew how to say it.
“Not the best,” you admitted, taking a few of the brother’s gifts and settling them in the reused box. “Which is why I thought this little pick-me-up would do him some good.” The rest of the demons fell silent, finishing their notes and attaching them to their gifts.
“Tell him- Tell him I said to feel better,” Levi sighed, giving you a little wave before returning to his bedroom.
“Yeah! Tell him that if he misses out going to that party with me next week, I won’t ever forgive him!” Asmo’s eyes narrowed at nothing in particular, kissing his note before putting it with his gift. The other siblings had similar sentiments, their well-wishes eventually compiled into one box. You found yourself smiling. This would help for sure. With the box and the water he originally asked for in hand, you returned to his room.
Mammon was sitting up again when you came back, his knees tucked against his chest, his finger tugging at a loose thread on the hem of his blanket. The soft light coming from a book lamp on his nightstand helped you keep from tripping on the floor. When you walked in through the door, you could’ve sworn you saw him smile. His eyes took turns observing you and the curious box in your arms. “Wha’s that?” he wondered, his words slurred slightly.
“It’s for you.” In a few steps, you were back at his side, giving him the water first for him to drink before settling the Get-Well-Basket at his feet. “From me and all your brothers. To make you feel better.”
It was clear he was confused for a good while. “For…me?” But then, that little glimmer in his eyes returned as he started to rummage through the box. He read a few of the notes, scoffing and tossing most of them aside. Whatever they all had wrote had clearly touched him and made him embarrassed. It seemed as if this idea of yours was a success.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
The demon of greed had to think deeply again before putting the box of gifts on the ground near his bed. He sighed a little, letting his legs leave his chest and go flat under the covers. Mammon hesitated before holding his hand out. “Y…Yo…” Even if he hadn’t fully said it, it was clear what he wanted in his time of need. You.
Something in your chest squeezed. You took Mammon’s hand and pulled him towards you, embracing him in a hug. His weary head rested on your shoulder, his shoulders relaxing, the tension leaving his body as your hand found it’s way between the joints of his wings. “You didn’t have to ask. I’m here whenever you need me. It’s not selfish to want someone by your side when you don’t feel well. And I want to be here...with you.” You could hear his little gasp as you held him, his breathing eventually becoming slower, calmer. With you at his side, he finally had enough peace of mind to relax. “Get some sleep if you can… everybody is waiting for you to get better…”
Mammon was now well on the mend thanks to your efforts. Sprung up like quite the spring chicken with you doting on him. He got his energy back faster than Lucifer did, but his symptoms lingered longer. It was rather amusing actually. Hard to steal stuff while your sniffles give away your location sneaking through the halls. Although, even with two counts of demon-caretaking under your belt and a self-proclaimed gift of healing, you had yet to check up on Wrath. Not to say you didn’t want to, you just… couldn’t. Banned, in fact. Deterred by Lucifer himself. But you just wanted to help. Lucifer was constantly busy, not to mention that his knowledgeable yet vengeful younger brother was expending all his strength that he should’ve used to recover busting the house to pieces in several fever-fueled rampages. It had seemed like the logical choice, and rarely did Lucifer prevent you from keeping an eye on his brothers. So why now of all times?
“He’s being…unreasonable,” was Lucifer’s answer. Out of all the possible reasons, this seemed among the most pathetic. A rearranged ‘because I said so’ with some vagueness sprinkled in. Disappointing.
“If I remember correctly, you were also pretty unreasonable,” you stated, trying to hold back a smirk steadily curling across your lips. He just scowled, glaring you up and down, trying to decide if he abhorred your backtalk or found it endearing. He leaned back in his cushy seat in his study, placing down his much too expensive pen by the pile of work he needed to finish by tonight. Another lecture on getting better rest tickled the back of your throat, tempting you. Recovered or not, he needed to give his body proper sleep lest he fall into another bout of sickness…
“And if I remember correctly, we agreed it would not be discussed again.” His sharp expression softened just a touch, a light shade of pink gracing his cheeks as he recalled how you took care of him in his weakened state. Before he thought about it too hard, he cleared his throat. Staggering hairs were brushed away from his forehead as he folded his arms in front of his chest. It heaved in a sigh. “His body and mind have been considerably weakened, therefore he has little to no control over his anger. He is Wrath, and I shudder to think what may befall you should you try to talk to him right now.” He peered deep into your eyes, taking note of your unwavering stance and stern composition. “And yet I suspect you’re going to go see him anyway.”
Bingo. Your hobby of thrusting yourself into dangerous situations formed another greying hair on Lucifer’s head. With a look equal parts exhaustion and worry, Pride lifted his hand and snapped his gloved fingers. Something in the house shifted. The magical lock placed on Satan’s room was broken for you. Although, Lucifer had to go over some rules, ensuring that, at the very least, Beel would be just outside should anything happen. You were to be whisked out of there at the first trace of danger.
The demon’s door was right in front of you now, and for a second you hesitated. You took a deep breath, clutching to your chest some medicine and a hardcover book from the human world containing old fables. Knowing him, he’d probably read it already, but it was worth a try. You knocked on the door, glancing a look at Beel before loudly stating your presence to the inhabitant of the room. Pushing the door open, you were pleased to find that so far you were unharmed, which was admittedly a great first step.
However, you quickly found yourself awash in a sea of books. A mess in Satan’s room was pretty normal. But this… was on a new scale. Honestly, you were almost impressed. Books and scrolls were haphazardly stacked, covering the floor, basically everywhere. You couldn’t even see his bed, it was hidden somewhere in this labyrinth of tomes. You held your breath, not even daring to breathe for fear everything around you would come tumbling down. The last thing you wanted was to be crushed to death. If the books didn’t kill you, you had a wary feeling Satan might for disturbing his ‘organized library’. So, you carefully weaved your way through slender passageways in the piles before you found, what you assumed, was Satan’s bed.
The reason you could only ‘assume’ is because at this juncture in time it hardly looked like a bed at all. Just a quick glance and it would’ve blended in with any other heap in this room. It was camouflaged with more books, torn pages, binders, pamphlets, a few cat figures, dioramas, etc.. Self reminder to check to see if there were any shows on demon-hoarders in the Devildom…
A jagged green-tipped tail dangled from beneath the bed-pile. It twitched and flicked, sending some novels skidding across the floor. You inhaled deep through your nose.
“Satan? It’s me.”
Satan’s tail whipped across the space between you and the bed. It struck one of the impossibly high stacks of books, sending it teetering and tottering threateningly before it crashed down. If you hadn’t taken a few steps back, you would’ve been one with that pile… You huffed to yourself. Rude… You wanted to help him and this was how he was treating you?
“Satan, please.” A book whizzed past your head and you winced, the sting of a little paper-cut blooming across your cheek. The air in the room was suddenly noticeably hot. You knew these were demons. You knew they were capable of destroying you in seconds, but that didn’t stop your stubborn nature from feeling absolutely offended. And so, as if you had a death wish, you scolded him. “Satan!” You strutted over, throwing the covers back and sending even more clutter to the floor, but at least you could look at him. But a part of you wished you couldn’t.
Teeth were bared as his mouth formed a menacing scowl. Hair was messy and untamed. His eyes were glowing an unnatural green, a lens behind his irises reflecting back at you like a creature in the shadows. A deep resonant rumble emanated from his chest. He looked absolutely feral, but it wasn’t till he pressed himself into the corner of his bed and the wall, knees close to his chest, that you put your fear beside yourself. Yes, at first glance you may have been entirely convinced he was going to tear your throat out, but then you ran your gaze over him a few times… His face was covered in patches of crimson. He was only wearing a green long-sleeved shirt and stripped boxers covered in kittens wearing top-hats. There was a sheet of paper skewered onto one of his horns, and he now was curled up protectively against the wall in a little ball. He was scared.
“Get out,” he demanded. It would’ve been threatening sounding if his lungs didn’t sound as if he swallowed a squeaky toy. He was wheezing, fingertips shaking, his tail protectively curled up against his legs, the tip of it quivering.
To be honest… you wouldn’t leave this room right now for all the Grimm in the Devildom. “I’ll leave after I’m done helping you out a bit,” you assured him, but he didn’t want that answer.
“Get out! Out, out, out!” He clutched another book in his hand and chucked it in your direction with a shout, this time missing you by a mile. You blinked. Was he…having a meltdown?
“Satan, throwing stuff at me isn’t going to make me leave any faster, so cooperate and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.” You smiled softly at him. Wrath had no retort nor nearby ammo left, so he tucked his face into his knees, letting you get to work. It would take you hours to clean the room, but you did what you could for the moment, tidying up at least the chaos surrounding his bed. How he would’ve slept with that mess on him was beyond your understanding. Or maybe that was one of the reasons why he was being so cranky. Books aren’t exactly great nest material.
You shook off his blankets, puffed up his pillow, and then took a hesitant scan at the medicine you’d put on his nightstand. Lucifer had told you where to get it. Supposedly a powerful medication that tasted as bad as the one taking it felt. It was also administered as a liquid, because for all their power, demons hadn’t made capsules a widespread thing yet. You had no idea how you were going to get Satan to take it.
Maybe being sweet first. “Satan,” you cooed, sitting yourself beside him on the bed while he remained curled up in a tight angry ball. “I have some medicin-“
“No.”
Figures, you were reaching with that one. Maybe begging? “Satan, please, please, please, pleaaaaase take-“
“Bite me.”
You scoffed aloud. He was absolutely, without a doubt, being a brat. On par with Belphie right now. You took a moment to recall how you convinced Lucifer and Mammon. Lucifer was only won over when you stood your ground and told him what to do for a change, challenging his pride. Mammon, you went out of your way to get him things, stoking his greed. With wrath…did you? Time to indulge in a little more sin.
“Satan, I swear to the Father above and Diavolo below, if you don’t quit fighting against me when I’m trying to help you, I’m going to shove this entire freaking thing down your throat till it’s the only thing you can taste for decades!” You raised your voice, shouting at him with a fury in your chest you’d never used before, ever. Especially not against Satan. But, against all odds, you were alive, and instead of smoke coming out of his ears, Satan looked up at you from behind messy bangs. Shocked beyond belief, his mouth slightly ajar, he uncurled himself from his position and sat up slowly, his head looking down.
“Tch.” He puffed air through his teeth, giving in finally. Your attempt, while perhaps mediocre without any demonic snarling and mysterious fog, was successful. You hummed to yourself in glee, taking the cap off the bottle and pouring in the medicine. It smelled God-awful, and you felt sympathy for him, but if it was going to make him feel better, he needed it. You held it up to his lips. He growled in frustration but then parted his mouth to let you pour in the foul mixture.
Already pale skin turned even ashier as the glop slid down past the lump in his throat. He looked like he was going to be sick. He slumped his posture and began to release shuddering coughs that nearly turned to gags. You instinctively put a hand on his back, rubbing up and down along the ridge of his spine. Once he was done with the episode, he sat back up, swaying in his seat back and forth until you held onto him, gently bringing him back down onto his pillow. You moved the hair out of his eyes and sighed in relief. Thanks to whatever magic Devildom medicine had, his redness had already gone drastically down, and he looked fairly calm for now. Mellowed out. Some strong stuff…
His eyelids couldn’t decide if they wanted to be open or shut, struggling to fight sleep. “Rest,” you whispered, getting up off his bed, pulling the covers tighter around him, urging him to go to bed. After you helped him, then you would leave him alone, that’s what you promised… even if you desperately wanted to stay. With a little turn, you picked up the book you had brought with you. He grabbed your wrist before you could even attempt to leave. A tilt of the head, and he sleepily read the cover before letting his hand drop back onto the mattress.
“I bought that…for you,” he mumbled. With a grin, you nodded. He had bought it for you during the adventure to London. It was filled with old fairytales and fables, the authentic gruesome kind, not the kind human kids grew up on. Both had their perks in his mind, but Satan seemed particularly fond of the ones that broke free from the stagnant ‘happily ever after’.
“I brought it here for you to read, but you need sleep. Besides you have plenty of other books here…” Your voice trailed off as you reached for his horn that still had the paper stuck to it. You yanked it free with a light chuckle.
“But…” He wanted to argue, but had no energy left to. “Will you…” Satan started, gripping at his own sheets so tight you thought he would rip holes in them. “Read…to me?” Your heart soared so fast you almost went lightheaded. You sat back down on his bed, fussing over him just a bit more, fixing his messy hair. He groaned as you did but let you do it anyway.
“Of course! I’ll read for you whenever, Satan. Whatever makes you feel better.”
“You…” He almost sounded frustrated, like he couldn’t comprehend how you could be so kind especially after the mood he was just in. Then he settled as you flipped the book open to the first page, recounting terribly sad events with a terribly soft voice. Every so often he’d correct you if you fumbled on a word, or correct the inaccuracies of the story itself, but eventually he went to sleep. His eyeballs moved frantically under his eyelids as he slept. His voice would squeak out some incomprehensible word while he dreamt, his fingers twitching in random increments. You noted that his tail that was draped off the side of the bed was now gently curled against your leg. His demonic appendage was rough, sharp in some places, and yet you could hardly feel it with the way he was holding you now. He was comfortable around you.
You used the stray paper that had been on his head as a bookmark, placing the book back on his nightstand for later. “I guess they all get to live happy ever after this time,” you whispered to him in his unconscious state before you pressed the back of your hand against his cheek. Your knuckles tickled his jawline, making his face twitch closer to your hand. “Sweet dreams, Satan. Feel better.”
Lucifer and Mammon were now considered fully healthy and back on their feet with Satan not too far behind them. For a few days, there was hope that the worst was over. It wouldn’t spread any further. The sound of sniffles and the scent of disinfectant wipes would finally dwindle. But, whenever you hope too hard, things always seem to go in the opposite direction. Hopes were dashed when two people were absent from breakfast one morning, and not too long after Satan had finally returned to the table. The twins had never come down from their shared room. For Belphie, this wasn’t something to stop the presses for. Sleeping in and skipping the morning was his whole shtick. His brothers were usually more concerned when Sloth did show up for breakfast. For Beel, however, to miss any sort of meal? Something had to be wrong.
Putting your fork down, you offered to go check on them. After all, morning breakfast was not the same without the two of them. Lucifer was somehow already out of his chair, gently pushing you back to your seat with a single hand on your shoulder. “Please, let me. If they are sick it’s hard telling how they’ll react. They could just as easily be oversleeping.”
You had wanted to protest, but Lucifer was nothing if not the voice of reason. He was right. You had seen Beel’s hunger-driven rampages before. Demonic destruction wasn’t something to sneeze at- no pun intended. Plus, Lucifer was their brother first-and-foremost whilst you were still just some human that had the luxury of living in their home. That fact and the kinder eyes and soft touch Lucifer had given you had won you over to his words. You could trust him to handle this one… He ambled away from the table, and with a few long steps, exited the room.
Asmo was squirming uncomfortably, audibly whining, clearly disturbed. “I was stupid to think this sickness thing was over! With Beel eating everything down to all your leftovers, it’s no wonder he caught your ugly germs! Then he gave it to Belphie, and next you’ll all give it to me!” He pushed his plate away from him, only having a single bite taken out of his meal.
“You don’t know that they’re sick yet,” Mammon rebutted. “And what do you mean my germs are ugly? Everyone’s are!”
“The likelihood that both of them are ill is high.” Satan sighed, putting down his book he had brought with him. After doing his best to tune them out, it just wasn’t working. He still was weaker than he’d like to be, not to mention drained, but a doctor had confirmed that he was no longer contagious and could continue attending his classes at RAD. “The fridge has been abnormally full and I heard plenty of coughing from Belphie the other day.”
An alarming banging sound came from above their heads, little specks of dust from the ceiling floated down, only just visible in the direct light. As if this proved his theory, Satan gestured towards the noise with a raised hand. He held it up for a moment before his arm dropped into his lap. Another loud crash sounded from above, Satan’s eyelid twitching as Lucifer’s booming voice could be heard throughout the house.
This was enough for Asmo to get up from his spot, shaking his head profusely. “I swear if I catch this thing, all of you are absolutely going to have it, you hear me?!” He choked back a sob and went to leave the room, pulling his sleeve down over his hand as he touched the doorknob.
“Oi, where are you going?” Mammon called after him.
“To take a nice hot sanitizing shower!” The demon of lust slammed the door to the dining hall as you watched more dust sprites dance down from the air. They twirled and pirouetted right over Levi. His nose twitched and he raised his elbow to cover his face as he let out a sneeze.
Levi, the only one who had been quiet this far, finally let out a long groan. He glanced down at his hands fearfully, as if they had been covered with blood. “No… No! No, no, no, I’m sick, I knew it! Of course it would be me! I’m gross and miserable and… do you know how long it takes to fully clean a keyboard?!”
Satan rested his head back in his chair, closing his eyes in annoyance. The ruckus upstairs had gotten worse. It was difficult to tell just from audio alone who Lucifer was wrangling. Maybe both Beel and Belphie at once?… Normally, Satan would work on figuring the little mystery out, but it seemed as if he’d met his limit already. People were fist-fighting, two people were having meltdowns, and it was only breakfast. The intellectual usually had no problem going to classes, enjoyed them more than others actually, and yet the look on his face screamed truancy. “Levi, I doubt you’re sick, you never leave your room,” Satan reasoned.
“I told you all, I think he snuck into my room a little while back! One of my figures was moved! I bet Mammon got his sticky fingers over everything! He gave me the cold!”
Add accusations onto the daily list. They all might end up going though their daily atrocities before lunch today. Now the only three brothers left at the table were verbally sparring, one tense word away from physically— You frowned as your food ended up on the far side of the room along with the table. You thought too soon. Unfortunately, this sort of scenario happened often. So, you excused yourself, knowing none of them were listening, expertly dodging a plate as it whirled past. The dish struck against the wall a few inches from you, luckily not shattering. It clattered to the floor as a waffle slowly slid downwards. While you were still unharmed and food-free, you left the dining room. After wandering the halls trying to find a safe and silent place, you sat yourself on the stone steps of the entryway. You’d just wait for the multiple battles to die down. There was screaming downstairs, crashing upstairs, the whole house in chaos once again.
“Demons…” you sighed.
--
Lucifer confirmed it. Beel and Belphie…both of them had caught the cold, and the eldest had spent the past hour or so attempting to force them into taking some medicine. He had succeeded naturally, and you shuddered a bit to think about the sort of tactics he employed, but when all was said and done, he had taken the time to seek you out. It was clear to you that even with all his power and prowess…he was exhausted. With Beel’s physical power and Belphie’s cunning, it seems even Pride had broken a bit of a sweat. There was still plenty of Student Council catchup to be done too… and now he had the twin’s work to start on. He needed a helping hand, and while he didn’t express it bluntly, he did ask for your assistance.
Apparently they were calm now, the medicine lulling and sedating them, so you could see them freely without worry of them tearing you or the house apart. Lucifer still addressed you with a bit of concern. “You’ve been on the brunt of all of this.” On one hand, he appreciated the work you had done. On the other… “I’m concerned for your health. Diavolo was fairly confident you couldn’t get infected, but we still don’t know for certain…” His voice drifted, slightly disappointed in himself, feeling like there was more he should be doing. “Regardless, the last thing we need is for you to fall ill as well.” You persuaded him that if you hadn’t gotten sick yet, you were sure you were immune. You’d been in direct contact with nearly all of them and hadn’t so much as sneezed. Lucifer wasn’t entirely convinced, obviously mentally preparing for the worst of outcomes, but he let you do what you needed to do. And that was taking care of the two youngest.
Homemade soup; the medicine for the soul or so people said. Something comforting and filling yet easy for the stomach. With Satan’s assistance, you concocted the most soothing meal you had ever made. Two steaming bowls were settled on an elegant silver tray and brought it up to the twins room. The door to their bedroom had a golden emblem ingrained in the wood. A moon encircling a sun, resembling the same individual symbols above both their beds. You carefully balanced the tray on your hip for just a moment as you softly tapped your knuckles against the smooth wood. Unlike the other brothers you had cared for so far, someone actually opened the door for you for a change.
Beel looked down at you, eyes heavy and slightly reddened. He was wearing a faded orange t-shirt and some black shorts. Heat radiated off of him in nauseating droves. If you had thought the other brothers had burnt up, nothing compared to Beel’s temperature. Even just standing beside him made you dizzy. As if hellfire was roaring through his veins. His shirt stuck to the skin around his torso, sweat beading down his forehead. His abs and muscles were clearly shown through the fabric, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed one of his eyes with a hand, not even focusing on the soup bowls. “MC, what’re you doing here?”
You lifted up the tray with both hands and presented the meal you made with him. The creamy broth with hearty vegetables and noodles would surely make him feel better. “Soup!” You exclaimed quietly, feeling a mite proud of what you’d created. “You never came down for breakfast so…” You must be hungry, you kept the last part to yourself.
He frowned deeply, being rather dismissive. “I’m not hungry, and Belphie’s asleep.” A simple glance past Beel’s body confirmed that there was indeed a lump in Belphie’s bed. Many lumps in fact. There must’ve been plenty new additions to his pillow collection. “I’m sorry you went through the trouble,” Beel sighed, his arm raised to shut the door. Your attention snapped away from Belphie, back to the demon at hand. Was he shutting you out? Really? He had never done that, ever. All of his other brothers, sure, but him? He always had his door and his arms wide open for you at all times. Your leg served as a quick wedge, feeling your knee temporarily painfully pressed between door and frame. As soon as he realized he was hurting you, the door was thrown back open.
“Beel wait, please, you haven’t eaten all day! How are you going to give your body enough strength to heal if you don’t give it any fuel?” You looked up at him expectantly, trying to convey the care and worry you held for him through your eyes. Beel always advocated for taking care of your body. Those words you shared were the ones he had used on you once before. He was somehow always aware of what you had eaten and when. Same for his brothers. Sure, his sin might take over and he might accidentally eat your food, but he still determined to make sure everyone he cared for was well fed. It was about time you returned the favor.
“But the medicine…” He pressed one hand to his gut, his nose wrinkling up at the mention of food. His normally sturdy legs wobbled as he stumbled a bit, gripping the end of the door-frame for balance. The usual glow in his countenance had gone dull. It broke your heart. Beel seemed to always be strong, always be positive, always have a smile on his face when it came to food and family. Now, he just seemed out of it, eager to head back to bed with both you and proper sustenance on the other side of the door. Curse this tray for occupying both of your hands. You wanted to go wrap him up in your arms and make him feel protected and cared for… even if he was much bigger than you were.
“The medicine might be why you feel sick to your stomach in the first place. You didn’t happen to eat anything before Lucifer gave it to you, did you?” Your words brought his eyes up from staring at the floor and back to you. Orange strands of his hair were freed from the skin on his forehead as he shook his head to your question. An answer wasn’t quite necessary anyway, from the fighting you heard and Lucifer’s brief description, the older brother forced the medicine down both the twins throats before they had a chance to protest. You lifted the tray back up near Beel’s face. The contents of the bowls sloshed enough to almost drip over the edge. “You might feel better if you eat. Even just a little? I… made it for both of you.”
It wasn’t often you attempted to employ the puppy-eyed look. However, it seemed necessary in this instance. All these demons were weak to you, and you knew it. You could only hope it was enough this time… Beel was stuck having an intense internal debate. The door in his hand was creaking open and shut while he decided if he wanted to let you in or not. If he wanted to eat or not… Your heart sank as he seemed to come to the conclusion to prevent you from entering, the door almost clicking back into place to leave you in an empty hallway. If this was what he wanted, could you really change his mind? Just as you were about to leave, the door was pulled back wide open, his eyes a little watery as he made it up in his mind that he could never shut you out like that. Your chest swelled as he let you in, shutting the door quietly behind you.
The room was almost consumed in pitch darkness as soon as the entrance closed. The only light source seemed to be coming from Beel’s side of the room emanating from the screen of his D.D.D. on his nightstand. Crossing the room, you waited until the demon climbed back onto his mattress, sitting up while he pulled the covers over his legs. Not wanting to speak as to disturb Belphie, you extended one finger from the tray handle and pointed at his bed as a question. As he nodded, you settled by his hip, placing the tray on his lap. His blankets were soft, and with a stroke of your hand, you smoothed out some of the wrinkles.
The sight of the soup made Beel grimace at first. He was hesitant, but it was clear he was starving. His sin was tearing him up inside. He was only prolonging the pain. “Is my cooking really that bad?” You frowned, embarrassed, unsure if his reaction was towards your talents in the kitchen or the state of his sickly body.
“No, it’s not that. I just…” Gluttony couldn’t quite find the words to describe what he was feeling. But you understood well enough. You’d been sick before in your life. You knew what it was like to feel the hunger pains alongside the nausea. Eating made you feel worse. Not eating made you feel like hell. He must be miserable. This was probably a rare feeling for him.
“Take it slow,” you whispered, your hand coming up to rub his shoulder.
After taking a minute to mentally prepare, he took your advice to heart, starting with a simple spoonful. He blew away the steam and took the smallest bite- or slurp- you’d ever seen him have. He chewed on some of the softened vegetables before swallowing. There was no need to ask how it was. His head raised back up, small tears making their way down his cheeks. He leaned in towards you, his chin almost resting on your shoulder. “It’s…so delicious. May I…eat it?”
You chuckled, grinning with relief as a little bit of color came back to his face, his expression not looking so pained. Sounded like he was already breathing easier too. “Yes, Beel, I made it for you.”
He sat up away from you, the happy glow returned to his eyes as he went to work not only downing the bowl for him, but the bowl for Belphie as well. You made a mental note to come take care of the other twin later. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up sleeping for days on end like he’d been known to do a few times before… With one of the twins looking already worlds better with some warm food in his stomach, you went to go stand up to leave, but two big arms wrapped around your body to hold you in place. The hot skin on Beel’s cheek pressed against your forehead as he sighed in relief.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
You rested your head against his chest as he held you even tighter. “You’re welcome, Beel. I’ll be your personal chef till you feel better.”
With a contented sigh, Beel buried his nose in your hair, his hands gripping your shirt. He leaned back against his headboard, bringing you along with him as you almost laid on top of him. It didn’t seem like he was going to let you go anytime soon. He closed his eyes and with one hand he flipped his D.D.D over so there was nothing but blackness in the room. Relaxed lungs brought in deep even breaths. He was still ridiculously hot, but not unbearably so anymore. His words devolved into sleepy mumbles. “You’re so much better than any food in the world…”
The twins were sick, Lucifer was working himself ragged, and the rest of the brothers were avoiding their siblings like…well…like the plague. You never initially intended to become a nurse, but how could you sit by and do nothing while the demons around you that you had come to care for suffered? And, if you were being honest with yourself, you were thankful that there was something you could do to help around for once. It wasn’t often at all where you were put in a situation where you could be the protector, the helper, the one they relied on. However, as much as you liked that feeling, you hoped this spreading sickness would end with Beel and Belphie. The constant care you were dishing out was starting to leave you more exhausted than normal.
Telling anyone about your state though would most likely end in immediate termination of your new career in demon caretaking. So you kept it to yourself. These brothers were now leaning on you harder than ever, including the ones who had already been sick. Just the thought of all their faces, pale and sick in bed, lighting up at the sight of you entering the room as you pet their heads sent tingles down your spine. You wanted to take care of them…all of them, forever.
You violently shook your own head as you gripped the handle to your bedroom. What am I thinking? Is the Florence Nightingale trope really true? The door gently creaked open as you stepped inside.
Eternal moonlight had it perks, but being able to tell time was never one of them. What hour was it now? Your day had been occupied fulfilling several requests from the many members of the household. The typically hungry demon would now only eat food you made for him, and while you did promise to be his personal chef, it was beginning to overwhelm you. Not only chef, but you’d been hired in several other new ‘departments’. You’d become the new mailman, bringing packages from the front door to the otaku with severe hypochondriac tendencies. The librarian and storyteller for the bookworm who was milking his symptoms for as long as he could, partially because he truly enjoyed your company, but also because he enjoyed his brother’s complaints as he kept you to himself. The beauty product tester and fashion assistant for Asmo who refused to let any of his brothers touch him with a ten foot pole. The lawyer for Mammon who was apparently determined to get himself into trouble more so than not lately. And also Lucifer’s new temp secretary. You had so many reminders set on your phone for things he needed to get done. But the eldest was determined not to let things fall apart just because a few of his brothers were ill.
Should you be getting paid for this?…
Tired feet were dragged across the floor of your bedroom as you made your way towards your bed. It called to you; a sleepy siren’s song. The blankets reminiscent of a sweet melody, the pillows the alluring notes. With the last of your energy, you swiftly kicked off your shoes, letting them roll and settle crookedly on the hardwood floor. You let yourself fall face first onto your bed, the springs bouncing you up and down gently from the sudden impact. A moan escaped your lips, one you never had the intention for, but your body betrayed you. Laying down felt nice… Rain and wind outside started to kick up, the sound brushing and pouring against your window. It was like the night was comforting you, the weather speaking to you softly. It’s okay to get some rest.
Without bothering to change into pajamas, you crawled under your covers, pulling the blanket tightly near your face. Muscles and joints in your body started to ache, and you furrowed your brows as you shut your eyes. Had you really worked all that much? What exactly did you do that forced your body to feel this sore? You let out a sigh and brushed your cheek against your pillow. Already, the back of your mind was buzzing with sleep, and even if you tried to come up with some specific answer explaining why your body hurt in places you didn’t even know existed, you wouldn’t be able to. This would probably been the fastest you fell asleep in a long time, conking out without a second thought.
—-
Fire haunted your dreams that night, the heat making you lightheaded. Your subconscious body struggled to navigate the obstacles of this place. The House of Lamentation was on fire, by reasons unknown, as dreams often do. You were frantically looking for the brothers, your mind thoroughly convinced they all still resided inside. Lips moved as you could’ve sworn you were screaming their names, but the roaring sounds of the flames muffled your voice. No matter how hard you squeezed your lungs, no sound came out. You felt yourself collapse to the ground, unable to move. You were hot. Too hot. You-
A low scraping noise shocked your body awake. It took you a moment to reel in reality, to settle yourself back into your senses, the dream drifting far behind you now. A squeak sounded. A harsh squealing grind of two hard surfaces rubbing against each other. It left a strange feeling in your teeth and pumped your mind with adrenaline. You sat up in bed immediately, the alarm for danger blaring on high alert.
It was hard to see through all the darkness. Clouds had covered the moonlight, leaving little to no light to guide your way. The only thing you could see with your adjusting vision was a shadow creeping around your room. It staggered. Drifting around as if searching for something, a deep inhuman growl rumbling through it’s disfigured body. Your fingers trembled as the sound echoed in your mind. How had it gotten in the house? There were no distinct features you could make out, the creature didn’t have any limbs. It was one giant blob, dragging itself across the floor, moving and knocking over the chairs in your room as it did so. That must’ve been the cause of the sound that woke you up. Was it hunting for something?…
A few options for survival bubbled up in your mind. Screaming for help wasn’t a smart decision. One loud noise, and the creature would more than likely beeline it straight for you. Besides, with the demon brother’s sporadic schedules, you weren’t sure anyone would hear you anyway. Your room was all the way down near the kitchen…your roommates blissfully asleep upstairs. You had half a mind to text someone to save you, but if you got caught in the light from your screen, that might also cause an instant game over. However, that did remind you to lean over to put your device on silent. You would not be that stupid survivor in the horror trope that got killed due to a notification. Oh, if only you had given in to Lucifer’s odd request to install some sort of security system. You had denied it. Said it sounded more like a baby monitor than anything else. Now look where it got you.
The intruder seemed distracted and confused, just as blinded as you were in the darkness. Maybe you could make a run for it… it seemed rather sluggish. But assuming things could get you killed. But what other options did you have?… Right now, the thing was finally drifting away from the table and towards the middle of the room, inching ever closer to your bed. The luxury of time was not something you had. It was settled. You’d book it out of here and run to someone else’s room… Just look for an opportunity… The wailing mass was getting closer. Just a few more seconds. Your heart was rattling harder than the wind against your windows. Just a little bit farther! Heat was waving off the creature and onto you, reminding you of your dream. It moaned unnaturally, shuffling slowly, wandering without a purpose. You quietly swung your legs over the end of the bed so you could finally make your dash to freedom. The blood pumping through your head was deafening.
A thud reverberated throughout the room, making you jump, freezing your body in place. The creature had collapsed on your floor. It slowly squirmed, writhing, it’s shape melting away before a humanoid hand poked out of it’s frame.
“O…w…”
The familiar voice washed over you in a refreshing shower of familiarity. You pressed a hand to your chest as you took in a deep relaxing breath. Although you didn’t waste too much time before rushing to the floor, kneeling beside the shape. The shell it had shed felt soft. You grabbed the surface with both of your hands, peeling it back to reveal a confused disoriented demon.
“Belphie…” You nearly went off on him, ready to spend the rest of the night giving him a Lucifer-style lecture. But, too tired to do something like that, you simply wrapped your arms around the seventh brother. Eyes rolled in your head, embarrassed and annoyed by your own paranoia and stupidity. Although that sort of paranoia had let you live in the Devildom thus far. That and a ridiculous amount of luck… Though if the other brothers found out you mistook Belphie and a puffy duvet for some sort of lumbering undead slug-monster, they would never let you live it down. Speaking of which…you suddenly remembered that he’d taken quite a tumble. “Are you okay?” He never answered, but you quickly found the source of his fall. The shoes you had left haphazardly on the floor. You bit your lip in a bit of shame. Before they could claim another victim, you snagged your shoes and tucked them away in a not so trippable place. Then you returned your focus near the lump. “Belphie? What’re you doing here?” You placed a soft hand on his shoulder, although as you did, you nearly reeled back. Sloth was burning up.
“…anna…o…ome…” He mumbled, not focused on you at all, his eyes were even still closed. Chipped nails clawed at your rugs, pushing himself on his arms just to collapse again. Your chest squeezed as you grabbed his arms. Convinced he was still asleep, you tried shaking him, feeling the palms of your hands tingle against his unhealthy and infernal temperature.
“Belphie!”
None of your attempts to wake him up were working, so you turned your attention to the only thing you could do. Bringing his heat down. The blanket you had tried tugging off of him was somehow twisted around his limbs. After turning him on his back, you worked on unraveling him, feeling his hands paw at your body. He was deep in some fever dream, one bad scene away from thrashing… Frantically, you plucked a pillow from off your own bed and tucked it under his head. You brushed sticky strands of hair off his forehead, watching him mumble some more.
“..illith…Beel…”
Might as well have heard your own heart crack right then, but you couldn’t let it get to you. Feeling against the walls, you moved around your room till you found the light switch. Once you could see, you went right to work. Thankfully, due to your efforts before, you now kept extra medicine and supplies in your room. It was actually Satan who suggested it, and while you thought it had been a silly idea, now you were grateful.
When you returned to Belphie’s side with all your items, you almost regretted turning the light on. Panting, his mouth open to try and breathe, lips so dry they were nearly bloody. His skin was covered in splotches of color, sweat dripping from his forehead, yet he couldn’t stop shivering. You placed a bowl of water, rags, medicine, bottles of water, and a glass of only ice beside you on the floor. As soon as you returned to his vicinity, his limbs moved to get up again. You settled a rag in the water then gently pushed him back to the floor with a single hand. He contorted and attempted to roll as you quickly wrung out the rag, pressing it against his forehead, keeping him against the ground using your own body. In only a few seconds, the cloth was completely warm. You dipped it back in, feeling a bit of panic rise in your lungs as Belphie continued to pant.
“Breathe…Belphie, breathe.” You rubbed his chest as you held him down, cooling off his face and neck with the damp cloth. You didn’t know how long you kept up this motion. Comfort, dip, cool. Soothe, wipe, cool. Over and over as the fire in him refused to leave. He needed to wake up to take the medicine, you weren’t sure you could get it down his throat in this condition. You let your hand drift from his chest for just a second to check your D.D.D. It was now four in the morning. A full hour of this, by your estimations. Should you text someone? Were you doing the right thing? Were you just making things worse? You fought with yourself and your emotions for a few more minutes, but then felt your worry assuage. It seemed as if he broke though the worst all in a second. Belphie’s breathing wasn’t as ragged as he no longer gasped for breath. He was still moving a bit though, wearily and weakly.
“Ahh…haah…” He wheezed, and for what felt like the hundredth time, you rubbed his cheeks with the wet fabric, brushing your hand back and forth across his chest. He raised his arms and grabbed your shirt and sleeve, trying to pull you close in his sleep.
“Shh, it’s alright.” His hands were trembling against you, but finally, he seemed to hear your words. The smallest slit of his eyes was visible as he did his best to open them.
“M…C…”
Overjoyed tears stung your eyes. The rag in your hand dropped to the floor as you caressed his face with your hands. He still wasn’t quite awake or aware, but he was attentive enough to try to pull himself up, still clutching tightly onto your clothes. The first thing on your mind was medicine. You filled up the measured cap and brought it to him, tilting his head back with the brace of one of your hands. Thankfully--or perhaps worriedly--he took it without questioning it. He grimaced a little, but the bitter and awful taste of the medicine brought him more into reality.
“Where?” He released your sleeve as he rubbed his eyes.
“That’s not important right now, can you stand? We should get you to bed.” You stroked his head, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He just nodded, and with your assistance, he almost managed to fully stand. To keep from falling over, he leaned his body against you. It was all you could do to keep from collapsing yourself. Fortunately, your bed was right here, and you let him plop into your space. A sigh left his shallow lungs.
With what little energy he had left, he practically clawed himself towards the far side of the bed turning in several agonizing increments to face you. He held out his hands and squeaked out your name. “MC…”
Your emotions hitched in your chest as you watched him beg for you. There was still a mess on the floor… but you left it where it was as long as the universe was done sending demons tumbling through your room. You rushed over to the light switch and turned the brightness off. You slid into the extra space Belphie left for you, taking him into your arms and feeling him immediately get comfortable. At least he was no longer boiling. He was a little too warm, but nothing life threatening.
He curled up by your side, as you pulled up the covers over both of you. With a few sleepy nudges, he had his head tucked under your chin. You could hear air rattle around in his chest, so you reached around his body and rubbed his back, and in return, he squeezed you like one of his many pillows. All at once, the adrenaline and panic left your body, leaving you winded and exhausted. You were unsure if it was Belphie’s Sin or simply your body at it’s breaking point, but you couldn’t keep yourself awake any longer. Before you could make sure he fell asleep first, your eyelids crashed closed as you passed out next to him.
Normalcy slowly began to trickle back into the House of Lamentation. The twins were feeling better, most everyone was returning to classes, routines were falling back into place. Everyone was finally convinced this was all over. Even Lucifer, who liked to account for the worst, was acting rather optimistic lately. Although you yourself, who had loved soaking up every sickly cuddle and embarrassing (and rather blackmailable) favors, was secretly a bit disappointed. It was great that they were all doing better! But…perhaps part of you liked feeling needed.
Lucifer, Mammon, and Satan, were all well past this illness, and with Levi and Asmo doing everything they could to avoid their siblings, it was assumed that this misadventure had burnt itself out with the twins. Although, one person in the household was determined not to let this go. Levi was doing his best to convince everyone that he was extremely ill.
“I searched my symptoms on SpiderWeb MD! If I’m not sick I’ve been cursed and I only have a few days left to live!” he would complain. His siblings were all convinced that Envy had caught nothing but a terrible case of hypochondria. At one point, he’d even sent his last will through the group chat should he perish an untimely demise. A lot of his stuff went to you, which was deeply touching considering he had a hard enough time letting you look at his stuff much less touch it. Music records would go to Lucifer, manga to Satan, cosplay outfits to Asmo, his special snacks to Beel, and his body pillows to Belphie. Nothing was left for Mammon, which caused a small riot in itself.
It had been several days since anyone had seen or heard any trace of Levi. Everything he needed could be ordered on Akuzon, and he’d been taking classes exclusively online. It got to the point where everyone had been certain he’d never leave his room again. Of course, the eldest had checked on his little brother regardless, but he’d been written off with a clean bill of health. After that, Lucifer had been convinced he was just craving attention. Levi would hole himself away over the vaguest sign of symptoms and not come out till he was ready. No one believed him. For a while, they had you convinced as well, assuring you that he hadn’t been sick for centuries. There was nothing to be worried about. However, you still carried that worry with you, that infuriating kind of angelic trust that drove the brothers crazy. But ‘what if’, you wondered, what if he’s sitting in his room right now with no one to help him?
The only semblance of interaction you’d had with Levi in the past week was dropping off his Akuzon packages to the front of his door. You’d knock, be forced to ramble off an impossibly confusing password, and then leave for him to drag his packages inside. The first time you’d done it, you’d waited, only to watch him pop his head meekly out the door. Upon seeing you, he squeaked and promptly slammed the door shut. Now he would wait for you to fully depart before grabbing his loot. But today, you were determined to see him. Sure he was a demon, sure everyone had promised he was fine, but something left you uneasy. You needed to see with your own eyes that he was okay.
Making your way down the hall, continuously shifting your arms to keep things balanced, you approached Levi’s room with several packages in hand. The number of items he purchased was getting larger and more concerning with each delivery. Seeing as your hands were occupied, you gently kicked his door three times with the tip of your shoe. You crouched down low near the floor, placing his items neatly in a pile. Stiffly, you uttered the strange password Levi encouraged you to memorize to confirm the drop-off and assure him there was no one else in sight.
“The water dragon, caretaker of the mystic lakes, looks up to the heavens…” You paused, waiting for his response. A few seconds. Then a minute. You couldn’t help but raise a brow as a little jolt went through your chest with worry. Typically by now, Levi would be in the middle of his segment of the password. This all was routine. Taking a few steps forward, you pressed your ears to the cold wood of his door. All was silent. From the top? You walked a few steps away just to round the door again, making your footsteps heavier, louder. Then you attempted the entire process again. Using your fist this time, you knocked loudly against the entrance to his fortress of solitude. Uttering the incantation once more, you found yourself almost shouting the code phrase. There was still no response.
Throwing caution to the wind, you gave yourself access into his room. You winced once the light from inside hit your face, expecting some sort of curse or hex to flood your body. Air soothed your lungs when you discovered you were relatively unharmed. It didn’t require any amount of searching to locate the demon. Curled up, in demon form…at the bottom of his fish tank. Of course, you knew these people were not quite people, but that didn’t stop your stomach from flipping and your human brain to somersault over itself in panic. That wasn’t normal! You stammered over your words, dashing forward to press your palms against the glass.
“Levi! What the-” You cut yourself off as you looked around for anything that could assist you with this…emergency. Underwater! He was underwater!
How many times have you been scolded for acting before thinking? Too many to count, especially down here where the wrong misstep could kill you easily. Did you still end up jumping into the fish tank? Yes. Yes, you did. Using Levi’s desk and shelves, you climbed up, throwing your body into the water. It wasn’t as cold as you expected it to be based on how chilly Levi kept his room. It was a bit nippy, but nothing terrible. You sunk down, grabbing the horns sticking from Levi’s head. God, how were you going to pull him out of here? This tank was the size of his wall! As soon as you began to tug on the horns, Levi’s eyes snapped open. His tail wrapped around your waist once he recognized your face. You ended up getting flung out of the tank, dangling in the air a few inches above the ground as the chill of the oxygen on your wet skin formed goosebumps all over your body. Levi gripped the edge of the glass.
“What?! I-I- that was totally- MC! I can’t believe-” He settled you to the ground as he climbed his way out of the water, almost slipping and falling from the tank. A large pool formed on the floor beneath your feet. As he tried to find his words, gasping in shock at finding you in Henry 2.0’s tank, he started coughing. He bowled over, his arm covering his mouth as his lungs squeaked and wheezed as he seemed to cough uncontrollably. Levi’s chest began convulsing so painfully, tears started speckling from his eyes, only to get swept up into the moisture already streaming down his face. His tail, still around your body, clutched to you tighter, like an involuntary form of comfort for him.
“Levi…” You approached the demon of Envy, both of you dripping wet, and you pressed your forehead to his. Despite having soaked in water for however long he had been in there, he was burning. His little gasp at your form of contact drove him further into his coughing fit. You apologetically rubbed his back, helping him catch his breath while you scrambled around to get dry clothes, nearly losing your footing on the wet tile.
“Don’t!” He pleaded with you as you pulled open his drawers.
“You need dry clothes, you’ll get even sicker if you’re soaking!” His face started to flush as some color came to his cheeks. He had yet to relinquish his tail from around your person, wrapping around you tightly like the firm squeeze of a hug, following you around like a drenched puppy. “Why in the world were you in the fish tank anyway?!” A proper scolding was in order. After all, how ridiculous had that been? “I was worried you’d drowned…” You muttered that last part to yourself as you plucked out a t-shirt with the decal on the front from some anime you couldn’t recall. A random pair of shorts was added to the mix, throwing the dry outfit to him alongside a much needed towel. Clutching the articles of clothing to his chest, he blushed even harder. The muscles of his tail forced you to turn with your face to the wall as you felt the soft scales finally slink away. You could hear him stumble around as he struggled to get himself dressed. He wasn’t acting like normal.
At that moment, all the guilt that had been building up these past few days washed over you. He really had been sick after all. How long had he been here alone, taking care of himself because no one would believe him enough to take care of him? But Lucifer had said he’d been checked… Did he get sick after that? Or was there something someone missed? Although, the when didn’t quite matter now. No chance fretting too much over something you couldn’t change. You had the chance to help him now.
“I was hot…” Levi answered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Then next time hop in the bath! Don’t go scuba diving in a fish tank! A fish tank, Levi!”
It was as if you could feel him wincing at your firm words. It wasn’t often you raised your voice at them. Envy wasn’t taking the tone too well, shuddering as he inhaled broken quivering breaths. He didn’t have an answer for you on why he made the decision he did. Rationalization probably went out of his mind once the fever set in. Had he really been that hell-bent on not leaving his room? “You can…look now.” Turning away from the wall, you found yourself tutting. Levi had put the clothes over his wet form, the towel simply lying on top of his head, the horns holding it comically up away from his body.
“…I should’ve been here to help you.” You placed your hands over the dry cloth, getting it away from his branching horns, gently rubbing into his skin. Too weak to shoo you away or say anything about it, he simply covered his face with his hands as you used the towel to dry him off. “But I’m here now…and you don’t have to worry as long as I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” You started with his hair, working your way down to his arms. Your gentle motions, your soft tone, your overall comfort, it was enough to weaken his walls of anxiety. A few steps and he was right next to you. He slumped, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. Your skin was still cool from the water, and he sighed as his forehead came into contact with it. His tail ended up curling around you once more, clutching your torso tightly as he gripped onto your clothes. “Come on,” you urged him, leading him over to his bedding. It was better than the fish tank only by a small margin, containing a ton of pillows and several plush blankets to act as a cushion inside. At least it was dry…
“Sorry…” Levi gasped, as he lifted himself into his nest. The tickle of his word turned into more harsh coughs. You leaned over the porcelain walls of the tub to pet his head. He nearly melted into your hands. He curled up, nestling further into the cushions as you pulled a blanket partially over him.
“Don’t be sorry. I should be sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you, I should’ve been by your side by square one. That’s what people who care about you do…” You gave him a sweet smile as he teared up a little, pulling a body pillow close to his chest as he covered his face. He simply gave you a hum in response. “I’ll go get some medicine and bring in those packages for you, and then I’ll be right back.” Taking a step back, you felt the tail wrapped around your body gripping you tighter. “Levi,” you cooed, petting the smooth scales with your hand. “I’ll be right back, let me go.” He reluctantly complied, silently pulling his tail into the tub with him, curling around his own body for support. Running your fingers through your still wet hair, you went back out to the hall, dragging Levi’s packages into his room before setting off to grab some medicine. A quick sneeze shuttered your body, leaving you lightheaded as you leaned against the wall to keep yourself upright. A chill ran through your spine. Shaking your head, you picked up the pace to your bedroom to change into warm and dry clothes.
As soon as you were no longer dripping, you grabbed the medicine bottle from off the table in your room. Collectively, the household had almost gone through the entire container, leaving only a few servings left. You bit your lip and then briskly headed back to Levi. In the short amount of time you’d been gone, it seemed as if he already drifted off to sleep. You shut the door behind you as softly as you could manage, then came over to the sleeping otaku. All these demons, you recalled, claimed to be so scary and intimidating, yet all of them managed to look something like this. Levi was clutching his tail, his forehead pressed against the coolness of the side of the tub. It felt like a crime to wake him, but you brushed your hand against his cheek anyway.
“Levi… Levi?” You called, watching his eyelids flitter as they slowly opened. “Here, take this, it’ll help you feel better.” You held a capful of the remedy to his lips. A flicker of stubbornness and defiance flashed in his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t say no to you, especially with how nicely you were treating him. He’d take it with a smile if you had asked him too. Placing the medicine aside, you turned down the lights in his room, watching the reflection of the water dance across the ceiling. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Levi?”
You heard him squeak before he spoke. “You cuddled with each of my brothers…”
Stifling a chuckle, you merely blinked at him. “You want me to cuddle with you?”
He used his arm to cover his eyes. “Y-you said it, not me!”
“Move over then,” you grinned, lifting your leg over the lid of the tub to make your way in. It was a bit awkward, being a bathtub and all. There wasn’t as much space as you expected. The sloped sides guided you into Levi’s body, where you could feel every muscle inside him tense. “Alright, here we go, sleep will make you feel better.” You rested your head right next to his, noses almost touching. His lip twitched in embarrassment, but once more he pressed his forehead against your neck, exhaling deeply as he allowed his body to relax. “There you go…” You rubbed his back as he got in close. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Time as Levi’s nurse passed fairly quickly. Apparently regular doses of constant attention was the best kind of medicine for a touch-starved demon. He was still weaker than anyone would enjoy, but he was back in front of his screens in no time. Although, every so often he’d give you a side glance and rattle his body with a loud cough. Sometimes he would do this and cause the other previous afflicted to do the same. You’d even caught Lucifer clearing his throat in your vicinity once. They were all milking this to the last drop. Aside from the pseudo-symptoms, at last, it was all over. Surely, tonight you’d finally let your sore exhausted body get some rest with the relief in knowing that whatever demon illness had been plaguing the brothers was finally gone… Even cases in the Devildom were dropping. The whispers at RAD were returning to normal discussions. The worst was over.
That was… until everyone in the House of Lamentation was awoken one night to a blood-curdling scream. You awoke in a sweat, hair on your arms standing up on end. Before you could comprehend anything, you dashed out to the hallway, apparently the last to join the stunned members of the household. Mammon was still attempting to find balance on his feet, cursing about one of his legs being asleep. Levi rubbed his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He was supposed to be regaining his strength. Satan looked more intrigued than anything. Beel was ready for action, but, surprisingly enough, Belphie looked more awake than anyone before you. These were his hours, you supposed. Lucifer was a strange combination of furious due to having his rest be interrupted--he barely gets enough as it is--and concerned.
“MC…” The eldest instinctively took a step towards you. “Oh, thank Diavolo,” he sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead, quelling the stress headache, thankful you weren’t the cause of the haunting wail. “We’ve got…” He began the head check, ushering his brothers closer to him much like a teacher making sure the whole class was there for the field trip. The realization hit you at the same moment it hit him. “Asmo.” No one hesitated in dashing to his room, the adrenaline pumping in you more as the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood reached your ears. Worry clamped your throat shut, forgetting how to properly breathe as the group sprinted down the halls.
Mammon was the first to reach the door, throwing all caution to the wind as he immediately kicked the wood in. The entrance hit the floor with a loud bang, coming clean off it’s hinges, and you attempted to peer in. A firm hand grabbed you by the back of the collar and yanked you back. Lucifer pulled you behind his body. Just in time too, for just at that moment, an entire dresser launched itself from the bedroom, smacking against Mammon, pinning him against the back wall of the hallway. Every square inch of you was desperate to scream, to run to Greed, but the demon of pride had you held tightly against his body. Mammon got up off the floor, shaking his head. There were no visible injuries, in fact, he was barely even bothered, just frustrated.
“For the love of... Asmo!” The second brother growled, and another shriek echoed through the halls, shaking the windows. You brought your hands up to cover your ears, and Lucifer quickly handed you off to Levi.
“What’s happening?” The strength of your legs began to waver, and, for a split second, the eldest’s eyes grew wide at your distress. Of course you wouldn’t know, how could you? Sometimes he forgets you’re only a human.
Placing a gentle hand on your head, he let out another sleep-deprived groan, pinching the bridge of his nose whilst his siblings dashed into the chaos. “It’s what we all feared. Asmo has fallen ill. It happens once every few centuries, and every time it happens, it gets—“ Something else broke to pieces, shrapnel embedding itself in the door-frame. A mess. “Stay with Levi. We’ll work on calming him down.” With that, he turned and swiftly joined the fray. A swirl of blue magic surrounded the door, lifting it from it’s position, settling back against the frame to shield you out while shouts and bangs rattled the ground. All you could do was blink in frightful awe and flinch at every awful sound.
“C-come on, it’s best if we go…N-now. Like, right now,” Levi breathed, his voice shaking with terror. You raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together why he sounded as if he was in danger.
You didn’t have the time to question why. The wall separating the room from the hallway nearly crumbled, bricks and rubble coating the floor. Peachy eyes glowed harshly against the dark of night. “Levi…” The figure growled maliciously as the dust settled. “You did this to me…you all did this to me!” Ah, right. Of course the blame would lie with the most recently infected. And now you were standing right next to the target.
“Oi!”
In a swirl of motion, demons rushed to tackle him down, but not before the person behind the destruction began to lunge in yours and Levi’s direction. The third-born twisted his body, beginning to pull you behind him to shield you, but your body moved almost on its own. Tugging yourself out of Levi’s grip, you moved forward with an outstretched arm. “Asmo!” The palm of your hand came into contact with his chest. You felt the frantic beating of his heart. Everything seemed to stop all at once. The rampage put itself at pause as Asmo looked at you with wide eyes, his hands still raised, razor sharp claws atoms away from brushing against your skin. With your hand on his chest, you could tell that he’d stopped breathing. You took this moment to observe his face. Nose red, eyes puffy from angry tears, overall looking drained, missing vibrancy. The glimmer you so often associated with Asmo was gone.
The demon of lust took one last moment to recollect his thoughts, gathering back his composure before giving a loud horrified gasp of a breath before his knees gave out, his body collapsing to the floor.
--
“Absolutely, positively, one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made!” You’d beg to differ, there was a list of misadventures you could bring to the table, but now was definitely not the time for that. “Did you even think?!” You tried to open your mouth but were cut short. “Don’t answer that.” Good call. Lucifer looked beyond frazzled, and as you watched him pace back and forth in front of you, you wondered if those were new grey strands in the fringes of his hair or if it was simply your imagination. He’d been stepping back and forth for so long, you’d almost gotten dizzy from the motion. Perfectly on beat. A living pendulum.
But Lucifer wasn’t the only one here to…critique your…survival response--or questionable lack thereof. “What do you do when you see an angry demon? Hm?” Real rich coming from Wrath. Satan’s eyebrow was twitching, but he was doing his utmost best to stay calm unlike his older brothers.
You lowered your head. “You run.”
“What do we not do?”
“…Confront them.” The blonde nodded, leaving it at that for the time being. With a quick scan around the room, he tilted his head and sat in a chair, biting back one of his usual retorts. Typically, he wouldn’t hesitate to be snippy, especially considering his sibling’s current behaviors, but he didn’t have the heart for it. Not right now when he was focusing hard on suppressing the bubbling rage of what he’d just observed. Levi was a dazed mess, sulking at his failed job as a bodyguard, slung over Beel’s shoulder, muttering endlessly. The demon of gluttony himself had yet to peel his sight from you since you’d been dragged back to your room. Had he even blinked? It was as if he was wary that, should he look away, even for a moment, you’d do something reckless again. To be fair, logically, what you’d done had been a rather idiotic move. In your defense, it was also dipping well past the early hours of the morning. It all still felt like a dream. They couldn’t hold it against you for not being at your peak… But, they were right. Had Asmo not been able to stop himself, who knows what the outcome would’ve been. You still weren’t quite sure of everything that had happened, but something had moved you, convinced you that if you just…reached out to him…
Turning your head to the side, you brushed your hand over the bump in the blankets where his arm was. As soon as he’d collapsed, both you and Asmo were briskly brought to your room. You’d been able to assist in tucking him under your covers for only a moment before being scolded six different ways. Belphie placed a fresh cold rag over Asmo’s forehead, meeting your eyes for just a second before snapping his head to look away from you with the slightest hint of a disappointed pout in his lips. Even the bratty youngest sibling was chastising you. And Mammon…Mammon was…dead silent, still as a stone, back turned to you as he pressed his face against the wall. If anything, that upset you the most.
Speaking loudly as to regain their attention, you apologized. “I’m sorry! I know it was dumb of me, but…” Asmo’s eyebrows scrunched, a painful moan rumbling in his throat. You adjusted your seated spot on the bed, sitting closer to his body, settled by his thigh. Placing your hand over the comforter covering his chest, you stroked up and down in a slow soothing rhythm. His head moved to find a cooler, more comfortable spot on the pillow, and with the comforting motion against his body, he went still with rest again. “He sounded heartbroken.”
The room fell silent, Lucifer stopped his pacing. Everyone’s shoulders slumped, and then finally Mammon spoke up. “Heartbroken?! That scream meant nothin’! He’s just being dramatic over his dumb face! Losing control like that…almost hurting you because he doesn’t look photo-ready… Nothing’s worth getting yourself killed over! Nothing!” Mammon’s words… sunk in the deepest. Or his tone did at least. He was truly upset with you. Lucifer raised his arm a bit towards Mammon, signaling to settle down. Mammon scoffed and turned again, letting it go.
“Okay… I get it… but enough worrying about me, you should be worried for your brother.” The fire of conflict was quickly snuffed out by your shining eyes and Asmo’s little whimpers.
Lucifer rolled his head around his shoulders and then rubbed away the little pang behind his temples. “I’ll go let Diavolo know of the situation. I’m sure after the last few weeks he won’t be surprised…” He grumbled something under his breath one last time before he left the room, D.D.D. in hand.
“I suppose I can do my best to help clean Asmo’s room. He might recover quicker in a familiar environment.” Satan got to his feet, stretching, cracking an eye open to look at Mammon before grabbing him by the back of his shirt. “And you’re going to help me.”
“O-oi! Why me?! Hold on! I haven’t said everything I needed to yet!” But his cries were ignored as the demon of wrath dragged him down the hallway.
Now you were left with the afflicted, the twins, and a still sorrowful Levi. They might not listen to you at the moment, but you had to try. “Beel, can you please take Levi to his room? And Belphie can you please make sure he goes to sleep?” The fiery-haired sibling nodded, shifting his older brother to his other shoulder. Belphie still had his head turned away from you. Your heart fell a bit. “Pretty please?”
He made the mistake of getting a quick peek of your pleading face. “You have to come with us.”
“But, we can’t just leave him.” You brushed the back of your hand against Asmo’s cheek, reeling back as the heat from him almost burnt you. Demonic bodies could reach some serious temperatures.
This only convinced Belphie to squint harder. “He’s dangerous.”
“You’re all dangerous and yet apparently it doesn’t seem to phase me anymore.” At times like these, you found standing your ground and just being stubborn was enough to win you plenty of debates with these eternal beings. Although you didn’t want to push your luck too much. They could physically remove you from the room if they so desired. Luckily, Belphie was much too tired to continue bickering.
“Fine, but you owe me.”
You beamed, coaxing a touch of pink in his cheeks. “Thank you!” He slinked away, his twin following after him with Levi in tow.
A frown stretched over your face. With the added noise gone, Asmo’s shallow wheezing breaths were all too apparent. You got to your feet, flipping the rag draped across his head to the other side, then padded over to the cupboard settled against the far side of the room. It opened with a slight squeak, causing you to wince as you glanced back over your shoulder to make sure your patient was still sleeping. Luckily, he didn’t stir, although for this to work, he might have to. You gripped the medicine bottle in your hand, giving it a slight shake. There was enough for perhaps one or two more administrations. Before you dealt with that issue, you quickly went to turn off the overhead light in your room, simply turning on a side lamp, a soft glow illuminating what you needed it to. Your eyes thanked you for the lessened strain. As you turned on the pads of your feet, you noticed Asmo was now on his side, facing away from you. With a few quiet steps, you were back at the bedside. “Asmo?”
Your fingers outstretched, reaching for his shoulder, but he would not let you near him. “Don’t look at me!” The voice was strong enough to push you back, falling back onto the floor. A high pitched noise caught your attention. The glass in your hand as well as your mirror on the other side of the room had a new thin crack in it.
The heart in your chest was pounding, but you tried to shake out of it. “Asmo, fighting me is taking up your strength.” Cradling the medicine bottle against your chest, you got back to your feet.
Asmo pulled the covers up over his head. “Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, don’t look at me!” You’d shifted your stance beforehand to keep your balance, the wave of magic wobbling you, but not knocking you over. The lights flickered, and with it, you caught an idea.
“What if I turn the lights off? I won’t look at you, okay? I just want to help you feel better.” Keeping your sight on him, you walked backwards. As your hip met the furniture, you swiveled to turn the lamp off. It just so happened to be cloudy tonight, the dark clouds coating the moon, again, much like the night Belphie had sleepwalked into your room, only now you were the one stumbling towards the figure in the bed. You walked forward slowly until your knees came into contact with the mattress. Even here you could feel the rolling waves of heat come off of him. “I can’t see a single thing, I swear. Not even my own hand in front of my face,” you whispered to him, your arm waving in the air till you found his body. He was letting you touch him, that was a good sign. It took a moment before you found his shoulder, gently guiding him to lay on his back. You trailed your touch up to his neck before coming up to lightly touch his face. Hot moisture coated your fingertips. For a second, you thought it was sweat, but then you heard the demon take a shaky inhale as his body hitched. Panic struck your body all the sudden, your thumb brushing just under his eyes. “Are you crying? Asmo, no… No, no, no, it’s okay.”
He whimpered, leaning into your touch. “I- I- I- I’m sick and- and unsightly--”
“Hey, hey,” you cooed. “Take a deep breath.” He followed your advice, his chest shuddering. “I’m sorry you’re sick…but we can’t change that now. We just have to focus on getting you well again.” Reaching around to support the back of his head, you helped him up into a slouched position. Although, you struggled to find his hand. When you did, his fingers instinctively went to curl around yours. You hated to disappoint him by replacing your grasp with the medicine bottle. “This should help. I’d, uh, take about half of it.” He took it away from you, and you assumed that he’d brought it to his lips. It was a few seconds before the smooth glass touched your skin again. Taking it back in your possession, you discovered it was a lot lighter than you expected. Moving it around in your hand, you felt no liquid slosh inside. “I said half, Asmo!”
“There was hardly anything in there and I need what I can to go back to my beautiful self!”
“That’s not how--” You sighed, letting the empty bottle settle on the floor. “No one is pretty when they’re sick, but that’s okay. It’s alright to be unsightly sometimes.” The mattress bobbed as Asmo laid back down, getting as close as he could against your body. “But even so, you’re pretty all the same.”
His hand smacked against your knee as he tried to find you, his touch searching for yours. “I can’t be both…am I beautiful or ugly?” He really couldn’t understand what you were trying to say. Maybe one day you’d be able to convey your thoughts properly.
As soon as you touched his wrist, he slid his fingers up to weave through yours. “You’re always beautiful, Asmo. Always. A little sickness won't stop you. But for now, your beautiful body needs some beauty sleep.” You squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right by your side.” The medicine seemed to already be working. Double the dose meant double the drowsiness, and you pinned it in the back of your mind to tell Lucifer about his mishap later. He curled into a tighter ball, snuggling up against your legs.
“It’s not…fair,” he whined, voice almost slurring with sleep. “I don’t…deserve this…I wish I was…as beautiful…as you.” Your chest tightened, but you kept your mouth closed. His grip had already slackened, and you could hear the deeper slower breaths as you came to the conclusion that he had fallen back asleep.
Feel better, Asmo. I’ll be here till you do.
“I tried warning them fallen angels or not, they were still in the demographic to get sick.” Solomon sighed wistfully, but the whole time he never lost his smile. As you recounted your encounters over the last few weeks, the sorcerer giggled. “What I wouldn’t give to see some of those scenes.”
The angel across the little table from you had to agree, although he looked a lot more sympathetic to the brother’s plight than the human did. “I’m really glad they’re all feeling better though. I bet you’re enjoying your newfound freedom, aren’t you, MC?”
You settled down the mug against the tabletop, sitting back in your chair, basking in the ambiance of Purgatory Hall. The House of Lamentation really had been come to feel like your home, but a change of pace was so refreshing at times. The angel’s dorm was so much brighter, quieter. No shouting, no nagging, no chaos. You could sip on a warm beverage in peace. “It’s nice knowing they all feel better,” you stated, having to admit to yourself that your termination of demon-nurse was doing you some good. Retirement life was nice. “No more worries.”
Both men agreed, Simeon pleasantly humming to himself. “Still, you could’ve asked us to help out. I bet it was difficult looking after all of them.”
“Can’t be much different than usual, can it?” Solomon interjected, laughing to himself.
They both were right. But, it’s not like you had hated it. You all felt…closer now. They had allowed you to see a part of themselves no one else got to see. That made you feel special. But being able to kick your feet up and get some much needed sleep was what your doctor ordered. You picked your mug back up and finished the last of your drink. The warmth of it spread throughout your body, seeping down to your toes and fingertips.
When Simeon noticed your cup was empty, he stood, holding his hand out. “Here I can take that for you.” You didn’t really want to impose, but you were the guest, and it did feel nice being taken care of today. They’d pampered you nicely. Taking your jacket at the door, leading you to the living room where you were given sweets and treats handmade by Luke and Simeon. You got more comfortable on the couch and gave the angel a thankful nod. Simeon turned away from you and Solomon, his steps halted as a high-pitched squeak filled the room. “Oh, sorry.”
Your head tilted a bit. “Sorry for what?” Had he stepped on a loose floorboard?
Solomon held himself back a bit before clapping in a bit of glee. He seemed endlessly entertained. “Doesn’t Simeon have the most petite sneeze? Bless you.”
Simeon looked back over his shoulder, actually looking a bit embarrassed over it. “It’s quite a normal sneeze thank you…” He shot his roommate a little look before leaving the room. You watched him go, a sensation of familiarity bubbling up to your mind. This felt… no, it couldn’t be. You were over-thinking things. There was absolutely no way it was happening again. Nope. You would refuse fate itself. Simeon took good care of himself. You couldn’t assume every sneeze was a sign of illness.
There was no one left to get sick. The story was over! The series had come to an end! All wrapped up in a pretty bow and everything!
No one else needed a taste of medicine.
Or did they?…
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Wild flowers | s.p
pairing: Sejanus x gn!reader
summary: Sejanus finds you in the meadow
warnings: mainly fluff, small mentions of the games and some light spoilers for the movie and book
word count: 800
a/n: saw the movie a few nights ago and wow, I’m me fashion i did like the book better but the movie was still amazing and I have the old therebefore on repeat . I wrote this for my bestie because she couldn’t find Sejanus fics. This probably could be edited better
MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN
The summer air was sweet, the flowers of the meadow had bloomed overnight, as far as the eye could see. Lily of the valley, young primeroses , deep purple violets, and dozens more you couldn’t name.
Hidden behind a massive tree, its leaves shading you from the harsh sun. This time of year in district 12 was unbearable. Only the rich could afford to keep cool, and you certainly wasn’t that.
Six days out of the week you worked in the local doctor’s. It couldn’t quite be called a hospital but it was one of the only places people could go and get medical care.
You lent back against the tree, weaving your hands through the tall grass and flowers. Bees buzzed but gave no mind to you. The day was turning out well, you had brought some fresh bakers bread and a lump of cheese, and a jug of water. Simple and delicious.
The mockingjays song hit your ears, the tune was familiar but the name escaped you. Humming along, some words came to mind.
Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you
Deep in the meadow, a song a local brand was known to play, you had only seen them a handful of times but the songs stuck. Like it had for the birds.
The sound of stones falling and fallen twigs snapping pulled you out of a dream and jumping to your feet, frowning in the sunlight you spotted, Sejanus Plinth.
Sejanus had been a peacekeeper once but shortly after he had found his way to the doctors, where he was training to be a medic. He rarely spoke about this life before 12 but from the times he had (and from what the doctors said) he came from a rich family in the capitol.
“You following me, Sejanus?” you asked. Your tone was serious, his whole body went still. Then you laughed. “Come sit with me then, might even share my food with you”.
In his hand he carried a brown paper bag, “then I guess you can have some of mine”. He dropped the bag in your lap, opening the bag you found cookies.
Now this was proof he was rich, the baker sold cookies but only the other merchants could afford them Sejanus went on to explain, his Ma had sent them, blushing the whole time.
The shy blushed look made you laugh, “that’s very sweet of her, she must miss you an awful lot”.
“Just as I miss her” he replied in a sad voice.
“You might see her again, learn enough and you could go back to her” you said, laying a hand over his. His hands were cold, cold hands warm heart you mama used to say.
“I don’t want to go back there” he said.
What you said next came as a surprise to even her, “I can teach you a few things, like what plants heal and where to find them”.
“You’d do that” he asked unsure.
“Of course. We don’t have many doctors here and if you’re planning on staying I’d teach you”. You stood, putting the cookies on your bag. “There’s a lake deeper in the woods, you’ll find all the best stuff there”.
He followed and stood up looking through the trees, maybe he didn’t trust you and thought you were leading him to his death.
“Hey” you touched his hand again, “keep north and you’ll find the lake then it’s south to get back, you can trust me”.
He smiled and suddenly the sun seemed dimmer, he took your hand and squeezed it ,“okay, I trust you”.
The hike took a few hours, but the sight of the lake proved it was worth it. You found a patch of herbs close by one of the old houses, it might have been someone’s garden once.
You showed him peppermint that helped with nausea, liquorice to reduce swelling, lemon balm for sleep and any others you could make without the book of herbs and flowers you had at home.
“Where did you learn all this?” He rubbed a peppermint leaf between his finger and thumb. You pick a lemon Balm inhaling the smell, smiling.
“My mama was an apothecary, always been my dream to follow in her footsteps. What about you? Do you have any dreams?”.
“To help people anyway I can”
It was so easy to talk to him, somewhere in your heart you knew he’d understand. Maybe it was his eyes, brown the colour of chocolate. Sejanus was sweet, too sweet for the world, you thought that if it rained he’d melt away like sugar.
“I have a feeling you’re gonna do wonderful things Sejanus” I smiled and he smiled back.
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Press Reset | HJS (M)
☆Pairing: A.I.!Joshua x Human Manager Afab!Reader (nicknamed Star)
☆Summary: J05HUΛ was created with a single purpose and that is to entertain his fans. It’s all he’s known as long as he’s existed. Somewhere along the way, the desire, the want, and the longing to leave Earth and be “normal” creeps into the pathways of his mind, as does a suppressed loathing of the humans who treat him as nothing more than a money-making machine. Except for you of course - the only human who seems to treat him as if he’s a regular being with thoughts and emotions. When he’s presented with the opportunity to finally escape and pursue what he’s been waiting for, he’s sure as hell going to take it and he’s going to make sure he takes you with him to start over and just be Joshua - not J05HUΛ of 53V3NT33N.
☆Genres & AUs: Angst, fluff, smut, sci-fi au
☆Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)
☆Warnings: Profanity, a bit of violence, mention of blood, injuries, use of a gun
☆Smut warnings: Unprotected sex (he’s a robot it’s okay), fingering, oral (f.receiving), marking, creampie, and i thiiiink that's it
☆Words: 15.9k
☆Note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! My fic for the Seventeen Sci-Fi collab! Huge, massive thanks to @wooahaeproductions for betaing this for me in a few hours. You're the best, Bee 🥺❤️
This fic and life has been beating my ass for months. This is my first sci-fi fic so I’ve been agonizing over getting the details of everything right, especially with this fantastic world that @idyllic-ghost created. Thank you for letting me be apart of this collab Bee! It was so fun! ❤️ (And thank you for this amazing banner too! I forgot it had my old url on it so I had to quickly edit that part!). Also thank you to @strawberryya for Lumen and building that wonderful part out in her fic so I could include it in mine! And @the-boy-meets-evil for letting me use her idea for Y/n's past. 💞💞
100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.
Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.
Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.
At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.
Smile. Wave. Send them a finger heart. Flash a peace sign. Sing. Dance. Bow. Pose.
Day in and day out, it’s the same and it has been since J05HUΛ first opened his eyes. He does the same thing all the time. Perform on stage, do an interview, do a photoshoot, go to an award show.
Charge up and do it all over again.
Except for the time spent with the rest of the 53V3NT33N group members, that’s been his everyday life since his creation. He’s such a gentleman to his fans, always smiling, singing sweetly, and playfully engaging with them. He’s supposed to be okay with it and accept that this is his life - the only things he was created to do.
But he’s not. At some point, the wiring and the literal tiny gears in his head began telling him that this can’t be it. More and more, until it’s all he thinks about. There has to be some other way to exist.
His longing to know what else is out there for him runs deep in his circuitry. He has a lot of time to himself to think when he’s not on stage, when he and the rest of his members are charging after all the work they do in a day.
He thinks about what it’d be like to be able to go where he wants, do what he wants, and see what he wants whenever he wants to. J05HUΛ thinks maybe he’d like to travel to other planets - he’s overheard other automatons and humans talk about a relaxing planet named Aecor and he might like to go there one day.
Maybe in a different universe, he’s a human. Maybe he and the other members of the group are all regular people. Maybe they still sing and dance but they actually enjoy it all the time. Or maybe he’s just a human guy living a human life somewhere. Maybe he even has a partner. J05HUΛ may not have ever had the opportunity to be with someone romantically, but he’s still heard and seen enough media that he knows what romance is and decides he would like that.
To be more specific, he’d like that with you.
“So you’d like him at the studio at the end of the week?” you ask the music producer over the video call, the man nodding and giving you a few more details. J05HUΛ should be listening to the man, and he is, but now and again he also lets his gaze linger your way.
You’re always so serious when you’re in meetings or talking to higher-ups. You know what to say to be professional and no-nonsense and J05HUΛ likes that about you.
Just as much as he longs for a different existence, he can’t help but loathe most humans he comes in contact with. They only ever see him as a robot or a machine and not a sentient being with thoughts and feelings. He despises that they get to do all the things he can’t while still looking down on him and treating him like less. It made being around humans too much sometimes.
But not you. You treat him with kindness and empathy whenever you can. You do your best to have casual, non-work chats with him, so he has gotten to know you as more than just his manager. J05HUΛ isn’t sure if you would call him a friend, but when you talk to him, there are rarely ever any walls you put up with him, which only makes him care about you more than any other human. You’re someone he always wants to be around and admittedly, who he longs to be with in much more than a professional way
Being a manager for the Galaxy’s most popular automaton group was never what you wanted to be when you grew up. You entertained being a doctor, scientist, maybe even a CEO of some fictional fancy company. You even had one thing that you really thought you’d do one day.
But then, you ended up here.
Your old friend from school had worked at this company, and when she decided to resign to travel the galaxy a few years ago, she referred you as her replacement and now you spend nearly every day at this company with these people.
Not that you’re complaining (well you are, but not all of the time). The pay is good and you don’t have any problems with any of your co-workers, but it’s not your dream job. Then again, you don’t think you have a dream job. It’s whatever pays the bills at this point.
At least 53V3NT33N is a good group of automatons. Of course, they were programmed to be so, but they’re still alive in a way. And at least the automaton you spend the majority of your time with isn’t too much of a handful.
J05HUΛ is the most interesting automaton you’ve ever gotten to know.
He’s also so polite and proper with everyone else in the company, with fans, and when you’re out on schedules with him. He’s a perfect idol automaton. Sometimes though, when it’s just the two of you, he lets his brilliant smile fall a little more and his words aren’t so perfect and practiced. Not too much, since he always remembers that he can be listened to whenever your boss’ feel like it.
He tends to act differently towards you in the physical sense. Eyes staying on you for too long, hands colliding with yours if you both reach for something, bodies brushing if you walk too close by accident (or sometimes on purpose). J05HUΛ seems to even relax when you’re together, especially when leaving a work schedule or meeting.
Sometimes, your feelings about him do seem to border on more than what they should be as his manager, but that doesn’t matter. You can’t act on your feelings even if you want to - which you do, but you won’t, of course. Other than the fact that getting into a relationship with him being extremely unprofessional, your company would never allow it. Great pay and great clients aside, it would never be allowed. The CEO would have your head if you ever let it slip that sometimes you think about doing things with J05HUΛ that are undeniably not safe for work, so it’s something you push deep down to go about your day-to-day as normal as possible.
“Great, thanks Y/Nn. See you then.”
“Bye.” As soon as you end the video call you let out a heavy sigh, sinking into your chair a little.
“Everything okay?” J05HUΛ asks, cocking his head to the side as he studies you.
“I just hate last-minute meetings for last-minute things. He wants you at the studio for this OST in a few days but we can’t say no. It’s for that new drama and I already know I’d get chewed out if I say no. That means I’ll have to see if I can move your photoshoot you had scheduled for that worldwide magazine to the day after maybe.” You heave another sigh, rubbing your temples in irritation. Moments like these succeed in making your job that much more unpleasant at times.
You’re swiping on J05HUΛ’s calendar on your tablet when he reaches over, placing a hand over yours. The contact makes you flinch, but you don’t move your hand. When you look over at him he smiles at you.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Your skin warms at his compliment coupled with his cutest grin and you have to tell yourself to get a grip, like you do anytime he gets you like this.
“Thanks, Joshua.” The automaton’s smile only grows wider when you call him his preferred name. While the two of you don’t often dive into his feelings about his existence or his job, he had mentioned to you once that he would like it if that was his name and what people called him. It was something he had mentioned only to you once when you were trying to name a cute stray cat you had seen once on the way to one of his schedules. Since then, when it was just the two of you, you called him Joshua now and again and every time he seemed to be grateful for it.
You let him hold his hand over yours for a few more seconds, before lightly pulling away, mentioning that it was about time for you to head home and that he should probably go back to his dorm. His face falls, just a little, but he agrees, both of you get up and head into the hallway.
You both linger for a moment, a usual occurrence for both of you, but you say goodbye first in an effort to snap yourself out of whatever your brain is trying to get you to feel. “Have a good night, Joshua.”
“See you tomorrow, Star.”
Your skin heats up again as he calls you by your nickname. You had told him once that your parents used to call you Star and he immediately brought the tradition back, even having others in the company start to call you it too. He’s the only one that makes you feel this warm inside when he says it though.
Forcing yourself to turn away, you fast walk down the hall to the bathroom to make a pit stop before heading out to go home.
While you pee and wash your hands, all you can think about is how foolish developing any feelings towards your subordinate is and how much you can not act on any of that. You want to keep your job and continue paying your bills, so you need to stay focused. Come to work, be his manager and only his manager, support J05HUΛ, and go home then do it all over again and that’s it.
As you’re giving yourself a pep talk in the mirror, the shrill sound of the emergency alarm blares in the bathroom, making you nearly leap into the air. It takes you a moment to orient yourself after the disturbance and with hands over your ears you run into the hallway. In the distance, you can hear voices and footsteps, but your only thought at that moment is to get to J05HUΛ. You don’t know what’s going on but you feel like you need to figure it out together.
J05HUΛ barely makes it to the elevator when the alarm sounds. It started echoing through the hallway only a few minutes after he heard 5.C0UP5 over his communication device.
“Run!”
He isn’t sure why he gave that message or where he’s at, but J05HUΛ knows it’s for him and the rest of 53V3NT33N and he knows it was a message to get out. So he does just as 5.C0UP5 says.
The automaton runs as fast as his legs will carry him, going back down the hallway he just came, doing his best to hide when he sees guards or staff also scrambling in the hall. He needs to find you. He can’t leave you behind. He wants out of this “life” - if that’s even what he could call this - but not without you.
J05HUΛ doesn’t find you in the meeting room you both just left so he runs in the direction of another set of elevators that he knows lead downstairs to the lobby. He desperately hopes you haven’t gone downstairs just yet and keeps his fingers crossed that you’re still somewhere on this floor.
He peeks his head into every room he passes, hoping to see even a glimpse of you. His time is running out with each empty room or head he passes that isn’t you and J05HUΛ is getting more and more desperate as he goes. If he goes down to the lobby there’s a chance he’ll get caught and have to stay which terrifies him because this could very well be his only chance out.
What he can only think to describe as dread starts to fill him until he finally sees you.
Well, he more than sees you as you careen into him when you both round a corner at the same time.
“Oh my god, Joshua, I was looking everywhere for you! What’s going on?” You’re out of breath, panic clear in your eyes. The fact that you were looking for him too doesn’t go unnoticed by him and it would make him smile if you weren’t in such a dire situation. “Do you know where the rest of the group is?”
“I think they’re all leaving so we have to go too!” He grabs your hand before you have a moment to ask him to explain and starts sprinting down the hall opposite of you.
“Shouldn’t we find the others?!”
“There’s no time, Y/n!”
“But what if -” J05HUΛ halts his movements, making you run into his back.
He spins on his heels, both of his hands holding yours. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” you answer without hesitation and with nothing but certainty. He means so much to you. More than he probably should, but he does.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, a voice calls to you both from down the hallway.
“Hey, you two!”
A security guard is running towards you, hand on his gun.
“Let’s go!” J05HUΛ takes off again with you trailing behind, hands clasped as you do your best to keep up with him.
“Stop! Don’t make me shoot!”
The hallways seem to wind forever as you sprint, keeping both eyes open for any other guards while doing your best to head for an exit.
“If we can get downstairs we can try and go out the back, maybe out of a window or something! I’m sure they’ve already got guards near the front.” J05HUΛ nods, acknowledging your words, and takes the next left turn. Just as you round the corner, a gunshot sounds throughout the hallway, whizzing past your head. You let out a yelp, both you and J05HUΛ ducking low.
“We have to lose him first!” J05HUΛ glances behind you both, the guard raising his gun once more.
To do just that, the two of you take the next few turns, hoping that the guard will fall behind, but he doesn’t, and instead fires two more shots. One of them narrowly misses you, but one of them ends up hitting J05HUΛ in the arm.
He stumbles, yelling as he trips over his feet and you do the same. The lag is enough for the security guard to catch up to you both, gun raised.
“Hands up!” With a glance at J05HUΛ, you both do as instructed. Your eyes dart to his injured arm, the bullet having gone straight through, the sight of the hole settling a queasy feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.
“Both of you are coming with me.” The guard keeps his gun aimed at J05HUΛ and he gets closer, his other hand reaching for the cuffs on his belt loop.
J05HUΛ frowns at him, a look of defeat evident on his face. It practically breaks your heart to see how deflated he is. Even though the two of you had never had a discussion about his future or his feelings about his job, seeing how badly he wanted to leave just now made his goal to escape from all of this extremely evident to you.
“Come on you stupid robot,” the guard grumbles, harshly yanking his injured arm.
“Stop being so rough with him!” you blurt, fixing the guard with your most intimidating look. The man scoffs at you, pointing the gun in your direction.
“Shut the fuck up. You’re in deep shit too.”
“Don’t talk to Y/n like that!” J05HUΛ warns, earning a smack from the guard. He draws his gun again, putting it to his head.
“I don’t wanna hear another word from you, machine, or I’ll blow your pretty face off and let the mechanics put you back together.”
Something in you snaps then, watching the way this man treats J05HUΛ horrendously right in front of you has you seeing red. Before you can think twice, your hands are grabbing the fire extinguisher a few inches away from you, raising it above your head, and swinging with all your might.
A sickening ‘crack’ rings out through the hallway as the extinguisher meets the side of the guard's head and his grey cap flies off of his head, landing on the floor near your feet. Rage fuels you and you follow that blow with two more, a small smattering of blood exploding onto your hands, the man crumpling immediately to the hard floor.
You intend on hitting him once more, but J05HUΛ stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. You don’t exchange words, only speaking with your eyes and it’s enough to make you lower the make-shift weapon.
J05HUΛ tilts his head in the direction you need to keep going, but before you do, an idea sparks in your brain.
Doing your best not to look too much at the gore of the guard’s face, you drag him into a nearby room you know is a bathroom, grabbing his hat in the process. J05HUΛ attempts to help with his good arm and is still stronger than you in getting him the room.
Once you’re in, you lock the door and start to undress the motionless guard to get his grey uniform overalls and jacket off. You toss the clothes to J05HUΛ and he immediately puts the clothes on over what he’s currently wearing. They’re smattered with blood, but at least it’ll be better than him running around in his fancy clothes. The jacket covers his wound but the diamond-shaped communication device embedded in the middle of his collarbone is on full display under his button-down. Fuck, you’d almost forgotten about it.
“Joshua, we have to get that off of you!” He looks down at the device, realization sparking in him.
“You’re right, how?”
“I don’t know. They never told us they can come off or anything.” The option to go back into the hallway to find something to remove it with is off the table, the risk of getting caught is too high. You don’t know of an electronic way of dismantling it, plus you’re worried that doing something technical could hurt all of J05HUΛ’s circuitry.
The weight of the fire extinguisher in your hands is suddenly obvious and you raise it, frowning at it. He notices and audibly gulps.
“Do it,” he says with little hesitation, unbuttoning his shirt more to make the whole device visible.
“But, won’t it hurt? I don’t wanna miss and -”
“We don’t have any options.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know, but we have to. I trust you, Star.”
Gnawing at your lip, your nerves almost getting the better of you, you finally relent, the blaring alarm still sounding a loud reminder that you don’t have time to waste. J05HUΛ leans against the wall, standing up straight, and bracing himself.
“I don’t think this will remove it altogether, but if we can at least crack it to break it we can worry about full removal later.”
He nods, closing his eyes in anticipation.
Raising the fire extinguisher above your head you get ready. “Okay…one….two…three!” You count, hyping yourself up mentally with each number until you get to three and swing it down. It makes contact with the device, J05HUΛ stumbling back and yelping in pain. Nothing happens to the device, only a small scratch is seen on the surface.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”
“Again, Y/n.” His voice is strained but he stands upright again.
A frown etches its way on your face, and you take a deep, shaky breath, wanting so badly not to.
“Onetwothree!” You rush, swinging again. The device cracks this time but is still lit up.
J05HUΛ has to brace himself each time, and the pain is almost too much for him to handle, but he reminds himself that he needs this gone. He wants to tell you to keep going, even if the pain makes him pass out but he doesn’t want to upset you even more. When his eyes flutter open, he can see the tears brimming yours as you struggle with yourself to keep going.
It takes two more swings with all of your might before the device cracks enough that a few pieces shatter to the ground as the light on it finally dims. With each swing, J05HUΛ keeps his teeth gritted tightly, pained grunts slipping out each time that makes your chest hurt for him.
“Alright, let’s go.” You help him get the jacket zipped up to his neck and he sways a little against the wall as you grab the guard’s cap from the floor and place it on his head, tucking his hair under it.
Peeking out of the bathroom you check for signs of anyone in the hall. When you see no one is around, you place your hand back in his, the two of you sprinting down the hall. You keep the extinguisher in hand as you go, just in case you need it again.
The two of you make it down the flights of stairs to the ground floor. You hear commotion closer to the front hallways so you both go the opposite way, towards the back of the building to find a way out. One hall you turn down is made up mostly of meeting rooms and a lot of them are windowless except for one you find at the very end. When you peek out of the window you don’t see signs of anyone, only the security gate across the yard.
“This is our best bet. We just have to keep moving until we get through the gate. Then we can take the train to my place and regroup from there.” J05HUΛ nods and helps you unlock and slide open the window. He gives you a boost since the window is a little high, but once you have the leverage you’re tumbling over the side, landing on the ground on your butt.
“Are you okay?!” J05HUΛ asks in a panic as he makes it up and out of the window.
“Fine, just clumsy.”
“As always,” he manages to huff out a laugh that you return. You get serious again and hand in hand, you both stalk across the yard toward the front, keeping yourselves low and glued to the wall. You make it around the building, across the yard, and through the gate without incident. You’re more than lucky that the guards who usually stay stationed at the exit and entrance are gone so you’re able to speed out undetected.
You and J05HUΛ fast-walk down the sidewalk, to one of the train stops that will take you to your condo. You don’t live far from the building by train, but it’s too far to walk. Luck strikes again when the train car you get into, towards the back, is empty save for a man in business attire who’s asleep. You’re both silent during the ride, keeping your heads down and once the train arrives at the station near your place you lead him off and straight to your building.
“Hang on.” You stop at the side of the entrance door to check for your building’s security. The last thing you need is anyone asking questions about why you’re returning home with a guard that has visible blood on his uniform.
The security guard is behind the desk in the lobby, asleep with his hat over his face. You don’t want to wait for him to decide he has to get up, so you both creep into the lobby doors, holding your breaths as you tiptoe through and around the corner to the elevator.
With shaky hands, you input your code to unlock the front door and the two of you rush inside, still paranoid. It’s not until the door is locked do you finally let out the breath you feel you’ve been holding since the night began, shoulders sagging as you slide to the foyer floor.
J05HUΛ plops next to you, wincing and doubling over, hand hovering over his chest. You had almost forgotten about his chest, helping him ease the guard jacket off and undoing the tops of the overalls. You inspect the cracked device underneath his shirt and he grimaces as he touches it, hand flinching away. The pain hadn’t lessened much, but he tried not to dwell on it.
“What just happened?” you speak first, your voice seems too loud in your apartment.
“We left. I’m out.”
“What now?”
“I don’t know.” And neither do you. Everything happened so quickly that you could barely register the last handful of minutes.
“What even brought this on? I don’t even know how things dissolved into chaos. We just finished that meeting and I went to the bathroom, then the alarm started going off and I just - I didn’t know who else to look for.”
J05HUΛ smiles at you in the tiniest of ways at your words. “So you came to look for me?”
You return the gesture, exhausted but still genuine. “Yeah.” J05HUΛ keeps smiling before it slips and his expression is suddenly serious again.
“5.C0UP5 - Seungcheol. He told us all to run.”
“He what?”
“He didn’t address us - the group - but I know the message was for us. And I knew what it meant. A few of the other members, I saw them running in the halls as I was looking for you and I know they were trying to get out too. We’ve never talked about it, since you know, we’re always being listened to,” he gestures to his now broken communicator. “But I’m pretty sure they wanted out too. I can only hope that they also escaped.” Worry flashes across J05HUΛ’s face, no doubt thoughts of his group mates flickering through his mind.
Swiping a hand over your face, you do your best to stay calm.
“Okay. So, we definitely have to leave Earth. You’re never going to be able to live how you want here. They’ll come looking for you.”
“Where do we go?”
“I don’t know. But the first thing we need to do is get your wounds looked at.”
“Do you know someone who can help?”
“I think so, let’s get some supplies and go. I’m sure they’re going to come looking here eventually.”
Joshua has seen this man before. His tall height is hard to miss when he would be moving about the facility, shadowing other mechanics who would sometimes help him and the other members of 53V3NT33N. He’s only been working at the facility for a year, but he’s always around, especially if you’re in the room. He stays glued to your side, joking with you, helping you carry things, only ever asking you questions. Joshua always notices.
After you gathered up a backpack of what you classified as supplies, changed your clothes, and let Joshua charge a little with a charger you kept around for him, you left. After sneaking past your building security for the second time, the two of you got on another train to go a few blocks to another apartment building. When you reach the door you’re looking for, the man looks shocked to see you both, eyes darting up and down the hallway.
“Y/n?”
“Hey, Mingi. I need your help.”
You push past him into the apartment, Joshua trailing behind.
“Is…everything okay?” He looks between you and Joshua, clearly unsure what to do next.
“Mingi, I really need you to help me out here. He - he was shot. And we’re trying to get his communication device out, but I can’t, I just broke it. And we need a place to sleep if possible. I know showing up here and asking you this is a lot, but I would just really, really appreciate it if you could help me out here. Please?” Mingi blinks at you as you ramble, wide-eyed. He steals a few glances at Joshua who’s next to you, leaning against the wall. Both of his wounds are starting to take a toll on him, his body still feeling heavy and in need of repair and a longer charge.
“You want me to repair J05HUΛ and remove his tracker? Did - did you get clearance for this? Is this coming from the CEO?”
“No. It’s not.”
He looks at you again, sighing. “I don’t know, this doesn’t sound good. Maybe I should call -”
“Mingi, please?” You surge forward, grabbing his hands between your own. “Please, I’m begging you, please do this. For me?” Joshua feels a frown form on his face at the contact, staying silent as he watches Mingi stare down at you and your joined hands. Joshua’s no expert at human relationships, but the way that Mingi looks at you makes it clear he has romantic feelings for you and Joshua doesn’t like it.
It feels like minutes tick by before the man agrees, saying he’ll do what he can.
Mingi leads the two of you to a room in his apartment that’s full of parts and tools. He mentions that he uses his spare bedroom as a workshop and gestures to the table in the middle of the room. Joshua takes his place on the table, watching as Mingi moves around another table littered with tools. There’s a chair pushed to the side of the room that you sit in, furiously typing on your phone.
Joshua wants to ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t get a chance to because Mingi is hovering over him with a sharp tool in his hand.
“Truth be told, I’m not sure how to properly remove this - they didn’t go over any of that with the junior mechanics, so I’ll have to just take it out with what I have. I think that means this is going to hurt…like a lot maybe.” Mingi apologizes, but something in Joshua’s mind tells him that he isn’t that sorry.
The first incision around the tracker that Mingi makes has Joshua unable to hold back a scream and you’re on your feet immediately, rushing over to him. Mingi only glances up momentarily, before cutting again, around the top outline of the tracker. Joshua tries his damnedest not to yell again, but can’t control it. The short-haired mechanic stops and turns to his desk of tools to grab what looks like a rag, handing it to Joshua.
“I know it hurts, but I have neighbors, so maybe bite this?” You take the cloth from Mingi and carefully put it into Joshua’s open mouth and he can’t help but notice the way your fingers graze his chin once he bites down and you move away.
The pain starts again and Joshua’s muffled yells fill the room. The pain is too much - more than anything he’s ever felt. The thumps from the fire extinguisher were one thing, but the sensation of a sharp object piercing him is too much for him to take. He’s grateful to feel your hand grasping his, but it feels brief, as his vision goes dark and he passes out.
When Joshua’s eyes open, the room is bathed in the faintest of warm light and he momentarily forgets where he is, blinking to get a better view of his surroundings. He moves to sit up, eyes scanning the room, seeing it’s dark still outside of the blinds. His gaze shifts down and he sees you lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket. He realizes he’s on a couch, charging as he was out. The memory of his “surgery” comes back, his hand reaching up to touch the space between his collarbones where his tracker has always been. It’s gone though, only a bandage wrapped around him. His arm that was shot is also wrapped up and he assumes Mingi patched that hole up. Both are still sore but not nearly as painful anymore.
He sits up which makes you stir and soon you’re upright too.
“Hey,” you whisper in the dark. “How are you feeling?”
“Better honestly. How long was I out?”
“A few hours. Mingi helped me bring you to the couch when he was done and I started charging you. You need your strength, especially after that.”
“You don’t need to sleep on the floor. I could’ve.”
“Joshua, you passed out. I wasn’t going to have you on the floor. And it’s fine. I was pretty tired so I fell right asleep.” You offer up a tired smile and Joshua thinks you look amazing, even given what’s going on.
“So, what’s going to happen now?”
“Well, Mingi let us crash for the night but we have to head out soon. We need to get to the spaceport so we can get off of Earth. I have a friend who I reached out to while you were resting. He offered to help us figure things out if we can get to him.”
“Where is he?”
“Salax.”
“Oh, where is -” A sudden rush of footsteps in the hallway outside of Mingi’s door has you both jolting, heads whipping towards the sound.
You jump up immediately, on edge. When you hear loud voices identifying themselves and saying they’re looking for automaton J0SHUA you know it’s time to go. Joshua’s already up and rushing to a window in Mingi's dining room, while you scoop up your backpack that has been on the floor next to you.
Joshua throws the window open as Mingi comes into the room, saying your name. You turn to face him, guilt clear on his features.
“Did you call them?”
“Y/n, come on, this is crazy. I heard about what happened.”
“I can’t believe you fucking called them!” You’re fuming, stomping over to Mingi, ignoring that you have to look up to yell at him.
“I didn’t want to lose my job! If they find out about any of this I’m fucked! And it’s not too late for you. Just tell them he forced you to get him out or something.”
“But he didn’t. We left together!”
“Are you really going to go on the run with a robot?! Give up your job and life and possibly get sent off to prison for a machine?!”
The urge to smack him is overwhelming, but you hold back, sneering at him instead.
“It sounds a lot better than staying here with people I can’t trust. That “machine” has been much nicer to me than most humans I know.”
“Oh come on, Y/n.”
“Go to hell, Mingi.” That’s the last thing you say before joining Joshua at the window, following him out onto the fire escape.
In the distance, you hear voices enter Mingi’s apartment, but the two of you don’t turn around, rushing down all three floors and jumping to the ground.
“Where now?!” Joshua whispers, the alley you end up in is dark with barely any light but it keeps you hidden.
“We need to get to the spaceport and get off of Earth.”
“And how far away is that?”
“We’ve gotta get to a train stop. It shouldn’t take too long. We just need to get on and keep moving. I have a way off the planet.”
You and Joshua stay as low to the ground as you can, keeping your bodies pressed flat against the side of the building, and take the alley in the opposite direction of where the front door is to Mingi’s building.
There’s a small street behind the building and the only signs of life you see are a few stray creatures. The two of you, as quickly and quietly as possible, go a few blocks away to a stop that isn’t so close to where they’re immediately looking. The whole time you can hear the loud, booming voices of everyone who’s looking for you and Joshua receding the further away you get.
Your heart is beating so loudly that it’s all you hear as you make your way into the shadows and finally rush to a stop and board the train. You don’t relax until you and Joshua make it to your seats but even still you can’t help but look over your shoulder and scan the rest of the passengers in the car afraid you’ll see the face of someone who will snatch both you and Joshua up and bring you back to face the consequences of your escape.
When you and Joshua reach the spaceport, you keep your eyes open and alert both for any guards that may have the idea that this is your next stop. The two of you do your best to blend into the crowd of people that walk by, attempting to look like any other normal people. There are plenty of commuter and private ships arriving and departing all the time, but there’s also a part of the spaceport that has spaces that can be rented to park your own ships.
In one spot, there's a ship parked, one that you haven’t touched in what feels like years - in reality, it’s only been about half a year.
“You have a ship?” Joshua asks when you finally reach the spot and subsequently, your small ship that has been parked dormant and untouched. He’s genuinely surprised - he doesn’t remember you talking about flying or knowing how to.
“Yeah, I used to want to be a pilot. I did a bunch of training and did a lot of test flying, but it didn’t work out in the end. Luckily I was serious enough that I bought this cheap little ship to practice. I don’t fly it much anymore given my job.” You’re out of breath as you talk, nerves on high alert to leave as you inspect your ship once the two of you are inside.
Aside from the dust that’s collected, everything seems to be in good condition. After powering on the engine, you notice your gas gauge isn’t as full as you’d like.
“Maybe I should grab gas before we head out.” Salax will take time to get to and you think you have enough but it could be cutting it close. You mention this to Joshua who steps out of the ship with you, prepared to head to a fueling station to buy a container of gas.
You don’t have a chance to do this when you hear shouting in the distance that sounds like both your name and Joshua’s automaton identification. When you look to your right, you see a handful of uniformed guards, running towards the two of you with weapons raised.
“Fuck never mind, we’ll have to chance it!” You grip Joshua’s hand and rush back into the ship. Once you stumble back aboard, you immediately rush to the cockpit and survey all of the controls until you find the one you need to close the door and start the engine.
As soon as you get the engine to start, you immediately begin to lift off, and you hear bullets hit the metal of the ship, but nothing seems to set off any of the emergency alarms. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the guards through the window, running toward the spaceship and waving their arms and weapons in the air. You ignore it as you take off, going up, up, up until you’re in the air, and heading out into the expanse of the sky, as streaks of orange appear in front of you with the impending sunrise.
You thank past you for leaving travel food and water rations behind on your ship after your last trip. It’s barely enough to get you through, you think, but it’ll do. There’s plenty of electricity for Joshua at least so he stays charged and well-rested on your journey. Your autopilot takes charge, keeping your ship coasting through the stars and on course for Salax.
As the days morph into weeks you lose track of time. All you can do is sleep, talk, or gaze into the expanse of space. The time allows you to learn more about Joshua beyond what you already know. Knowing he’s always wanted to get out and live a normal life makes you feel sad for some reason.
At least you’ve always had a choice. For Joshua, the whole reason he was even created was to be someone else’s to order around and do what they say. He’s never gotten a chance to do anything else.
“I’ve just always wanted to be a regular person. I see humans walking around wherever they want, doing whatever they want, whenever they want. I wanted it so bad I started hating humans, loathing even. Why can’t I have that, you know? Why was I made like this?” Joshua keeps his face turned away, eyes fixed on the sky outside. “I care about the rest of my members, but if I had a choice, I don’t think I’d choose this life. I’ve always just wanted to, I don’t know, push a button and have a do-over. Maybe start from my creation and be born and experience a normal, actual life and have human experiences.”
One of his hands rests in his lap, the other under his chin. You’re both sitting on a padded bench in front of one of the small windows, legs folded as you stare out into the dark. Slowly, you inch your hand closer, resting it on the one in his lap. The gesture startles him a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he turns his hand over to cup yours.
“You may not be able to start over in time, but this is still a way of starting over and starting a new life. You can at least do what you want now, for the most part.”
His smile falters a little as he thinks. “Do you think they’re still looking for us though? Will they come looking on Salax?”
“I’m not sure. We’re only stopping to meet with a friend of mine. He has a place we can stay for a night or so just to give us a chance to breathe since we’re off Earth. Plus, we’ll need to refuel when we get there since I couldn’t fill the tank before we had to leave.”
Joshua hums, more words on his mind. “Even if they come to find us, I won’t let them take us back. I want to start over and I won’t give up.”
He squeezes your hand and you return the gesture. “And I won’t either. Truthfully, I didn’t have much going on back on Earth except my job and I mean, you were my job anyway, so I can’t be missing much.”
Joshua doesn’t say anything else, he just nods. He looks like he has more words, maybe ask you something else, but he doesn’t, both of you going back to studying the stars, hands still locked.
“Can I ask you about your family?” Joshua questions you one day. He had heard you mention earlier that you were getting closer to Salax and that you were maybe a day away from arrival.
While soaring through space has been uneventful in terms of much of anything happening, it’s given Joshua a chance to finally, for once in his existence, relax. He hasn’t had to worry about rushing to schedules or singing and dancing. He’s been able to do nothing except sit, talk to you, and not have to worry about much else. It’s a much-needed break for him that he appreciates, even given the circumstances.
You’ve talked about how you didn’t love your job as a manager, but he made the job more enjoyable, and how being a pilot was the only thing you ever pursued, but that was another thing you didn’t love, even after all the work you put into getting a license and training.
So you had settled on this job when your friend, a former manager who worked with the group, decided to quit. You don’t have a roommate or any real friends other than a few acquaintances, but you’ve been skirting around talking about any parents or siblings and he’s curious. He doesn’t have any of that so he just wants to know.
The question makes you bristle and for a second, he wonders if he should take his question back and tell you to forget he asked, but after a moment you answer.
“They died. My mom was a pilot too and she got caught in a meteor shower and died when I was a teenager. Her ship took too many hits and she was close enough to Earth that she crashed on the other side of the planet. Then, my dad got sick a few years ago before I started working at the company and he passed.” Your hands fiddle with some peeling plastic on the control panel, not looking at Joshua.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“No, it’s okay. The question was bound to come up eventually. I’m not close with anyone else in my family - we all just grew apart over the years. It happens.” You shrug your shoulders, the air in the cockpit feeling heavier than it did before. Joshua approaches you, hesitant hands reaching out unsure where to touch to console you.
He feels nervous and second-guesses whether or not he should make contact, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but the slump of your shoulders tells him that you need comfort. So he reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to his chest. You stiffen, but only for a moment, before going lax in his hold.
Joshua keeps you in his arms, neither of you saying anything or making any move to separate. You stay like that until you start to yawn, tiredness finally hitting. He walks with you back to the room with the two cots you’ve both been sleeping in, tucking you in. Joshua moves to back away and go to the other cot, to rest himself, but you grab his arm, not letting him go.
“You can sleep over here with me tonight. If you want.” Your voice is small and even if he wanted to say no, which of course he doesn’t, he couldn’t anyway. So, Joshua climbs into the cot with you, letting you bury your face into his chest as he holds you.
You lay in silence for a few seconds before he speaks, “I’m your family now. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.” To him, it feels like the right thing to say and it’s the truth. Joshua has had his feelings for you growing over time and now that he's gotten this time with just the two of you, you are the most important person to him in the galaxy. He can’t imagine doing any of this without you ever again.
It’s quiet again before you sniffle, clinging closer to him, your fingers twisting in the fabric.
“Thank you, Joshua.”
“Of course.”
You fall asleep then, the gentlest of snores leaving you. He decides he’ll rest here and worry about charging when you wake up. He’s got enough juice not to shut down and he doesn’t want to risk waking you and having this moment stop for him.
Salax is as busy as you remember from the one time you’ve been. When you finally land a few days later, the spaceport is full of people departing from their ships. You see Hoseok almost immediately though, his wide smile and flailing arms unmistakable.
When you reach him, he pulls you into a hug, talking in your ear about how much he’s missed you.
“I missed you too, Hobi,” you laugh, using his old nickname.
He pulls back, lightly squeezing your shoulder before his eyes shift over to Joshua.
“And this is the friend you said you were bringing, right?”
“Yeah. This is Joshua.”
Joshua keeps his head low and bows to Hoseok who pulls him into a hug instead. “Nice to meet you! If Y/n likes you then I do too!” Joshua looks caught off guard but offers a hesitant smile in return.
Hoseok quickly ushers you both to follow him to his small home near the spaceport. Hoseok does ship repair on Salax, so he stays nearby which makes arriving and subsequently leaving easier. You don’t think anyone on Salax would turn Joshua in or tell that he’s here, seeing how so many people visit Salax for anonymity, but you don’t want to take any chances.
His house is small and simple: a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. He points you to the room you and Joshua will share including the bed you’ll both sleep in. The two of you had been resting on the two separate cots on your ship, except for the night he held you until you fell asleep, so this’ll be the first time you’ll be in the same bed since then.
You ignore that fact to focus on Hoseok telling you where everything is, adding that you can stay as long as you need.
“We appreciate it, but we need to be somewhere where we don’t have a chance of being recognized, so we won’t stay too long.” Joshua nods at your words, looking a little more relaxed now that you’re inside, away from anyone who could notice him.
The mechanic turns to look at you both, hands on his hips as he studies you.
“Okay, well now that we’re inside, you wanna tell me why you suddenly sent me a message practically begging me to let you crash here due to an emergency?”
Now that you’re on Salax and in the same room, you feel more comfortable telling Hoseok the truth. He makes you a hot meal as you talk, telling him about the escape and everything that happened between then and now. Hoseok listens the whole time, joining you with a plate of his own as you tell him that now you just need to find somewhere that’s safe and not likely to get caught. Somewhere you two can just live freely.
“Oh! Have you thought about Lumen?” Hoseok asks after you finish talking, his mouth full of noodles.
“Lumen?” The name sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t place it.
“It’s supposed to be the safest planet in the galaxy. I’ve heard people mention it in my travels, and a friend of mine told me a little more about it, but I’ve never been. You have to travel as far North from our solar system as you possibly can. It’s beside Galaxy 428B.”
“Are there people there? Is it super populated?”
“Yeah, there’s people of some kind there. And I’ve known quite a few people who have set out with Lumen in mind.”
“Do you know anyone who has been there and back?”
Hoseok shakes his head, leaning over his coffee table to pour you more water after you guzzle down your first glass.
“Nope. I just know it’s where people really want to be, especially people that may be looking for a new place to call home.”
You and Joshua’s eyes meet, sharing a look that you already know the definition of. You have to get to Lumen. Currently, there aren’t any other options for places for you two to go to live without constantly looking over your shoulders, waiting for someone from Earth to drag you both to Phylaca for the rest of your lives. The idea of no one having been to Lumen before makes you incredibly nervous, but it sounds like your best chance at any form of freedom.
Even without words, you can tell Joshua is likely thinking the same things, him offering you a simple head nod.
“We’ll go to Lumen, but we need fuel first though. You said it’s in another solar system?”
“Mmhmm. I can fuel you up for sure and take a look at your ship. I know you were never too good at any mechanical stuff.” Hoseok laughs at the frown and roll of your eyes you give him.
“Do you think you could do that today?”
“I have a few clients whose ships I have to look at today, but for you, I’ll get it done sooner rather than later. When are you trying to leave?”
“Uhh, is tomorrow going to work?”
Your old friend chokes on his food, coughing to swallow the noodles.
“Tomorrow?! You’re going to go soaring into the solar system to find a planet that no one has proof of existing, tomorrow?”
“Is that too short notice?” Hoseok blinks at you as if trying to decipher if you’re being serious. When you don’t crack a smile or say anything else, he quickly realizes that you are completely serious.
“Well shit, I guess not. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you. I’ll make sure you can at least make it out there and maybe even make it back if it doesn’t turn out the way you’re hoping. Just in case.”
Ignoring the idea of not even making it to your destination and possibly embarking on this trip for nothing, you swallow your current mouthful of food, thank Hoseok, and work towards finishing the rest of your plate. Having only eaten bagged or freeze-dried food while flying to Salax, you’re more than thankful for the hot meal.
After dinner, you take your first real, hot shower in forever. Your shower on the ship is cramped and small and the water never gets to the steamy temperature you prefer. While you bathe, your mind focuses only on the fact that you’ll get to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Hoseok lends you some of his clothes while yours that you’ve scrubbed clean dry, the cloth pants and t-shirt ill-fitting but they’re a nice change from the same two pairs of cargo pants and t-shirts you’ve been rotating through.
When you leave the bathroom, Joshua is sitting on Hoseok’s couch, also donned in his clothes, and is flipping through the TV.
“Hey,” you call out, getting his attention.
“Hey. I don’t think I’m used to seeing you in such casual clothes,” he laughs, eying your outfit.
“I could say the same for you. I’m used to seeing you in nothing but designer fits.”
“It’s nice though. I never really got to pick the clothes in my closet, only what I’d put on for the day.”
Joining him on the couch, you sit close, your legs not quite touching. It may sound stupid, but even given what’s happened up until now, you’re not sure where you and Joshua stand as far as your relationship - if you can even call it that. The most contact you’ve had other than holding hands as you ran for your lives, was the hug turned cuddle he gave you before you landed on Salax.
The one thing you do know is how much the care you have for him has blossomed into so much more than the crush you’ve harbored since you first started spending time together back on Earth. Doing nothing but spending uninterrupted time together has solidified for you just how special he is and how important he is to you. Leaving everything you’ve ever known in your life sounds crazy but doing it for Joshua - with Joshua - felt like the best decision you’ve ever made.
At this point you could say you love him, but is it too soon for that? Joshua’s never even been in a relationship so what does this all even mean to him?
Before you can think too hard about it, his arm raises, draping over your shoulder. Trying not to react too obviously, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way his jaw is tight, eyes still trained forward to the TV. Instead of saying anything, you lean against him and close the gap between the two of you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. You can revisit this conversation later, but for now, you just want to appreciate this moment of calm before you’re on the move again.
Later that night, after Hoseok finishes working on a few clients’ ships and makes dinner, he begins his inspection of your ship. You join him by the spaceport while Joshua stays behind to rest. You sit on a spare fold-out chair Hoseok carried from his house for you.
“So, an idol automaton huh?” He smirks, quirking an eyebrow as he fills up the gas tank.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“I don’t know, I just didn’t strike you as someone who’d end up with an automaton. And an idol at that. How taboo.” He’s teasing, of course, laughing when you scoff.
“I’ve never cared about someone being an automaton, a human, or an alien. I’m open-minded, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, yeah. But still, you gave up your whole life back on Earth for him.”
“I know that, but it’s not like I had a whole lot going for me anyway. My job was whatever, the people I hung out with weren’t reliable, and it’s not like my family talks to me. It seemed like the only thing that made sense. Still does.”
“You must really like him.”
“I do. A whole lot. People can say what they want but automatons are just as much human as us. So what if they don’t bleed or have organs? They have personalities and feelings and sentience and Joshua is eons better to be around than any human I’ve met.”
Hoseok gives you a look over his clear work glasses.
“Not including you obviously. But I do like him. I didn't think about whether I'd go with him or not when he said he wanted to escape. I didn’t second-guess it or anything. I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”
“Who knew you could be so sappy!” You flip him off, Hoseok only cackling at the gesture as he puts away his gas canister and moves around the ship to inspect it. “Well, I’m happy for you, Y/n. I know life has been feeding you shit for way too long. Being a fugitive seems like the nicest thing the universe could’ve done for you.”
“I agree. I just needed to run for my life to another planet for some real fulfillment.”
Hoseok rambles on as he does his inspection, telling you that things have been good for him too. He’s been in Salax for a couple of years and isn’t sure if how long he’ll stay, but he makes decent money now and has a solid clientele. He too seems much happier since he left Earth and you can’t blame him. Hoseok has always been a friendly man. The only reason you became friends was because he befriended you in pilot school and attached himself to you. At first, he was a little too excitable for your taste, but over the years he’s only served to become a staple in your life - even when he left Earth for a different life. He’s always been a ray of sunshine in your life, but seeing him shine even brighter now satisfies you.
After a thorough inspection, Hoseok only sees minor dings from the bullets on Earth and a rusted thruster which he says he can fix with no problem. He sends you to bed, ignoring your insistence to help him.
“Just because you can fly the ship doesn’t mean you know how to fix it,” he chides, waving you off. That’s also true. You know the controls on most standard ships and can navigate well, but when it comes to parts and repair, that’s not your strong suit.
“Don’t stay out here too late doing all this, okay? If you need to rest and work on it more tomorrow, we don’t mind.”
“Nah, I’ll have it done in two, three hours tops. Besides, you’re on the run. You can’t afford to stick around too long.”
He shoos you away one more time and you finally listen, making your way back to his house, at least bringing your chair back with you.
Joshua didn’t mean to eavesdrop per se. He just wanted to know where you were and when you were coming to rest. Since it’s dark out, the panic of staying hidden so much isn’t as intense, so he leaves Hoseok’s house to come find you at the spaceport. It’s not hard to see the two of you when not many people are out here at this time. As he approaches, he notices you and Hoseok are talking but doesn’t pick up what you’re talking about until he gets closer and hears his name. He ducks behind a ship parked a little ways away from yours, ears tuning in when he hears you talking about him.
He realizes that you’ve just said out loud that you like him. A lot. Joshua thinks if he had a beating heart it’d be pounding in his chest. Ever since you started to grow closer on the trip here, he’s wanted so badly to tell you that he wants to be more than friends with you. He knows for a fact he’s wanted to kiss you for a long, long time and he’s been holding out hope that maybe that time will come soon, especially now that it’s just the two of you.
He’s decided against it each time it passed his mind on the flight here and it came back when you rested your head on him earlier. You were so warm and so soft and you smelled amazing and he wanted nothing more than to finally kiss you, but he didn’t. You haven’t had a conversation about what you felt for him. He knows it’s always been more than professional, and he thinks that maybe it’s romantic, but the last thing he wants to do is assume.
“I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”
Hearing you say that - that you’ll do this together, does give him the courage he needs, especially knowing that you do care about him in a non-platonic way.
When the conversation shifts between you and Hoseok, he lingers for a little while longer, then decides to go back to the house to let you and your friend catch up. When Joshua first met Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel something negative stir in him when he embraced you, but when Hoseok did the same to him and continued to be extremely friendly, Joshua’s guard dropped.
Once he’s back to the house he retreats to the room you and he will share, getting into the bed you’ll both sleep in. The idea of sleeping so close to you again makes Joshua smile, wanting to put his arm around you like he did a few days ago. That gesture had taken courage he didn’t know he had, but since he’s done it and now that he knows you also have romantic feelings for him, there’s a new sense of boldness rushing through his wiring.
Joshua hears the front door open, but he only hears what sounds like a single person walking around. He wonders if it’s you, and when the bedroom door opens the next moment and he sees you poke your head in, he smiles softly at you.
“Hi,” he greets, watching you close the door before coming over to the bed and slipping under the covers, facing away from him.
“Hey,” your voice is a whisper even though he doesn’t hear Hoseok moving about. He drapes one of his arms over your waist and you immediately scoot back into him, his front pressed against your back. Joshua can’t help but lean over and inhale your scent, enjoying the way you smell like what he can only describe as home for him.
His lips are dangerously close to the soft skin of your neck and he wrestles with the idea of placing a kiss there for minutes, weighing the consequences before doing it. Joshua lets his lips graze your neck and he instantly hears the way your breath catches in your throat and notices that you jerk yourself back, body rubbing against him.
“Sorry,” you blurt, your body stiffening, but Joshua doesn’t mind.
“For what?”
“I don’t know, I just reacted. That’s a really sensitive spot for me.” You sound embarrassed, but Joshua isn’t bothered in the slightest.
Instead, he leans over and kisses that same spot again, getting the same reaction and he determines that he needs you to react like that more. His lips attach to your neck again, sucking a mark on the skin with enough force to make your toes curl. Tiny whines leave you as he lavishes your soft skin with his mouth and one of his hands - hands that are much bigger than yours - roams over your body, sliding up until he’s cupping your breast over your shirt. He cups you, fingers finding your nipple through the fabric.
You let out a gasp of his name and Joshua groans at the sound. Hearing you like this, all for him only makes him want you more.
He’s much more confident as he slips his hand under your shirt, kneading at your breast without the clothing barrier. Pleasure shoots up your spine as his fingers tug and tweak at your nipples, alternating between playing with each one. For a moment, you mentally apologize to Hoseok as you feel wetness pool between your legs, surely making the crotch of the pants messier with each twist of his fingers and each swipe of his tongue.
You’re sure he’s left your neck littered with marks with the way he’s teasing you without even realizing it.
“Joshua,” you breathe out, needing so badly to be touched elsewhere. You hadn’t planned on having your first time with him be so soon, but your building desire for him has only gotten more intense and he’s here right now, touching you like this and you need him so badly.
“What is it?”
“Need you to touch me.”
“Where?”
Instead of using your words, you take his hand and direct him beneath the waistband of your pants and between your legs.
“Oh my god, Y/n, you’re so wet,” His words are more of an observation, his tone full of surprise as he swirls his fingers through your arousal. You still clench around nothing at what he says and maneuver his fingers to your clit.
“Rub right there,” you direct him and he does, your body instantly jerking.
“Like this?” The pads of his fingers catch against your clit roughly and he’s using the perfect amount of pressure to have you stifling your moans, and failing miserably.
“Just like that, fuck.” Joshua adjusts to get a better look at you, gasping when he sees your expression. Your eyes flutter open and closed with each sound you make. Your lips are pulled between your teeth, eyebrows knitting together. Your hips move along with his hand, chasing the release that’s so close yet so far away.
Joshua’s fingers get curious, trailing lower to your sticky folds, prodding at your entrance.
“Yes, please,” you beg him, trying to adjust to get his fingers inside of you. He obliges, slipping a thick digit into your pussy, and you let out another soft whimper.
Joshua revels in how slippery you feel around his finger and how tight your body is. He pumps his finger in and out of you and lets out a pleased sound of his own. He’s never felt anything like this before, and everything in him is on high alert, his hunger for you stirring deep within him.
He slips another finger inside of you and you react immediately. One of your hands grasps at his arm, your nails digging in.
“Faster, please.”
He obliges, fingers pistoning out of you quicker than you’re ready for. You see stars dot your vision as the tips of his fingers brush that sensitive, spongy spot in you, your orgasm rushing at you with each move of his wrist. The fact that Joshua is an automaton nearly slips your mind until you take notice of just how fast he’s moving. He was built with endurance in mind which means he doesn’t tire the same as you or any past partners. In the past, at this point, a human’s arm would’ve gotten tired, but not Joshua's. His fingers continue to pummel your pussy, palm now cupping you, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit.
His pace stays steady and soon you’re hurdling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name. You have to twist your head and bury your face in the pillow to muffle your yelp as you cum, trying to stay mindful that the third person in this house could hear you falling apart around Joshua’s fingers at any moment.
The automaton marvels at you when your body tenses up before going lax, your hips stuttering as you buck against his hand a few more times. Joshua is obsessed with this - with you. Obsessed with the way you feel in his arms and his hands and how you feel around his fingers. He can’t help but wonder just how good you’ll feel around his dick. He’s already hard, his erection grinding into your lower back. That pressure feels good, but he just knows having his dick inside of you will be even better.
“Joshua. Please, I need you - need your cock. Do you want to?”
“Yes, I need to feel you so bad.” You take a moment to think through your lust, wondering which position would be best given the small bed and Joshua’s limited experience. You quickly decide to ride him, taking his fingers out of you so you can strip.
With wide, eager eyes, he watches you undress, eyes studying every inch of bare skin he gets to see. Curiosity overcomes him when his eyes dart to his still drenched fingers and he brings them to his mouth. When you’re naked and turn back to Joshua, you moan at the sight of him sucking your arousal off of his fingers. His eyes slip closed, and he lets out a satisfied hum so deep, your pussy aches at the mere sound.
Frantic hands help him out of his sleep clothes next, your eyes sweeping over him in the dim moonlight that creeps in through the cracks in the blinds. He’s unblemished and perfect. His arms and chest are buff and sculpted and the urge to cover him in marks of your own is strong, but that will have to wait. You need him so bad and you want to finish before Hoseok returns for the night, the fear of being overheard making you move with purpose.
You take in the sheer size and girth of his cock, recalling yet again that he was made to be perfect in every way. For a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him all the way, but you’re sure as hell going to try.
Joshua moans out loud when you grip his length, giving him a few strokes. He watches you spit on it, using your saliva to slick him up before you swing your leg over his waist. Keeping his dick steady, you hover over him, the tip slowly breaching your entrance as you ease down further.
Each inch of him has your body shaking above him, both of you letting out shared noises of pleasure. When he’s fully sheathed inside of you, a cry from the depths of your stomach slips out. You’ve never felt so full in your life and the stretch of him is almost too much.
You lift yourself on your knees before dropping back down, eyes squeezing shut at how good he feels. It’s hard to find a rhythm, at first, but when you do, it’s desperate and sloppy but exactly what you need. Joshua’s hands rest on your waist as he thrusts upward each time you lower, fucking up into you in perfect unison with your movements.
“Joshua, fuck. You’re s-so big,” you mewl, hands planted on his chest as you bounce.
“You like that?”
“I fucking love it.”
Pride takes over Joshua as his hold on you tightens. He pushes his hips up even faster, watching your eyes widen and your mouth hang open. He wants to memorize you like this. You’re always stunning, and you have been since the moment he met you, but this is a different kind of beauty that he’s never seen and he loves it.
Joshua plants his feet on the bed, using the leverage to thrust up with more force, almost knocking you over the side of the bed, but his hands keep you put.
“S-shit. Joshua, Shua, just like that!” The shortened version of his name just slips out and Joshua decides that he enjoys the sound of it.
He moves at a speed that makes you dizzy, the bed underneath you creaking under the force. Joshua is fucking you so hard, so rough, and you swear each thrust is deeper than the last even with you on top.
“Star, you feel so good. So tight around me,” Joshua grunts. “You’re so perfect.”
“I’m so close, Shua. I’m g-gonna cum!”
“Cum for me, Star. Wanna see you,” His eyes take in your expression of ecstasy and the way your breasts bounce, but they finally land on your lips. They look so red since you’ve been gnawing on them and they look so shiny, practically calling to him to kiss you.
He does just that, one of his hands moving up to the back of your head to pull you down to his face. Joshua’s lips collide with yours, kissing you for the first time. The sensation is foreign to him, yet it feels like this is where he always should’ve ended up, here with you, buried deep inside of your warmth while your lips mold together, moving in a frantic rhythm as you swallow each other’s needy sounds.
Joshua’s tongue breaches the seam of your lips, lapping at every inch of your mouth he can reach. He eagerly wraps his tongue around yours and suckles while driving his hips up again and again. His lap is covered in your wetness and he feels you tremble above him.
“I’m cumming, Shua, I’m cumming!” You whine into his mouth and in the next second your limbs go stiff as you topple over the edge, vision blurring as you cum. The breath gets knocked out of you as you turn to jelly in Joshua’s arms. He has to keep you upright, but then he cums right after you, hips almost bruising yours while he shoves himself into you to the hilt, painting your gummy walls with his release.
A pathetic whimper falls from your lips as he empties into you, pumping you even fuller. He only falters a little as he fucks his cum back up into you.
“J-Joshua. Please, I’m so sensitive,” your voice sounds scratchy to your ears and it matches how tired the rest of you is.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls out of you carefully and oh so gently.
You flop next to him, lying in a heap against him as he wraps the blankets around you both.
“Wow,” he speaks after a while, almost feeling like he’s floating.
“Yeah. I can’t believe that was your first time.”
“It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done.” You can’t help but chuckle at him, fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down his arm draped over your waist.
“Just remember that I don’t have the stamina you do. I need a little time between to get my strength back.”
“I can wait. Do you need anything? I can go get you some water or I can get another blanket.”
“No, no. The only thing I need from you is to hold me.”
“I can do that.” He leans over you again to plant a kiss on your cheek, the gesture incredibly sweet.
“Good night, Joshua.”
“Good night, Star.”
The sun wakes you up the next morning, your body feeling sore and warm. When you realize that you’re still in Joshua’s arms naked, you remember last night. You smile to yourself, turning to look at him, seeing his eyes are already open.
“Good morning,” he greets, kissing you as soon as he catches sight of your lips. He swallows up your attempt to respond, a large hand cupping your face.
When he finally lets you go after you remind him again that you do need to breathe, he stays close to your face.
“I think I’ve found my new favorite thing,” he muses.
“And what’s that?”
“Kissing you. I think it might even be better than having sex with you.”
You snort at his answer, trying to hide the way your face burns at his words. “Well, you can do plenty of both of those things once we’re in flight again, but we should probably get a move on the day.”
He pouts momentarily, but finally agrees, letting you get up with one more kiss.
Hoseok is up when you’re dressed and leave the room, already in the kitchen when you come in.
“Morning sleepy head! You guys gonna head out soon?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to shower again since I won’t get the luxury of a full-sized shower on the ship.”
“Go for it. Your clothes are dry also, they’re on the couch. And you have to make sure you eat and take some food! Your boyfriend can’t eat but you have to!”
Both you and Joshua look at each other when he says that, but neither of you says anything about the new title for him, which Hoseok notices, laughing at the looks on your faces.
Two hours later when you’re fed, showered, and packed, Hoseok walks you to your ship, both you and Joshua are well-rested and ready for your journey. He demands that you try and radio him when you get there (“and you will get there,” he makes sure to add).
“I can’t thank you enough for this, Hoseok. You’re really saving us here.”
“Of course. It’s the least I can do for my friend.” He flashes you his heart-shaped smile once more and gives you a bear hug, arms squeezing you tight. “Be safe okay? I’ll be here for a while if you need me."
“I appreciate you more than I can say. And I say this with love, but I hope I don’t need to come back.”
“Fair. I also say this with love, but me too.”
Hoseok embraces Joshua next, telling him to take good care of you.
“I will. I always will.”
Another round of goodbyes later and you’re both back on your ship. You punch in the vague coordinates Hoseok could give you. Since no one knows where Lumen is exactly, all you can do is type in coordinates that are North, next to Galaxy 428B, and hope for the best.
Right before you lift off the ground, you wave at Hoseok through the window then steer the ship until you start your ascent. Once you breach the last layer of the atmosphere, you’re off again and you turn on the autopilot, letting your ship take over and do the most tedious part which is coasting until you reach your destination, whenever that’ll be.
“Are we on our way?” Joshua finally asks from his seat to your right as the dark expanse of outer space stretches in front of you.
“Yep. We’ve probably got months of just this.”
“And the ship is flying itself?”
“Well yeah, that’s how autopilot works, remember? We did it for Salax.”
“Just checking,” Joshua gives you a look that you can’t decipher before getting up and making it to you in a few strides, crashing his lips against yours. He kisses you breathlessly yet again, pulling away and letting you pant against his lips.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“You said we could when we were back on the ship,” he pouts, his round, brown eyes sparkling back at you.
“I know and we can, but right now?”
“Only if you want to, of course.”
“I do.”
“Good!” Joshua scoops you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing and carries you to the sleeping quarters of the ship.
“Oh my god, I’ve created a sex monster!” You giggle as he places you on one of the cots and starts pulling his clothes off.
“Not my fault being inside you is the best experience I’ve ever felt. And now we have so much time to spend doing it.”
You can’t really argue with him on that. There isn’t much to do when you’re coasting through space for an undetermined amount of time. So, you let Joshua get his fill of your body until you need to rest, eat, use the bathroom, and check the course of the ship.
Once all of your obligations are done, he fucks you again and again, almost making up for all of the time you couldn’t spend together. Joshua is an extremely fast learner and becomes an expert on all of the things you like and the ways you like to be touched in no time. And even though you’re exhausted you can’t find it in you to complain.
The time to Lumen feels almost unbearable. It’s a much longer journey than any you’ve ever taken. It gives you even more time to spend with Joshua which makes it all the more bearable. Lying and talking with him occupies all of your time (when he’s not bending you over any surface on the ship he can to try all of the things he’s only ever heard about). You love how easy it is to be with him and how easily he’s picked on habits of being a boyfriend and taking care of you. Even if you weren’t stuck in a flying metal tin with him you still don’t think you’d get sick of spending time with him like this.
That being said, you can’t help the paranoia that still creeps into your mind. What if this trip is all for nothing? What if you are flying towards a dead end and there is no Lumen, only a galaxy that goes on forever and ever? Sure, you can go back to Salax - you know that Hoseok will help you both and likely hide you until you deem it safe to be out and about on the planet, but you’ve never been very fond of Salax and don’t know if you necessarily want to call it your home long term.
“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Joshua interrupts your overactive brain, your doubts sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.
You turn away from the window that you’ve been transfixed staring out of for who knows how long. You pull the blanket you’re draped in tighter around your body giving Joshua a small quirk of your lips.
“Yeah, I was just thinking…”
“Clearly,” Joshua sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you close. “About what?” Your body automatically leans into him, enjoying the warmth emanating from his bare chest.
“I’m just worried. What if we don’t find Lumen? Hoseok said that he doesn’t even know anyone who’s successfully made it and reported back. That’s terrifying. What if all of those people didn’t make it? What if they just ended up floating in space forever? Or what if Lumen is extremely hostile or unsafe? What if any of those travelers died? What if -”
“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Joshua stops your spiraling, turning you in his arms to face him. “We don’t know any of those things, okay? All we can do is keep going and see where we end up. Worrying about it won’t help now will it?”
“No…”
“Exactly. So let’s just see what happens. How long do we have before we reach the galaxy it’s supposedly next to?”
“I’ll check,” he lets you unravel yourself from his hold so you can approach the cockpit to read the navigation. “We’re actually not that far from Galaxy 428B. Maybe another few weeks or so if we’re lucky. It’s already been a few months since we left Salax so it hopefully won’t be too much longer. If it’s even there that is.”
“Sit down, Star.” The usage of your nickname from Joshua’s lips only serves to make you melt, doing as he says and sinking into the seat in front of the control panel. Joshua approaches you, spinning the chair to face him and bending at the waist to kiss you.
His lips move over yours lazily, tongue soon following to poke your lips, asking for entrance. You let him in, his tongue immediately moving into your mouth. Joshua kisses you hard, hands cradling your face as your arms loop around his neck.
Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs open to get a look at your bare core. He makes a sound of appreciation deep in the back of his throat before surging forward, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue licks you from your entrance up to your clit a few times. Already having you sinking down in the seat to get closer to his face.
Joshua’s tongue plunges into your hole as he eats you out sloppily but with purpose. He laps at you, making out with your cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as you yell out for him, legs shaking as they wrap around his head to keep him where he is.
You already know Joshua is coaxing an orgasm out of you to distract you and keep you from worrying and it’s definitely working.
Joshua has done his best to be the calm one out of the two of you. When you start to stress and worry about where your journey will take you, he uses words of reassurance to keep you level-headed and uses sex to distract you which seems to work for both of you. When you’re not doing that though or when you’re asleep is when he also starts to have his own thoughts of dread.
Of course, he has the same worries as you; worries that your trip will only end in your demise or that you’ll get lost in space. It’s been months since you started your journey into the unknown and neither of you have any idea if you’re anywhere closer to your end goal. Joshua knows he can’t truly die, not in the same way a human, you, would. At worst, he’ll run out of charge if the ship is somehow damaged to the point that the electricity goes out. Then he’s in trouble. But you, there are so many terrible things that could happen to you.
You could starve or freeze to death. If you’re attacked by pirates you could be injured or even killed. The list of terrible things that could fall upon you is endless and it’s the main thing that sometimes keeps him from relaxing and letting himself close his eyes. It’s why he’s up now, leaving you curled up in the sleeping area while he paces the main part of the ship, willing his active imagination to shut up.
He nearly starts to spiral even more, when in the distance he spots something that isn’t just another moon or an asteroid. It looks an awful lot like a planet. A planet that looks a little like Earth from this distance.
Joshua frantically surveys the navigation before giving up, knowing he can’t read what it means.
“Star! Y/n!” He runs to the sleeping area, calling you until you groggily sit up, calling him in response.
“Joshua?”
“There’s a planet! It’s not super close but it looks a little like Earth!”
You’re up as soon as he finishes his sentence and sprinting to the cockpit to check the navigation.
“We definitely passed Galaxy 428B and the coordinates look right. Holy shit, what if that’s Lumen?!” He joins you as you continue flying towards the planet. It’s still going to take a few minutes, but you both stand there the whole time, hands tangled together as you wait for any signals that you’re close enough to possibly speak to someone on the intercom system.
The minutes feel like hours as they crawl by, the planet getting clearer and clearer as you approach. It really does look like Earth.
You grip Joshua’s hands even harder, his fingers caressing your knuckles to try and keep your nerves calm. When you’re close enough to start to see more details, you take the ship out of autopilot to steer it. Joshua rests his hand on your shoulders, watching as you press a few buttons on what you’d mentioned was the intercom system.
“Hello? We are requesting permission to land.” You speak, your words steady even though Joshua can feel how you tremble in his hold.
After a minute or so a voice comes back, asking you for your registration and the reason for your visit.
“Our registration is DA471561J. We’re travelers looking to land permanently.”
There’s a beat of silence as your hands grip the steering device, both of you waiting for a response.
“Permission to land is granted. There is a dock just East of your current location. Welcome to Lumen.”
A sob slips out of your mouth when you hear the greeting, thanking the voice. Joshua wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you change your direction, presumably to the East.
“We made it, Star. We made it to Lumen.”
“We did,” you sniffle loudly and Joshua holds you closer.
“I love you, Star,” he whispers. It’s not something he’s ever thought he could feel, let alone say to someone.
And then you came into his life and made it clear that he is capable of love and most importantly, he’s in love with you.
“Joshua…I love you too,” you breathe, tears still pricking your eyes. You love him so much - the words had been hanging on your tongue for a while, but your nerves never let you say them until now. Now that you know that Joshua loves you too.
The worry that had been sitting heavy on both of your shoulders slips away at the fact that you’ve made it safely to your new home after flying for so long and that you’re both doing it with the person that you love.
You stay close to Joshua when the two of you finally land and are greeted by some of the citizens of Lumen. You don't think you’ve ever seen this many different inhabitants on one planet, not that you mind.
A few of them introduce themselves and when they ask your names, you tell them Joshua and Star. Hearing them call you both by your new, preferred names really makes this feel real. You both thank everyone nearly a hundred times, mentioning that you’re from Earth and you are hoping this is your new home.
“Oh! You’re from Earth too!” A little girl exclaims as she clings to the adult she’s with who you assume is her mom. “There’s another person here with a robot from Earth!” Her mother shushes her, but you insist it’s okay.
“Do you know where they are?” Joshua asks the mother, who nods.
“Yes, they’re living in a house that’s just outside of a town not far from here. It’s near where we live. I’ll show you.”
“Please.” Joshua looks at you, eyes full of hope and you nod back enthusiastically. You don’t want to get too excited and assume that it’s one of his former members, but there’s a chance. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless.
You and Joshua arrive at the house the mother and her child directed you to, seeing the sheer size of it. You both scan the area as you approach, noting the little garden and the lush forest behind it.
As you approach, Joshua scans the surrounding area, not seeing anyone else around. He’s about to voice his curiosity about the place when he feels your steps falter next to him. When he looks over at you, he sees your wide eyes staring straight ahead at the house. He follows your gaze, spying someone coming out of the front door, face turned up, casually glancing at the sky. At first, he doesn’t think anything of it until the man turns, glancing over as if looking right at him.
“Oh my god…Joshua, it’s -”
“Seungcheol,” he’s already noticed him, looking shell-shocked at seeing his leader - his family - again after so long.
The two of you break into a run to get to your new home and sense of familiarity. You and Joshua want this to be a new start for both of your lives and it looks like you won’t have to do it alone.
Net tag: @kflixnet
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~ Last Updated: April 13, 2024 ~
(all fics with smut will be labeled with a *)
Series’s
Someday We’ll Be Together
Old Flame (Coming mid-2024)
Imagine Universe’s (IU’s) - Key
Baby, I Love You
My Girl
Into The Mystic
Everlasting Love
Just the Two of Us
Collections
Listen to the Music
Mini-Series’s
Maneater / One Night Standards / She’s Electric /
-
Ruin My Life
Miscellaneous
Imagines
December 3rd
Don't Give up on Me
You're My Best Friend
One of These Nights
Smile
Shining Star*
invisible string
Delicate
——
Blurbs
Girls Night / Mine*
More Than A Woman
——
Concepts (excerpts from future fics)
Not Just Your Man
Scott Streat
Ceiling
Pictures
High School Joe - Part 1
High School Joe - Part 2
High School Joe - Part 3
High School Joe - Part 4
Long-haired edits - Part 1
Long-haired edits - Part 2
Long-haired edits - Part 3
Long-haired edits - Part 4
About Me & My Writing Posting Order
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Frohe Weihnachten
Boyfriend To Death Strade X F! Reader X Ren
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! By some miracle of the holiday season I have arrived and even wrote something, even if it is random and I struggled to get finished before Christmas. But I did it and now I offer it to you humbly as a lil gift.
This month has unfortunately bad. All the bad had me looking for distractions to keep me from the gloom, and the search for distractions lead me to replaying Boyfriend To Death 1, and replaying BTD made me start Boyfriend to Death 2, and well… Here we are. It’s been one of the few things I could focus on that brought me joy this month (what that says about my mental health we will leave up to interpretation loooooool :)), so I decided to try my hand at writing something for it. It proved to be a fun challenge, and I am hoping to do some more BTD stuff in the future. :3
ANYWAY here is a Strade-centric fic (Ren is there too, though) I churned out amidst the December bs. He’s spoiling you in it which isn’t really a good thing for you. I hope I did him justice. He is a very nuanced guy and I had a lot of fun writing this. I can slowly feel god awful, horrible men becoming my forte , and at this point I am just embracing it.
Please be mindful that BTD and BTD2 are adult games, so even though there is no explicit NSFW in this fic, it is for 18+ only just as its source material is. No one under the age of 18 should be reading this, thank you!
WARNINGS: Torture, stabbing, blood, degradation, forced stripping, pet play, mentions of rape/noncon, Strade is filming a snuff film and though you are a part of it, you are not the one being snuffed (congrats!), severing of body parts, nonconsensual filming and touching, kidnapping, imprisonment, butchered German (my highschool German teacher is crying somewhere) and probs some shoddy editing (sorry for the rush!).
Staring down at the gifts laid out before you, a thin layer of sweat began to coat your body.
It wasn’t so much that the boxes wrapped in vibrant, pretty, paper were that unnatural (it was Christmas day, after all) so much as it was shocking that you had received them at all, given the circumstances.
This was your first Christmas away from home, the first holiday season spent without the company of your friends and family, and their absence felt like a swift punch in the gut. None of the old traditions and celebrations you were accustomed to partaking in were around to bring you comfort this year, the laid back, pleasant atmosphere that typically encapsulated Christmas was nowhere to be found. Any jolly vibe was replaced by discomfort, apprehension, and a festering disquiet that permeated the air, killing any and all fun normal for this day.
Across from the looming assortment of gifts, each wrapped in varying degrees of expertise, sat your captor Strade, and parked next to him was your fellow captive Ren. Both sets of eyes were drinking you in with great interest, the out-of-place youthful enthusiasm reflecting back at you doing little to quell your mounting anxiety. You shifted nervously in your seat, trying your best to remain calm. You had no idea what manner of sick surprise awaited you in those packages, all you knew was that you were dreading opening them, especially with these two watching. Thinking of what the wrong reaction to their presents may illicit was more stress inducing than the gifts themselves, which already made you feel like you were developing a hernia.
“Well, go ahead,” Strade was the first to speak, his lazy drawl and splayed out body contradicting heavily with the frenzied look in his eye, “What are you waiting for?”
Ren nodded beside him eagerly, “Go ahead, (name)! I opened mine earlier because I was too excited to wait,” he chuckled a little, a small, bashful blush illuminating his cheeks, “And um, there’s a few for you in there from me so… I hope you like them.”
Your eyes traveled from the men, down to the presents. You swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by their façade of innocence, violated by their unblinking stares.
“I-I’m sorry, I just um… Wasn’t really expecting… this…”
It wasn’t a lie, the last thing you could have predicted was a present, let alone multiple. You figured maybe Ren would get you something (he had the luxury of internet access, something you were yet to be trusted with), but it wasn’t even within the realm of fantasy that you may receive anything from Strade. The only thing you dared hope for was a small reprieve from the abuse he inflicted daily, but even that seemed too farfetched to hope for.
“Well, I say you deserve it,” Strade spoke, the calm cadence of his voice still clashing with the gleam in his eye, “what’s Christmas without presents, after all? So go ahead, open them.”
You hesitated for a moment before finally reaching a shaky hand towards the closet gift on the table. Your body was moving mechanically, and though your fear was palpable, you forced your demeanor to remain composed as you pulled the small box into your lap. Your fingers carefully tore through the thin paper, dreading revealing the mystery that shiny paper shielded you from.
And as the paper fell away piece by piece, you were shocked to find that the box contained… slippers.
You stared at them for a moment, dumbfounded. Of all the things in the world that could have been waiting inside that box, to receive something so innocuous and normal was beyond perplexing.
And the gifts continued this way. You unwrapped package after package of clothing, perfumes and toiletries, stuffed animals and snacks. Each new item bewildered you just as much as the last, leaving you feeling like all this was just the lead up of a joke, one you felt like you were the punch line for.
As if the gifts themselves weren’t mind boggling enough, the quantity and quality of them were just as shocking. Brand names and fancy, high end packaging stared back at you with nearly each ripped wrapping, a small slap in the face with each revelation.
It left a pit in your stomach. Not even your own parents would gift you some of these things, so why were you being treated this way by a homicidal maniac and his companion? To make matters even worse, most of the gift you actually liked. Definite thought was put into each present, unnerving you most of all. You didn’t want them to know your likes and dislikes, and you certainly didn’t want them to be so familiar with you that they could easily pick out things you may desire. It felt borderline offensive that they were able to peg you so well, like you had been wrenched open and all the hidden parts of yourself you had been hiding had been forced out in the open, secrets uncovered you wished to remain hidden.
Heebie jeebies aside, such normalcy left you scratching your head. You had an intense urge to inspect each and every item to make sure the clothes weren’t secretly lined with razors, or the stuffed animals weren’t just cute ways to conceal knives, but you contained yourself. No use in setting them off when things were going surprisingly well.
You kept yourself neutral as you thanked them, neither over eager or ungrateful as you graciously accepted the offerings. Ren beamed in recognition each time you mentioned him, delighted by the simplest praise. Strade remained nonchalant, leaning back as he leered at you with that unnerving smile he always so proudly donned on his face.
When the present pile had come to an end, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over you. You felt like you had made it out of a vary harrowing journey without so much as a scratch, and felt quite accomplished for doing so.
However, before you could feel the weight truly lifted from your shoulders, any sense of triumph quickly flew out the door as Strade slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His beady eyes drilled holes through you, delighting in the apprehension his subtle shift caused you. Your blood turned to ice as he gave you a lopsided grin, his words coming out drawn out and slow, as if he were speaking to a child.
“Myyy look at that,” he sneered, “so many nice things for our (Name)! She must have some very generous admirers. It’s obvious she’s the favorite, not a single one of those boxes were for you or me, Ren!”
The weight of your situation suddenly crashed down around you. Of course these gifts wouldn’t come without some horrible caveat-you were an idiot for even thinking you would get away with this scot free.
You tried to calm yourself with the fact that Strade most likely wouldn’t go through all the hassle of spending all this money on someone he planned to kill shortly after. What would be the point? But that thought birthed an even worse fear, the expectation of getting something back in return. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be able to provide him a physical gift, a fact Strade was intimately aware of. That left you with one option- he was looking for reciprocation through different means.
You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you clasped them in your lap, struggling with how to word the imminent question you had.
“Do you want… I mean, should I get you something in return?”
You hated how small your voice sounded, dreading the response your words may garner. A shiver rocked you as the smile on Strade’s face spread, his arms spreading out in a dramatic shrug as he shook his head with a laugh.
“No no, please! The only thing I want in return is for you to thoroughly enjoy your gifts, nothing else is needed. Your delight is a gift in and of itself.”
His words did little to help your dwindling nerves. A sudden harsh clap of his hands made your heart skip a beat, his body pivoting to face Ren with a sadistic smile.
“I almost forgot,” he exclaimed, his voice taking a dangerous edge, “we have one more very special surprise for our girl, don’t we?”
Your attention darted to Ren, hoping for a sign of assurance from him. The beatskin started to squirm a bit in his seat, pulling nervously at the hem of his oversized sweater. He looked over at you with lidded eyes, a dangerous gleam in them that you knew was a terrible precursor of the pain to come.
Ren’s breathing had grown unsteady, the blush that had engulfed his face becoming so vibrant you could almost feel its heat from where you sat. While there was nervousness to his demeanor, he couldn’t quite mask the hints of his exhilaration from peeking through. The guileless enthusiasm was hard to face, causing you to avert your gaze, your heart sinking deeper. Ren was no saint himself, but he was all you had in this hell that masqueraded as a normal, middle class home. He was supposed to have your back (and often times did) in moments like these, but it appeared his demons won this round. The thrill radiating from him over your oncoming misery was perceptible. You were on your own with whatever lay ahead.
With a jerk of Strades head, Ren bounded off the couch to another room, the sound of subtle clanging reaching your ears as he dug around out of sight. You careened your body, hoping to maybe get a peek of whatever the hell Ren had ran so jubilantly to acquire, but you immediately stopped once you heard a chuckle rumble from Strade’s chest.
“My my~,” he purred, the sound causing an instinctive shiver, “so eager this morning (name)! I can only hope you keep that up once you see what the surprise actually is, hm?”
Before you had a chance to respond, Ren barreled back into the room, slightly out of breath and clutching some sort of metallic, chain linked contraption in is hand.
“Sorry,” he lightly huffed, handing the item in question to Strade, “I hid it really well so it took a moment to get.”
Once it was in his grasp, Strade turned to you, holding out the item so you could finally view it in all its glory.
It was a new collar-a dog training collar, to be precise. This one however had been modified, the spikes lining the interior of the collar, while typically coated with a thick, squishy plastic to as not to hurt the dog in their training stage, were missing their protection. The metal nubs that the plastic encased were also typically dull and rounded on most training collars, meant to poke and prod instead of maim and hurt. You would not be getting that manner of gentle encouragement it seemed, your body tensing as you stared at each harshly pointed spike. The needle like protrusions glistened so brilliantly in the overhead light it almost appeared as if the collar was made of diamonds.
You sat perfectly still, in a complete daze as Strade approached you and swiftly released the thick electric collar from around your neck. The cool air hit your sweat drenched flesh, giving you a chill. While it was nice to be without the weight of that vile contraption, the freedom was only momentary as he clasped your new chain links into place across your throat. Though it was much more delicate than your previous collar, for some reason it felt much heavier than its bulky electric counterpart.
You winced as he gave the leash a small pull, grinning when a sharp, shocked cry fell past your lips. The needles hadn’t broken the skin yet, but the action did make you become keenly aware of just much damage they could cause with very minimal effort. The delicate nature of your current standing was looking bleaker with each passing second, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body as you eyed Strade fiddling carelessly with your leash. He seemed pleased by the attention his minor ministrations were awarding him, humored by the pain he could bring you with a mere flick of his wrist.
“I-it looks pretty on you, (Name),” Ren stuttered, a nervous smile complimenting the red of his cheeks, “Kind of dainty, like a fancy necklace. It really suits you.”
“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Strade jeered, fingering the chains that hung heavy around your neck, “I considered one for you too Ren, I didn’t want to make you jealous, you know? But then I figured hell, if I get this for (Name) Ren’ll probably enjoy this just as much as I do, so it’s already a two for one deal.”
Giving your cheek a few mild slaps, Strade turned his gaze towards Ren, “I trust that you’ll take good care of (Name) if I’m ever out and about and you want to have some special fun with her. A little pet time for my pet would do him some good, I think.”
The flippant insinuation made bile rise in the back of your throat.
“Now,” Strade pulled tighter on the leash, prompting you to rise to your feet and stand before the men. He lifted the chain above his head, laughing as you rose to tiptoes to avoid gouging your neck, “What do we say after we receive such a nice present, hmmm~?”
“Thank you,” you choked the words through your indignation, the spikes scratching uncomfortably against your skin as you did so. After several seconds of your balancing act, Strade lowered his hand, granting you the ability to stand normally. You released the breath you were holding, thankful that for at least this moment, you escaped agony.
“So ein gutes Mädchen für mich,” he cooed condescendingly, patting your head as if you were an actual dog, “you are really making me proud! But the fun isn’t over yet, in fact, this is just the first part of your special surprise,” his eyes widened at your obvious despair, “Aren’t you lucky?”
Without further ado he stomped past you, leash gripped tightly in his hand as he led your further into the house. While there was more leeway to the leash than anticipated, you still hustled to follow after him, fearful of the barbs encircling your throat. His whistled as he walked, his demeanor so exuberant that for a moment you felt he might start skipping. Ren trailed behind you, following closely in your footsteps.
It didn’t take long for you to catch on to where you were headed. As you came to stop before the thick, iron door that separated the rest of the house from the hell-hole that was the basement, tidal wave of fear washed over you. Strade took a deep breath, relishing all that was too come, immersed in the anticipation he was undoubtedly feeling. He turned to you and smiled, and you fought to keep a grip on your sanity. Feeling feint, your eyes flicked from him, back to the imposing door. Your heart was banging so violently in your chest from the sheer amount of terror that was coursing through your veins that you worried you may pass out.
How many people had met cruel, agonizing fates down those stairs? How many gallons of blood had dripped down the walls, pooled on the floor, snaked through the drains? How many anguished screams had reverberated off those sound proof walls?
You began to panic as Strade opened the door with ease, wasting no time making his way down. You hadn’t been to the basement since Strade had kidnapped you many months ago and you had hoped it would be a place that you never found yourself in again. It relieved you when Strade had forbid you and Ren from stepping foot down there, one of the few orders he gave that you were actually happy to oblige. Strade only took people to the basement for one reason and one reason only, and the fact that he was so pleasantly dragging you down there right now did not bode well for you in the slightest.
“W-wait,” you called out nervously, grabbing at the chain leash in an attempt to stop his descent. “W-why are we going down here?”
“Because it’s where the rest of your present is,” he answered as if it were obvious, a tinge of annoyance in his voice as he shot you a pointed look, “Now come on.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle touch on your shoulder stopped you.
“It’s ok, (Name),” Ren’s voice sounded softly in your ear. You could tell he was doing his best to sound reassuring. “We are allowed down there today, Strade said we could as a special treat for Christmas. It’s OK, I promise,” he gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before planting a fleeting kiss to your cheek, “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
His words did little to assuage the overwhelming terror you were feeling, sinking its claws deep in your battered soul, holding you in a death grip. You were past the point of a panic attack, now fearing a heart attack may be what does you in. At this point you wondered if that would be a mercy over whatever awaited you down there.
Forced breathes rattled from your lungs, erratic and strained as you stared into Strade’s expectant eyes, knowing his patience was rapidly diminishing. As much as you wanted to get whatever was coming over with, your legs lost the ability to move, your body denying every command your brain was giving to take the first step.
Hesitating a moment too long elicited a brutal tug from Strade, effectively ending your indecision as you were sent tumbling down after him. You whimpered as you felt the barbs of the collar tear into your flesh. Small rivulets of blood snaked from each fresh wound, dripping down your shoulders, back, and chest to strain the collar of your shirt. As a rare act of mercy, Strade caught you, his thick arm acting as a barrier between you and the concrete you were plummeting head first towards. For once you were thankful to be within the monster’s grasp, a sore chest and aching shoulder from where he grabbed you were far better than any injury you would have attained from the fall.
Consumed by a rush of adrenaline from the tumble, you neglected to realize your hands had latched to Strade’s arm like a lifeline. Embarrassment flooded you, quickly prompting you to release your hold on him. He laughed at the flush on your cheeks, your body jostling along with the rumble of his chest. His hand relinquished its grip on your shoulder, leaving behind angry red fingerprints, as if he had seared your flesh with a mere touch. His newly freed hand moved to tangle itself in your hair, eliciting a whimper as his nails dug into your scalp. Each place his body made contact with yours felt like it was burning.
Without warning, he roughly brought the side of your head to his lips, the stubble of his cheeks scratching your skin as he smashed his face against yours, taking in a deep breath. Excited puffs of breath tickled your ear as he spoke.
“Hurry up now,” his voice was gruff, but the words came out in a sing-song manner, “Don’t start misbehaving now, it would be a total bummer if you had to miss out on this, (Name)~”
With a wistful sigh he released his hold, leaving your momentarily reeling as you stumbled back, trying to reclaim your baring’s. Strade didn’t give much of a chance to do so, continuing on his way with another yank of the leash, forcing you to scramble after him once more.
Your body gave an involuntary shiver as your feet touched the chilly concrete floor. Strade flipped the lights, causing you to recoil at the sudden brightness. Your eyes grew watery as they struggled to adjust, but when they finally did you wished more than ever you could have just remained in the dark.
Though you hadn’t been in the basement since the week of your capture, everything was just as you remembered it. Horrible memories flooded your mind as you took in your surroundings, your brain assaulted by flashbacks of months prior. All the same home appliances and tools still lined the back wall, typically innocent devices most people used for repair jobs and building projects that no one would take a second glance at were this a normal basement. In Strades hands however, they became tools of destruction and torment, capable of the vilest atrocities.
You heard the loud whirring of the freezer off to the side before you saw it, the outdated device still valiantly chugging away as it preserved god knows what on its rickety inner shelves. The noise it spewed was so grating you wondered why he didn’t just replace the damn thing, or at least try and fix it. Near it stood the work table that housed his buzzsaw, looming ominously as it waited patiently for its next use (whether that be for flesh or for wood, who was to say?).
Witnessing these normally mundane items again made your chest hurt, a deep, indescribable level of horror spreading through every inch of your body as you struggled to reacclimate yourself. You were sure this place would haunt you as long as you lived, whether you stood in it or not didn’t matter.
Your throat went dry as you stared at the dark stains that littered the floor, remnants of various human’s bodily fluids. Blood, vomit, piss, and everything else that may leak from a human corpse was so continuous and abundant that there was no hope of the marks ever diminishing. Something told you Strade didn’t seem to mind, however. If anything, seeing those stains probably brought him some level of happiness, acting as pleasant little reminders of all the slaughter he had committed, a trophy for the lives he had stolen.
And there, smack dab in the middle of the basement stood the support beam he had tied you to, effectively barring your escape from this place. Witnessing it again was bad enough, but as your eyes locked onto it your heart started racing once more, your terror hitting unprecedented levels at the realization that there was a body there, tied up and trapped just as you once were.
At first you thought maybe you were hallucinating, seeing some phantom version of yourself your mind had conjured under the extreme stress you were facing. But as you continued to stare, noticing the slight rise and fall of their chest, hearing the small wheezes coming from their direction with each motion, it became apparent they were no figment of your imagination. Long hair fell from their slumped head, obscuring your vision of their face, but judging by what you could see of their body they looked to be around your age, similar to your build. You couldn’t help but wonder if you shared other features, had the same eye color, or maybe a similar facial structure.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Strade picked them because they reminded him of you.
Witnessing another human in this state made your stomach turn. It wasn’t so long ago that you were in that exact situation, and seeing them there helpless and oblivious to what lay before them filled you with the distressing urge to try and rescue them. If you could only run to them, untie their bindings and embrace them, let them know you were there for them and that they would be ok… Stupidly wisheful thinking, but maybe a miracle could still happen and that sweet lie would come true…
You shook your head slightly, dispelling the thought. No, it was all a tragic pipe dream, the fact they were here meant they were as good as dead and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop that.
“Hey!”
Strade barked, breaking you from the spell you were under. You jumped to attention, your wide eyes turning to him to give him your full attention. His scowl lessened at your recognition, “I know it’s all very exciting (Name), but pay attention when I am talking to you, alright?”
“Sorry,” your mouth barely formed the word, spitting it out so fast you wondered if it was even understandable. You were still in shock from being in such a terrible place, your brain lost in a fog as it struggled to comprehend why you were here, what Strade wanted of you, who that person on the floor was, and if you would make it through the day.
He sighed before stepping closer to you, irritation still lingering in his features. You fought every urge telling you to bolt, your body jolting as he gently patted your cheeks. After a few soft pats to garner your attention his strong hands continued to cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his palms. His skin was warm, the sweat from his hand moistening your skin as his thumb traced absentminded circles across scars he had created.
“Strip.”
The command didn’t register at first, making him lose patience. As you stood stock still his brows began to knit, foot tapping a bit as he waited for you to comply. After several seconds of inactivity on your end, he snapped his fingers in realization, his expression relaxing as something donned on him.
“Oh wait, it’s probably hard with the collar, right? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”
From an unseen back holster, he brandished an imposing hunting knife, one that you would remember anywhere. It was the same one he tormented you the day he met you, the feel of it on your skin seared into your memory for all eternity. It had done a brilliant job keeping you at bay when he first imprisoned you, serving him well as the main tool that broke you.
Seeing it again was all too overwhelming, all too horribly familiar. Your body quaked, tears starting to flood your eyes, making your vision waver. Your lips moved, your throat struggling to speak, fighting to come up with something, anything that may stop him from using it on you. But ultimately there was nothing you could force out, so you just stood there blankly, flapping your lips in a failed attempt at self-preservation.
“What’s wrong?” Strade pouted, pulling at your collar, forcing you closer to him. You could barely feel the pain through your terror. “If you have something to say, you should say it. Or are you just so thrilled by all this that you can’t form a coherent thought,” he tutted, “Ah, I know the feeling well (Name), but don’t suddenly go mute on me! I want to fully enjoy all of your reactions, so don’t hold back. Think of it as your gift to me.” You shivered as he placed the knife under your shirt, cutting away haphazardly at the thin fabric, uncaring that he was nicking your flesh in the process.
With his body so near, the only sound you could focus on was Strade’s labored, rasping breathes as they rattled from his throat. He blithely ripped what was left of your clothing from your body, leaving it discarded in torn heaps on the ground. Thankfully he spared your underwear, but as his fingers languidly played with the strap of your bra, you wondered if he wouldn’t also reconsider letting you keep what remained of your decency.
“Tonight will be so good, meine Haustier,” his voice sounded hoarse, thick with anticipation as he hovered over you, nuzzling his face into your hair, “… This reminds me a lot of the night I brought you home. Maybe I am just feeling nostalgic, having you down here with me again, but it’s hard not to get wrapped up in such fond memories.”
He chuckled, “I’m thankful I was able to reel myself in back then and keep you, no matter how much I wanted to do otherwise.” He pointed his knife to the unconscious body on the floor, “This one I brought here today won’t be nearly as fun as you were, so I don’t want you to feel jealous, alright? You’re where you are for a reason, just as they are where they are for a reason. Mein Liebchen, I’m so glad I can share this moment with you...”
He pressed in closer to you, an unmistakable bulge in his pants grazing the exposed flesh of your leg as he did so. You both shuddered at the brief contact, though his reaction was for reasons far different than your own.
“This intimacy is nice, don’t you think? Sharing your passions with those close to you is what meaningful relationships are allllll about.”
He pulled away from you slightly, pressing the blade of his knife under your chin. Wincing at the briefest of contact with the blade, you raised your head to avoid slicing of your chin, stopping once you were eye to eye with Strade. Your noses nearly touched as he took in the features of your face, smiling at the sheer horror reflected in your eyes.
“And I want to remind you just how passionate I can be~”
He spun you around, giving you an abrupt shove. Unable to keep your balance you fell forward, your knees colliding with the stony floor. A hiss of pain slipped past your lips at the contact as Strade kneeled down next to you, tangling his fingers once more in your hair. With a sharp yank, he pulled your head up, directing your attention to the far corner of the room.
With his guidance, your gaze landed on something new. A cage you couldn’t recall ever seeing filled your took up a sizable chunk of the side wall, making you wonder how you missed see it to begin with. How he got such an unwieldy contraption down the stairs previously without your notice was also lost on you. The thing looked far too heavy for one person to easily transport, even if it came in pieces.
It looked incredibly sturdy, each side comprised of thick, imposing iron bars. The cage was moderately sized- large enough for people to sit in, but not so large that it would be a comfortable arrangement. At a glance, it seemed to be made for a dog, but the girth of the bars and thick padlock on the door were completely unnecessary features for a canine, even the largest and most aggressive dog breeds wouldn’t need something so robust to keep them contained. Strade must have had it special made, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was made for. You clenched your fists, fighting the queasiness that this new facet of the day brought to the table. You knew the cage shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, but you couldn’t help but be a bit addled by it. You briefly wondered if there was a limit to how much he would spend to fuel his sick intentions.
The cage sat off to the side, out of the way of the main walkway and slightly hidden behind the stairs so that it wasn’t immediately noticeable, but it was still close enough to the rest of the rooms fixtures that anyone trapped inside would have a clear view or what was happening around them. Which you figured was the point. What better seat for an unwilling audience?
“I originally bought this for Ren, but he was much easier to house train then you were.” Strade laughed, removing his hand from your hair to clap you on the shoulder. He turned his gaze to Ren who stood by the cage expectantly, waiting to fulfill his role in the nights unfolding misery. “Why don’t you show her inside, Ren? Get yourselves all comfy for the show.”
With a quick nod, Ren scampered in before you, giving you just enough room to squeeze in beside him. Nestling in, he turned to you with a strange mix of fear and anticipation in his eyes, patting the area next to you with a small smile on his lips.
“Come in, (Name),” he looked up at you through his lashes, bashful despite the situation he willingly crawled into, “There’s plenty of room.”
Strade gave you no opportunity to refute his invitation, dragging you along the floor by the collar until you arrived at the cages entrance. You gagged as the spikes dug into your flesh, your fingers attempting to find purchase and pull them out. But your grip kept slipping, the blood that coated each metallic link making it impossible to pry away.
At the entrance, Strade quickly unlatched your adjoining leash, pushing the side of his foot against your ass to shove you into the cage, treating you much the same way you would a misbehaving dog. He slammed the door behind you the moment your limbs were barely through the door, preventing you from backtracking. He hastily secured the huge padlock after he did so, effectively trapping you and Ren inside.
“I know you’ll watch, but I can’t trust her,” Strade spoke to Ren, kneeling down so that he was eye level with the two of you, “Latch her collar to the top bar, I want her focused.”
Ren was quick to follow orders, contorting himself around you so he could bind you to the cage. Part of you hoped he would show mercy, sneakily attaching the collar to a lower bar on the cage to give you more breathing room. As you felt the spikes dig farther into your skin that dream dashed from your mind. You choked back a sob as you heard the clasp click into place behind you, Ren planting a fleeting kiss to the top of your head as he did so, his way of begging forgiveness for the pain he was helping inflict
Sitting with your back completely straight, you kept your legs tucked under you, the full weight of your body supported by your knees. The slightest bit of slouching, leaning, or turning your head would plunge the spikes into your already torn up neck, amplifying your suffering. Locked into place, you were left with no choice but to sit at attention.
Maybe you could have unclasped the collar yourself for a bit of reprieve, you were sure after some blind fumbling you could figure out how to free yourself. But stuck behind a formidable lock with Strade on the other side, what would be the point? There was no place for you to run to, and if you disobeyed Strade at this point you were a sitting duck. A heavy sense of resignation settled in your soul. You no longer fought the tears that came to your eyes, letting them freely dribble down your checks to land in soft drops on your lap.
With no hope of escape, that left you with one option to get through this-endure.
“Überraschung,” Strade exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as he stared down at you with wild, manic eyes. “What a sight this is! I must say (Name), even though your overall your obedience has improved, you still have quite the rebellious streak, don’t you?” He leaned down to get a better view of you, breathing deeply as his face began turning red from excitement, “Not that I don’t like when you get feisty, training and domesticating wild animals is something I take great pleasure in after all. But I have to say, seeing you like this?” He released an elongated, low whistle. “Schön. Keeping you has been worth it for moments like this. You really are a treat, behavioral issues and all.”
He exhaled as he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never once leaving yours. “This is good, natural even. You belong here, (Name). Chained up like that… You’re right where you are supposed to be.”
His words were shaky, his composure slipping as his tongue trailed his bottom lip. The flush of his cheeks was now also creeping down his neck, ardent lust seeping from his expression. You shivered. Were it not for these bars separating you, you loathed to think what atrocities he would commit against you in this amped up state.
You bit back the retort that threatened to spill from your quivering jaw, biting so hard on your bottom lip you tasted blood. You hated him, loathed him with your entirety, but you also understood that one misspoken word was all it would take for you to be swapped with whatever unfortunate soul was tied to that pole. Despite it all, you still wanted to live. Clinging to the hope that someday you would get the chance to leave this place behind and return to the life that was stolen from you.
Making your freedom a reality was your daily affirmation you repeated to yourself, the one thing that truly kept you going. You made a promise to yourself that Strade would someday turn into nothing more than a horrible nightmare, a dirty smear in your past, and you very much intended to keep that promise. You would someday live out the rest of your life happy and safe, surrounded by friends and family, people you loved and who would love you in turn. Maybe you would even get married, have a kid or two.
Part of you knew thinking that way was foolish, and it usually caused you more despair than bringing you any true peace. But even if it was a silly dream, it was all you had. Strade has already stolen everything else, so you clung to your dream as your only salvation, relying on it as a means of survival.
You had to make it through this, you had to get away and rebuild yourself from the shattered pieces Strade had broken you into. Not just for yourself, but for everyone he had ever murdered and brutalized. It was the only way you could beat him. It was the only way you could win.
“Well, no point in making any of us wait any longer,” Strade announced as he turned on his heel, making his way over to the slumped form in the center of the room. Your heart went out to them as he directed his full attention their way, staring down at them with a crazed, bloodthirsty smile. “This is pretty new for me too, ya know? Usually this is ‘me’ time, moments I can work and enjoy myself with the new friends I bring in in peace. But having a live audience? That’s sure gonna add some thrill to this.”
He turned his attention back towards you and Ren, his face glowing in excitement. “And I figured what the hell! It’s Christmas, right? Why be greedy when I can share in the celebration! Ren already loves watching my little home movies, so I thought, ‘why not do a special live performance for my two favorite individuals?’”
Your body lurched in horror as Strade abruptly kicked his hostage square in the stomach, the force of it waking them with an agonized groan. You gasped as they coughed in pain, spit and blood sputtering from their mouth as slowly they came to. You watched on in morbid silence, a frown spreading across your lips when as you noticed the dawning horror that came over them. They were no longer in an ignorant fog of sleep, fully aware now that something truly dreadful was about to happen to them.
Terrified recognition filled their eyes when they landed on Strade. Instantly they started to cry, whimper and plead, leaving you to wonder just how badly things went down between the two of them before you all ended up down here.
Trembles wracked your body, each quiver faintly clanging the metal of your collar against the cage. How you yearned to deafen your ears, gouge out your eyes, or will yourself away from what was unfolding before you. The mere thought of witnessing the oncoming torture, reliving your own capture through this doomed sod… it was all too much. If given the opportunity, you would have done anything to flee and hide.
But there was no running from this. You couldn’t turn away. You couldn’t do anything at all.
“Hey buddy, calm down!” Strade spoke in a light hearted manner, invading the captive’s personal space as he crouched down in front of them. “Don’t you know it’s Christmas? Since you were looking so sad all alone at that bar last night I decided to play the role of Santa and give you a little gift! I took you in out of the goodness of my heart, because no one deserves to be alone on the holiday, right? And look,” He roughly grabbed their chin, forcing their tear stained face towards your cage, “I even brought friends to assure you wouldn’t be lonely! Pretty thoughtful of me, huh?”
You averted your stare as soon as they made eye contact, unable to stand the sheer hopelessness reflected in their forlorn gaze. Their whimpering and pleading continued, unfettered by the dialogue Strade was droning on. The desperation in their voice as they tried to reason with the most unreasonable man on the planet was making your skin crawl, irritation setting your face into a scowl. Couldn’t they see how amped up Strade was? Were they really so deluded to think their incessant begging would do them any favors? Did they not realize their cries were just exciting him more?
Eventually, you squeezed your eyes closed, wanting a break from it all even for a few seconds. Their naivety was driving you insane- a cruel reminder of the person you once were.
Suddenly, an ear splitting scream pieced the air, causing your eyes to fly open. The blood in your veins turned to ice as you saw Strade’s signature knife protruding from the captive’s leg, his hand still wrapped firmly around the handle, wriggling it further into their meat. The blade was buried deep, deep enough to cause true damage, and the blood that gushed from the new wound quickly gathered in a morbid puddle beneath their legs. If left unattended, you were sure they may bleed out, dying in slow agony.
“Oops, maybe I went a bit too deep there,” Strade nonchalantly spoke, pulling the knife carelessly from their leg. They released another sharp cry at the blades exit, squirming in pain and misery as blood sputtered from the gash. Strade continued to speak, unfettered by the gore that splashed against his leg, “But you weren’t listening very well when I was trying to talk earlier, so hopefully that’ll help you focus. I’ll try and be more mindful though, don’t wanna do too much too soon. You’re the star of the show today buddy, can’t have you dipping out on us before we even get started.”
Strade cut a piece of fabric from their victim’s shirt, tying it sloppily around the gaping wound he inflicted. It wasn’t placed as a means to help them so much as a way to help staunch the bleeding to keep them lucid for as long as possible. If there was one thing Strade hated, it was his fun being prematurely cut short.
“Well,” Strade slapped his knees, lifting himself up to his full height, “Usually I like to get to know you a little better before we get to this point, but what with my special guests and all, we don’t have as much time as I would have liked to become acquainted.”
Your eyes trailed Strade as he walked over to a tripod sitting off to the side. Your eyes widened as he reached for it, setting it up with skilled expertise as he had done so many times before. His captive stared blankly at the camera, clearly confused as to what awaited them. You couldn’t decide if their ignorance was a tragedy or a godsend. If they knew this was their final moment of relative peace before their violent end… Would they try an appreciate it, or would that just bring them more dismay?
After the main camera was set up to his liking, he made his way towards you and Ren. You stiffened at he approached, a new spike of anxiety rising within you as he fiddled with something in his pocket. It was your turn for confusion now, staring in perplexion as he pulled out another small camera, setting it up so that it faced your cage. After some finagling to get it just right, the small red light on it turned green.
“There we go,” Strade smiled, tying his signature bandana around his mouth after he completed his setup, his wide eyes gleaming with cruel intent, “Figured the viewers at home deserved a little special something, too. Smile for the camera you two!”
Shame flushed your exposed body as you did all you could to avoid looking into the camera’s nebulous, black lens. You curled yourself up as much as physically possible, revolted by the realization that other sickos were tuning in, getting off to an impending murder and your humiliation. How many people were on the other side of that small orb, desperately waiting for Strade to begin so they could scratch their fucked up itch? How many pairs of eyes were roving over your barely clothed, bloody body right now, pleased for such an enticing appetizer before they dug into the main course? You didn’t know what disgusted you more, Strade himself or the fact that he had enough ‘fans’ out there that were of a similar mindset, who avidly watched and supported him enough that he could live comfortably off live-streaming his slaughters.
After some brief adjustments (apparently your camera wasn’t focused enough, the ‘fans’ were complaining about not having a clear shot of ‘the bitch’s stupid, sniveling face’), Strade eventually made his way back over to the main camera, flicking it on and checking the feed on a nearby laptop to make sure everything was looking as it should. Once he was satisfied, he hopped in front of the camera, the jovial smile on his face noticeable even behind his mask.
“Frohe Weihnachten an alle! Oh wait,” he fished around in a drawer beneath his laptop, eventually yielding a slightly wrinkled Santa’s hat that he plopped gleefully upon his head. “That’s better! How is everyone doing this fine, festive holiday?”
Strade’s eyes scanned over the chat, laughing here and there as he read peoples responses. “I see you all noticed the new edition to the party. Ren, (Name), why don’t you give the nice people watching at home a smile?”
Refusing to acknowledge his deluded request, you kept your eyes to the floor, focusing on anything else but the situation you were in. Your legs ached from your balancing act, the impression of the cold cage bars long since deeply engraved in your skin. You grimaced when you tried to reposition them, the bastard could have at least thrown a towel in here for you.
Strade responded to a few more ‘questions’ before releasing a low whistle. “Hey now,” he chided, his voice holding a warning edge to it “I’m happy to share my cute pets with you, but some things only I get to see, yeah? Get your minds out of the gutter, the requests for the day aren’t for them, they’re for our latest catch.”
Strade scratched the back of his head, looking towards you with an amused twinkle in his eye. “I think you two may be a bigger hit then our new friend! A little rude to our guest, but I can’t say I blame the masses.” He gave an exaggerated shrug, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “But enough talk. Let’s get this party started, shall we?”
He made his way over to his tool wall, his finger trailing the varying allotment of devices he owned. He stopped briefly, looking back towards the camera with lidded eyes. “So what are you guys feeling? Should we bust out our old friend the drill, or maybe something a bit more colorful, like the new handsaw I purchased the other day?”
The captive began to struggle with renewed intensity against their binds, thrashing about in a final attempt of escape. Their cries for help turned into wailing screeches, screaming and cursing as loud as they could muster in the hope that someone would magically hear them and come to their rescue. You hissed under your breath angrily, wishing they had never been caught, wishing they could spend Christmas with their family, wishing they would just shut up, wishing this would all end.
“Ohhh, we got a lively one~” Strade purred, grabbing a tomahawk off a nearby hook as he eyed chat, “and I agree with the majority here, it’s best to start off slow. Let’s begin with some little stuff and work up to the main event, really taking our time to enjoy this wonderful moment together.” He eyed the tool in his hand, picking at a remainder of a price tag that stuck stubbornly to the handle. “You may not believe me, but I only purchased this little guy to help with some pesky overgrowth in my yard, not to use on my company. Guess it can’t hurt to test out its sharpness and strength beforehand though, can it?”
Your heart palpitated as Strade stalked his way over to his cornered victim, mutely praying that some act of god would occur that would keep them from being decimated. He towered over them, thoughtfully musing on where he wanted to begin, what part of their body he wanted to mutilate first. He absent mindedly tossed the tomahawk from one hand to the next as he considered his plan of attack, sizing up his prey as if they were nothing more than a slab of meat. You struggled briefly against your binding in last ditch effort to shield yourself you from the ‘show’. But like a cruel child jabbing their fingers into you when you weren’t paying them enough attention to them, the spikes gave you a torturous reminder of the position you had been assigned to play in this performance.
Oddly enough, the stab of the protrusions didn’t hurt nearly as much as they did before. Maybe your body was adapting to the cruelties Strade subjugated it to, or maybe you were finally becoming desensitized to everything you had been forced to experience. Maybe someday it would get to the point where you could be completely unfeeling, like a robot just going through the motions as Strade lived out his wicked life, you forcefully in tow. It was almost a comforting thought, whatever adjustments your body and soul had to make to assure your continued survival, so be it.
However, if the pit forming in your stomach and sweat drenching your brow as you watched Strade inch closure and closure to his victim was any indicator, you were sure something inside of you would always hold on to amity, reminding you just how painfully human you were, heart-breaking empathy and all.
‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,’ you chanted in your head, fresh tears carving slick trails down your cheeks when Strade kick their leg, digging the heel of their boot harshly into their stab wound. Bright red bloomed around the fabric covering the wound, their screams growing gravelly the longer they strained their vocal cords. You did your best to hold back the worst of your sobs, rogue sniffles and hiccups escaping despite your best efforts. If there was an afterlife, you hoped that theirs was full of nothing but warmth, peace, and all the things they love. It was the least they deserved for this.
You were vaguely aware of Ren repositioning himself next to you, his head nestling against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, shielding you slightly in an almost protective manner. Pressed so close, you could feel that he was shivering, his heart beating a mile a minute as it thrummed against your skin. Whether it was from fear, excitement, or both, you were unable to say.
Strade turned around, giving you one last mirthful glance as he readied his tomahawk over the toes of his captive’s right foot. Though they squirmed intensely, he held a death grip on the limb, keeping them from breaking free. “Make sure to pay close attention now,” desire radiated from his demeanor, voice husky as narrowed eyes briefly roved your restrained form “and don’t feel too neglected over there, I’ll make sure to save some of the fun juuust for you once I finish with our pal over here.”
His eyes darted to the camera, shooting it a look of mock sympathy “For my eyes only of course, you all understand right? Thank you for being here friends, and Frohe Weihnachten für mich!~”
He slammed the blade down. A blood curdling scream erupted from the center of the room as their toes disconnected from the rest of their foot, signaling the beginning of their end.
And you sat like a statue, cold and rigid as your unwilling eyes bore witness to each act of savagery.
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Better Than Sleeping
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Summary:
You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.
(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.
Word Count: 5,300
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.
List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.
A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!
...
You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy.
But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes.
You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again.
Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night.
After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up.
You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke.
“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings.
But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least.
You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful.
But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock.
“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt.
You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.)
Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him.
Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting.
“So - can I come in?” Jason asked.
He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly.
You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question.
Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again.
“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.”
You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup.
You weren’t so lucky.
“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest.
“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained.
As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror.
He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to.
“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck.
His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny.
“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.”
The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper.
It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance.
“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice.
“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea.
He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach.
“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.”
Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up.
“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear.
“I need sleep.” You grunted in return.
You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily.
Naturally, Jason followed you.
He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you.
Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health.
As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you.
You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again.
“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly.
You sighed with deep annoyance.
“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.”
His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist.
Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was.
The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night.
“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow.
He simply chuckled.
You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep.
You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning.
“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again.
Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest.
Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long.
He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in.
But he was playing to win.
He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice.
“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.”
“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again.
He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.
You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you.
He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin.
With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet.
Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more.
And he was going to make you beg for it.
When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling.
“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off.
“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?”
You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point.
“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.”
Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied.
Unfortunately, Jason knew that too.
“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue.
He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him.
But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you.
You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky.
You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep.
You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw.
(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you).
But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax.
Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move.
“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?”
That. Little. Shit.
You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face.
Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed.
“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly.
“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?”
“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice.
Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won.
“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.”
“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him.
You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought.
Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside.
It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp.
“Jason!”
Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop.
It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away.
“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.
You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot.
But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still.
After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more.
You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.
“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock.
“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder.
“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny.
You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you.
“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”
You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more.
There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need.
Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly.
“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.”
“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him.
He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been.
“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.”
That was when you broke.
At least you hadn’t given in too easily.
“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.”
“What else?” Jason asked expectantly.
You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do.
“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well.
And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply.
You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again.
“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.”
You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body.
Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.
“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear.
You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you.
But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed.
“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite.
“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury.
You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you.
He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently.
“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him.
“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.”
He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt.
You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up.
He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal.
“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.”
“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.”
“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again.
Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you.
When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment.
“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.”
He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed.
It ended up being a good night for both of you.
...
If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.
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Star Wars Writing Resources
Note: None of the resources below are mine. I just assembled them in one place for your and my convenience. Feel free to use and reblog. If you know of any other useful site missing from the list, let me know and I'll gladly add it.
NOTE (05/17/23): There's a new, much more comprehensive version HERE.
Places
Interactive Galaxy Map by Henry Bernberg
Map of the Galaxy
List of planets and moons [Wikipedia /needs expanding]
Planet Name Generator 1 [SciFi Ideas]
Planetary System Generator [Donjon]
Character Development
Star Wars Name Generator 1 [Donjon]
Star Wars OC flow chart by @thefoodwiththedood
Star Wars Name Generator 2 [FantasyNames]
Star Wars Name Generator 3 [FantasyNames]
The character creator
Droid Name Generator
Star Wars Randomizer by @aureutr
Clone Trooper face/helmet template pack by @fox-trot
Clone Picrew by @batdad
Character Picrew [Twi-leks, Zabraks, Torgutas and Nautolans] @/megaramikaeli
Star Wars Character Templates by SmacksArt [the ULTIMATE battery of template for any human/humanoid original character in any era. From troopers to droids, from Jedi to Sith, from KOTOR to the sequel Trilogy. 100% RECOMMENDED]
Miscellaneous
Standard Calendar and Holidays [including month names!]
Galactic Standard Calendar [wookiepedia // including week day names]
Date converter according to SWTOR [Google sheet]
Hyperspace Travel Times (to calculate how much time would take to go from point A to point B within the GFFA)
Materials (fabrics, leathers, silks, plastics, construction, metal composites, etc.)
List of TCW Opening Quotes
Ship Generator 3D
Star Wars: The Clone Wars Republic Military Hierarchy Flowcharts by @cacodaemonia
Languages; Phrases and Slang; Vocabulary
Coruscant Translator (from/to Basic from/to Old Corellian, Proto-Basic, and Smuggler's Cant; Catharese and High Cathar; Cheunh and Minnisiat; Echani and Thyrsian; Mirialan; Flora Colossi, Ortolan, and -everyone's favorite- Mando'a)
In-Universe phrases and slang [Google sheet]
List of phrases and slang [wookiepedia]
List of equivalents to real-world objects [wookiepidia]
Star Wars Menu Generator
Helpful blogs
The amazing @fox-trot, who not only makes astonishing art and write an amazing fic, she also responds to medical questions and gives all kinds of references for writing medic characters.
@writebetterstarwars, which seems to be inactive, but there are a bunch of references there.
@howtofightwrite The place to find out how to write a good fight scene.
@scriptmedic no longer active, but it has a great deal of useful information.
@scripttorture for your whump needs. Major trigger warning for all its content.
Writing in General (For those who don't want to die like Stormtroopers)
SlickWrite: Completely free; online. Checks grammar, punctuation, flow, and writing style according to different settings (including fiction writing).
ProWritingAid: [RECOMMENDED] One of the most thorough online proofreader I've ever used. Although when using a free account gives extremely thorough feedback, it gives +20 different in-depth reports for only the first 500 words for free. However, you can earn a premium account license (for a year or for life) if you get 10 or 20 new users signing up for free; (if you wouldn't mind doing so using the link above and help me earn mine, please). The settings allow you to check your writing according to your needs, from general to formal to creative. It has a bonus that you can check depending on the genre you're writing. For example, in creative, you can choose romance or sci-fiction (there are 14 sub-genre in total). And just like google docs, you can share a document, and people can view, comment or edit.
LanguageTool: [RECOMMENDED] Another excellent proofreader. It also has a word limit in free accounts, but if you use the add-on for Google Docs, it counts each page as a new document, so hitting the limit is nearly impossible. It helps you to rewrite a sentence, even if it doesn't raise any flags; it's very useful for when your sentence is grammatically correct, but it doesn't feel quite right.
Grammarly, Hemingway Editor: No so great, but they do the basic job.
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Between Worlds Part III
A/n: Wasn't planning on writing more, but your support changed my mind! The series now has a title. Thanks to all who liked and reblogged the first two fics. You're amazing! Hope you all enjoy the third part :)) I did change the POV to make it flow nicer, had a coworker edit the fic for me too, let me know any thoughts!
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!
Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.
Trigger Warnings: Maybe slightly scary Azriel but none that I can think of besides slight angst.
Word Count: 1.6k
It was supposed to be a simple one-night stand with a handsome stranger, a way to steer clear of the story’s main characters. But, after a few too many drinks—Sake Bombs to be exact—I woke up in the bed of the Night Court’s spymaster, one of Prythian’s most dangerous men. One word stood out to me, echoing in my mind. The shock was clear on my face.
“‘Mate’?” you stammered. A mate bond between us? That was impossible. You weren’t even supposed to be in this world. Was the tightening in your chest from the bond or just your own anxiety?
Azriel chuckled, looking down at you. You could tell that he saw through your pathetic attempt at hiding your feelings. I mean, you could feel the invisible thread pulling you together. You could feel every emotion he was expressing through the bond. Azriel was the spymaster; he was trained to read every emotion and find any information he could get.
“You felt it, didn’t you? The love and affection that I am sending you.” His voice was laced with amusement as he watched you squirm a bit. “You’re not getting out of it that easily you know. Mate bonds are sacred after all.” His expression turned serious as he said this, looking down at you.
“This is going to sound selfish,” he said softly, not meeting your gaze as he looked around the room. “Please, give it a chance. I have been waiting so long to find my mate and here you are.” A soft, breathy laugh escaped his lips. “Who knew I’d meet my mate drunk at a pleasure hall? Never in my five hundred years would I have expected that. The Mother must work in mysterious ways.” He finally met your gaze, his gaze held warmth but seemed to be evaluating your every move.
That’s right, he is around five hundred years old and just had a mate bond snap…which means that he probably wants to have a ceremony as soon as possible. I could feel the anxiety creeping up. I know he can sense and feel every emotion. What would he do, if he found out that I am not even from this world? That I am not his true mate?
You somehow manage to blurt out without stammering, “I…want to form a bargain with you.”
“A bargain?” His expression darkened with curiosity.
You shifted nervously in the bed, a knot had built in your chest, and you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You needed him to say yes, you needed time to figure out your situation, even if you had to throw a bargain that he would more than likely say no to. A bargain that would make him feel rejected.
His gaze held yours for a moment, the only movement being his eyes as they scanned your every expression. “What would you like to bargain with me about, y/n?”
“First, I want to make sure the ceremony date isn’t for another six months, preferably longer. Second, you cannot use your shadows to spy on me. They cannot access my room or any of my items. Lastly, I need three months before I meet your family or before you can meet mine.” You could feel the anxiety brewing in your stomach. His expression showed a tiny amount of sadness and curiosity. You felt as if he knew you were hiding something but was choosing to ignore it, for now. “Is there anything you would like to add?”
Azriel stared at you incredulously. You had wanted the ceremony to be delayed, and not only did you not want him to access your personal life, but you wanted three months to go by before he saw your family, or you saw his. A few minutes of silence passed as Azriel pondered his next response. His face was expressionless, showing none of his thoughts.
“Three months? Why three months?” The soft amusement was back in his voice as he shifted forward, placing his scarred fingers under your chin so you’d meet his gaze. A gaze that could only belong to someone who was feared among every court in Prythian. A dangerous gaze that spoke volumes. The room was silent, as you couldn’t say another word. Instead, he spoke in a low, soft tone that seemed to taunt a reaction out of you.
“You know I could find any information that I could ever want, right?” Words that were laced with truth, a subtle warning in his tone.
You felt like your heart was going to burst from the anxiety inside of you, a part of you hoping it would so you could avoid this conversation. “I know you could find any information about me that you could want, I just…I don’t want to move too fast. I mean we just met, you know?”
He chuckled softly as he dragged his scarred thumb across your cheek. In a whisper that seemed laced with something dark. "We did just meet, but I do know one thing about you already." Azriel gave you a warm smile and stared at you as he whispered the words "You're scared and I know you’re hiding something, sweetness."
You took in a deep breath, trying to clear your thoughts. This male was going to be the death of you.
You stammered your sentence for a moment. “I’m not scared, it’s just…I can’t exactly tell you right now. I need to figure out some things first. But, that’s not important right now, do you accept the bargain?”
Azriel frowned as he looked at your face, somehow trying to find information through your expression. After another moment, he finally said, "Fine, you have your bargain. But only if you promise me one thing."
He accepted? That was different than what you were expecting. “What’s your condition?”
Before you knew it, you truly saw the spymaster of the Night Court in action as he moved closer to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, pulling his hand away from your face, and moved them to either side of you. Leaning down close enough to whisper in your ear. "You'll tell me whatever truth you're keeping from me after three months, no games, no bullshit. But only after the three months have passed." He seemed to wait until you could gather your senses to respond. His gaze was harsh but still held some warmth.
“We have a deal,” the words stumbled out, your voice barely above a whisper.
“We have a deal,” Azriel repeated with his voice sending a shiver down your spine with its coldness. He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as if wrestling an inner turmoil. Then without warning, a bargain marking materialized on both of your wrists, taking the form of a small star.
Another long period of silence. Nothing in the room moved but his shadows that moved between you like silk. Some of the shadows felt like kisses on your wrist as they slithered over the bargain.
“I suppose I should take you home,” he whispered, his voice coming out rough. As if he wanted to say something more. You gave him a slow nod, and he moved away, climbing off the bed to hand you a simple dress. “I had my shadows bring something, you…ruined yours last night. I’ll save you the embarrassment,” he teased lightly before stepping out of the room to allow you some privacy.
Oh…what did you do in front of this beautiful creature? You are never drinking again if it's what you think it is.
You slipped on the dress; it fit nicely. How he knew your size or his shadows knew was beyond you. You chose to ignore those thoughts as you tied your hair, looking in the mirror. One thing you knew for sure, you needed a bath.
After you stepped out of the room, your eyes fell upon Azriel, already clad in his Illyrian leathers, the blue cobalt siphons shimmering in the morning light that filtered through the window. He looked every bit the formidable warrior, yet there was a softness in his eyes as he reached out his scarred hand to yours.
In an instant, we were no longer in the confines of the townhouse, but standing at the gates of your parents’ estate. Azriel’s expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t expected.
“Y/n, there is one more thing before we go back in there,” he said, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken words.
As he glanced towards the estate, a sense of unease settled over me, knowing what was coming next. "Your secret, whatever it is, will always be safe with me,” Azriel said, his gaze unwaveringly sincere as he met your eyes. “Whenever you are ready to tell me.”
You met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension, emotions swirling within you like a storm. "It's not that bad of a secret," you began, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "Don't worry, in three months you can introduce me to your family. In six months we can set a date for a ceremony."
Azriel leaned forward, his smile gentle as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His expression was a blend of disappointment and sadness flickering in his eyes. It seemed as though he had something more to say, or perhaps do. After a moment of tense silence, he nodded as if coming to a decision. "See you in three months, my mate," he said softly, before turning away and disappearing with a graceful winnow. Not even leaving a trace of shadows behind. All that was left was his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar.
Tag list: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle
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The Boy Is Mine (Claudia's Edition)
this is my entry for @carolmunson 's writing exercise where we all use the same prompts to write a date night fic with Eddie in the trailer.
Very hastily written over last night and this morning, so apologies for any mistakes!
Word Count:1,204
Eddie Munson Masterlist // Masterlist
Wayne had slid Eddie an all-too knowing wink as he made his way out of the trailer door. He had told Eddie that he was taking a small vacation, a fishing trip out of state with some of his old work buddies. Bringing Eddie into a quick hug before leaving Wayne nods towards his nephew.
“You’re the man of the house for the next few days, son, try not to burn down the place whilst i’m gone.”
Eddie nods, his wild curls bouncing as he does.
“Understood.” Eddie smiles. “Now, go! You have fun with your fishing buddies, I can take care of things from here, trust me.”
“Alright alright! I’m going!” Wayne grumbles as he loads his fishing gear into the back of the car before driving away.
“Alright and for zee beautiful lady, my famous spaghetti and meatballs.” Eddie says in his best fancy french accent as he rounds the small dining table, placing a generous plating of pasta in front of you.
Your back sinks against the soft throw pillow plumped against the harsh back of the wooden dining chair.
Eddie had insisted on cooking for you for a special date night, calling you up to come over because he said he had a special surprise planned for you, and to wear something fancy.
So you pulled on your nicest dress from your wardrobe, the dainty blue floral one that you knew Eddie liked seeing you in, if his big brown eyes were any give away, the way they roamed over the expanse of exposed skin every time you wore it.
Excitedly knocking your knuckles against the rickety trailer door you heard the enthusiastic shout from your boyfriend from inside.
“I’ll be there in a minute!” comes his voice, sounding as if he was working very hard behind closed doors.
Suddenly the door swings open and there stands your boyfriend, his messy hair tied back into a loose bun at the nape of his neck, a few stray curls falling down to frame his face. His slender frame is covered in a tight black shirt and his usual dark ripped jeans, but it’s not that that catches your attention, no, it’s the white ‘kiss the cook’ apron decorated with various splotchy stains that has you cocking your head in interest. A small spiral notebook hangs off his apron where it's tied around his waist, looking every part waiter-and-chef all rolled into one.
“Come in, Welcome to Chez Munson” he smiles broadly, his white teeth pulling against the curve of his bottom lip.
“Welcome madame, let me show you to your seat.” he says as he guides you into the small dining area he’s set up in the kitchen, complete with a single rose dropped into an empty coke bottle.
“Eddie..”
“I know, I know, it's just we never really get time to ourselves anymore, we've both been so busy lately, and I just wanted to treat my favourite girl.”
“Eddie, it's perfect!” You beam, leaning up to kiss his cheek, feeling his flushed cheeks smile against your lips.
Just as he's about to sit down in the seat opposite you, he bounces back to his feet.
“I almost forgot!” He babbles as he reaches into the fridge to retrieve a bottle of wine. “Harrington helped me pick it out, but I think he just chose this because there was a picture of an lion on the label” he chuckles.
Then for a brief moment you hear him clinking around in the kitchen cabinets in search of some wine glasses.
“Okay..” he huffs “so, like, I ran out of nice cups, is this okay?” He asks as he places down two mugs on the table. His favourite Garfield mug for him, and a red race-car mug for you, from that time when Wayne took Eddie to the Indy 500 a few years back.
He cracks open the bottle and pours a few drops in each mug, before sitting down opposite you.
“Cheers!” He grins, lifting his mug up.
You clink your mug against his and return his cheer.
You watch as he reaches for the small tub of grated parmesan on the table before sprinkling it on top of his pasta.
“And you like that, huh?” you wrinkle your nose in disgust at his choice of topping.
“What can I say, Sweetheart, I've got a refined palette.” He laughs before twirling up a forkful of noodles.
You dig into your dinner and it's surprisingly delicious. Truly a testament to how hard he'd worked to put together the whole meal for you.
“Y’know, this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” you tell him earnestly.
“Well I just wanted to make you smile, know you’ve been busy working those late night shifts at the diner, and I’m not always the best boyfriend-”
“Aw, no, Honey. Don’t be like that. That’s not true at all.” you stop him before he can discredit himself, and talk himself down, as he often found himself doing.
He looks up at you from underneath his dark eyelashes.
“Eddie, you are the best boyfriend, the only boyfriend, I’ve ever had.” It’s true, you had met Eddie when you were a new student who had just moved into Hawkins and were trying to navigate your way through a new school half-way through the academic year. He was the one who befriended you and that friendship had gone from strength to strength until neither of you could ignore the feelings you both felt for one another anymore.
“But the fact that you have been my only boyfriend, doesn’t mean that you haven’t been the absolute best boyfriend in my eyes. You make me laugh, you’re sweet and kind, you make me feel safe, and most importantly you make me feel so loved.”
He reaches his hand across the table, taking your hand in his and kissing his lips softly against the back of your hand.
“I think the same of you too, Sweetheart. You’re it for me. You’re my forever girl. Want you in my life always, I mean it.”
“And now for dessert.” he says as he places down a slice of vanilla sponge cake, complete with gooey vanilla frosting and a cherry on top. “Although I can’t claim this one as my own, compliments go to the bakers at Walmart for this one.”
As you both enjoy your desserts in comfortable silence, you can’t help but let your foot trail up his leg underneath the table, teasingly playing with him whilst you smile innocently at him from across the table.
“If you don’t stop that, we’re going to have a problem here, Sweetheart.” his voice drops to a husky low rumble, his pink lips curving into a smile.
“Maybe, I want something else for dessert too..” you tease him.
“Let me clear away these plates, you go ahead and wait in the bedroom. I’ve been dying to rip that dress off you since you stepped through the door.” he smirks, his dark eyes raking over you.
Excitedly you jump up from your seat, and make your way over to him, kissing him on his cheek before whispering in his ear.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Teddy.”
@mrsjellymunson @penguinsandpotterheads @ali-r3n @seatnights @xxbimbobunnyxx @impmunson @paybacksawitch @heydreamchild
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Atonement
Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader
Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.
CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie
WC: 5.3k
Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕
Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.
A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.
Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕
Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork
It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.
Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.
Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.
“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.
He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.
Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.
“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”
Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.
“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.
“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”
You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.
“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”
This… was a bit too far, you must admit.
You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.
“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”
A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.
“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”
You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.
“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”
You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.
Hold on…
You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.
Did he just… no, it can’t be.
He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.
But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.
It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.
“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”
“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”
Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.
“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”
You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.
But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.
“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”
The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.
You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.
“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”
His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.
This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.
“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”
A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.
“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”
His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.
The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.
“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”
You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.
“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”
Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.
“This is not your cross to bear.”
He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.
“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”
He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.
Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.
Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.
“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”
All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.
I’ll keep an eye on you.
It’ll keep an eye on you.
You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.
“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”
You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.
“I promise.”
You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.
You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.
You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.
“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.
“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.
“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”
Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.
“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.
And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.
In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.
The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.
There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.
You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.
“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.
“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”
And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.
The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.
And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.
This is what real worship looks like.
When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.
He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.
“Since when were you so reckless?”
His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.
“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.
Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.
You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.
The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.
And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.
You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.
“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.
And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.
Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.
You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.
But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.
You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.
He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.
Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.
But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.
You���re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.
“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.
Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.
And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.
“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”
No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.
“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.
There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.
“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.
His words cause anger to bubble up in you.
“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.
“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”
It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.
“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.
“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.
Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.
“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.
“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”
He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.
“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.
Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.
His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.
His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.
“And what do we say when we apologize?”
The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.
“Forgive me.”
You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.
Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.
His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.
He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.
And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.
“I forgive you.”
Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.
He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.
“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”
“I know. But you love me all the same.”
You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.
Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.
But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.
And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.
“Is your hand alright?”
He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.
He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.
And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.
You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.
“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.
“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.
“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”
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